Page 74 of A Baby for the Texas Cowboy
You have to stop.
She couldn’t make a future if her brain kept dragging out the past.
And she wanted to tell Anders about some of her past. Not all of it. But he had a right to know that her parents were still alive, although she was estranged from them. And he had a right to know that her ex-fiancé had betrayed her, lied to her and scared her when he’d grabbed her by her neck when she’d tried to run away after telling him they were over.
Maybe by telling Anders, she’d feel closure. And then the whole not dead parent thing, she reminded herself. She hadn’t lied. Anders had assumed, but a lie by omission was sort of a lie, wasn’t it?
If she didn’t tell him now, she’d lose her courage. If she really were going to try to have a life with him in it, even if they were just co-parenting their child, she had to close the door on her past.
“Do you have to leave right away?” she asked, feeling as if the words choked her. Her timing sucked, but it seemed like Anders still had one foot out the door. So many demands on his time.
His phone buzzed again.
“I guess that’s my answer.” She tried to smile.
Anders scowled, grabbed it up and stuffed it in his back pocket. “You okay?” he asked. The warmth in his eyes and smile, both dimples showing, soothed her. Let the past stay dead.
“Yeah,” she said. “I’m good. See you tonight.”
*
The day racedby. Tinsley and Isla were fairly astonished by the couples and groups that arrived for the tasting, and the bruschetta and tapenades, cheese plates, nuts and charcuterie plates were cleared out far before closing. She’d hired Hunter’s brother, Tarek Youngblood and immediately handed him the Verflucht credit card, the keys to her truck—beautifully stenciled—and a shopping list including a panini maker, even though he’d had no idea what that was, which had made her and Isla laugh.
Later she’d sent Isla home and was cleaning up and thinking about what to wear for dinner when Anders entered, kissed her and then ran up the stairs. He came down taking the stairs two at a time holding his duffel bag. For a fairly tall and hard-muscled man, it always astonished her that he moved so quietly.
“Oh!” She stared at his bag and then at him. “You’re leaving?” She tried to keep the dismay and the disappointment out of her voice.
“I’m sorry, baby. I wanted to take you to dinner, but August is flying out tonight, and he’s going to drop me in Sacramento before he heads to San Francisco for a ‘consultation.’” Anders made air quotes around the last word. “I’m sorry to miss our date.”
“It wasn’t officially a date.” She tried to keep her voice light and expression neutral.
“It was a date, and I’ll make it up to you,” he said, tangling his fingers with hers and walking backward to the empty back patio so they could have some privacy.
“I’m sorry,” he said softly pulling her into his arms. “We never have enough time.”
She’d been thinking the same thing.
“Not like I don’t know the routine,” she said philosophically.
“Still…” His hands moved up and down her arms in relaxing strokes. “We are so new and finally doing well, I hate to leave, but in two more weeks we’ll have over a month, and then the finals and then two months off.”
He kissed her until she practically forgot her name. When he finally let her up for air, she clung to him. “I’d ask you to come, but I know you’re just getting the tasting room and the staff up and running. Maybe someday you can take a weekend off and travel with me.”
She knew a few wives and girlfriends traveled with the bull riders at least for a few of the competitions. She’d vowed to never be like that again—following her man. But he looked so hopeful, she didn’t want to shut him down.
She’d been gearing up to tell him about her family, her past and her ex, but now all the words strangled in her throat. They didn’t have time to talk. Time was too short and her past seemed far away. She stepped up on tiptoes to claim one last kiss.
“Keep safe,” she murmured against his firm lips. “Ride to the bell and come home without too many bruises because I have plans for your body that are going to require agility and stamina.”
“Can’t wait.”
Chapter Eighteen
Two months later,Tinsley closed the window on the software accounting program and then closed the lid on the laptop. A sense of accomplishment surged through her. In a little more than a month, Verflucht had surpassed their growth expectation by more than triple their lofty expectations in sales, visitors and more importantly wine club members.
They had done so well that they had held an October harvest party. It had been in conjunction with Last Stand’s fall festival, but they’d held their wine and food-pairing event at the tasting room and back patio. They had had live music—Isla’s band Armadillo Attitude performed two sets and drew a recent college graduate crowd that had practically camped on the back patio and had taken advantage of the seating, games area and enjoyed food from the diversity of the food trucks that had catered the event. Although young, they’d spent freely, and many had asked about upcoming social events.
The Verflucht harvest release event had been so successful that she and Catalina had already decided that they’d host it again but also up their game and hold the event at the winery with carriage rides through part of the vineyard and a wine-blending workshop—the fee would be high, but the reward would include half a case or a case of the blended wine. The evening festivities would be held at the tasting room and back patio.
