Page 5 of Bordeaux Bombshell
I’ve been bleeding out from a thousand tiny cuts ever since I got back.
But now they’re finally getting married, and he asked me to be his best man. After all the work I’ve done to heal the rift I made, there was no way in hell I was going to do anything other than be the best, most supportive best man who has ever existed.
And that means getting Sydney to agree to a truce long enough to get through the wedding festivities. Getting her to forgive me is asking for too much, but a truce? Surely, we’re both adult enough to be civil for a few months.
Like the Bat-Signal, the flash of my headlights draws my dad outside to investigate. “Hey, son.” He waves from his porch. “You had dinner yet? Your mom made tacos.”
I shrug and turn toward their cabin. “If you’re offering me Mom’s tacos over the cold sandwich waiting for me inside, I’ll take it.”
“Jackie,” Dad calls, loud enough to startle me. “Nate’s joining us.”
My mom leans past the kitchen counter to smile at me. “Always happy to feed my boy. Where were you?”
Her smile is finally free of the unspoken hurt that haunted it for the first few months I was back. We were out clearing a field one day when Kel admitted how sad she’d been while I was gone, and I’ve been doing my best to make up for being the prodigal son ever since. Guilt for hurting them battles with the anger that still burns in my gut, and I never know which feeling is going to win.
At least every time they offer to feed me, I don’t turn them down anymore. Progress.
“Just out,” I grunt and pull up a chair at the table. The same thing I tell them every time.
Dad knocks the back of my head—not hard enough to hurt, but it’s no gentle tap. He and I are still working out the damage between us. I haven’t forgiven him for selling out my legacy without even asking, and he hasn’t forgiven me for breaking my mom’s heart. “Go help your mother bring food out.”
Instead of sitting, I push the chair in and shuffle to the kitchen. “Hi, Mom.” I lean down to kiss her cheek, and she pushes me toward the sink.
“Wash your hands, then help me carry food out.”
Biting back a remark about being an adult and not a toddler, I comply. The sizzle of meat joins the sound of the running water, and my stomach grumbles.
“How come you guys are eating so late?” I didn’t leave Sydney’s until close to seven, and it’s a good forty-minute drive back to the vineyard.
“Rebecca and Thomas stopped by to talk about the wedding.” Mom hands me a platter overflowing with lettuce, tomatoes, cheese, and chopped onions.
“You know how your mom and Rebecca are. Once they get started, there’s no stopping them.” Dad is already sitting at the table, napkin tucked into his shirt.
“Oh, stop.” Mom sets her plate down before swatting him. “We’re just excited. Can you blame us? Mother of the groom…” She sighs dreamily before giving me a sideways glance.
I roll my eyes. “What am I, chopped liver?” From the way she’s acting, you’d think Kel was her son instead of me.
Dad elbows me as he reaches for the food. When I look his way, he’s busy concentrating on spooning ground beef into a taco shell, ignoring me.
“I’m just saying, she’s lucky to finally get a chance at it.” Mom pouts a little while scooping sour cream onto her taco. “It’s not like you’re doing anything to change that.”
I push back from the table, the empty taco shell on my plate forgotten. “Not hungry anymore.”
“Nate—”
“I didn’t mean—”
My parents bite off their words when I raise an eyebrow at them, one arm through my coat sleeve already. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Dad.”
I don’t bother with my hood as I stomp back to my cabin, letting the cold rain run down the back of my neck to cool my temper. Just when I think I’ve made progress, my mom goes and throws my hermitude in my face.
I had friends in France.
Companionship when I needed it.
A life.
A life I gave up because they needed me. Kel needed me. Ridge Runner—no—Sunshineneeded me.
