Page 79 of A Vintage of Regret
“Oh, yes, you are,” Kelly said sternly, but softly.
Bryson glanced over the rim of his mug.
Grant set his soda on the table and leaned forward, forearms on the table. “Young lady, your mother and I will not tolerate that tone. Not at home, and especially not when you’re a guest at someone else’s.”
Jessica’s chin lifted. “Then maybe you should tell me the truth about what’s going on.” She cocked her head.
The words landed like a dropped plate—sharp enough to cut through every other sound.
The room suddenly stilled, and all eyes were on Jessica.
“This is not the time or place.” Grant kept his voice even.
Jessica’s frown deepened. “It never is.” She pushed her chair back and raced out of the room.
Kelly exhaled, hard. “Excuse me, please.” She darted off after her daughter.
Bryson gripped his mug, staring into the dark liquid.
“Sorry about my daughter’s outburst.” Grant leaned back, ran a hand across his eyes, and then down his face. “Not only is she atthatage. But she shouldn’t have to deal with adult problems.”
“No need to apologize,” Walter said, leaning forward. “I’ve dealt with a few angsty teenagers myself.”
“She’s incredibly intelligent. A little bullish, like me, but she’s really a good kid.” Grant let out a long breath. “But lately, she’s testing our patience. Sometimes I wonder if we’re losing control.”
“I, for one, think she’s a lovely child,” Bryson’s mother said. “Reminds me of myself at that age.”
“You’re a good father.” Riley smiled. “The way you handled her reminded me of the way Dad used to deal with me.”
Grant blew out a puff of air. “You and Dad always did have a special bond.”
Bryson pushed his coffee aside, staring at Riley, studying her expression, waiting for the tears to appear. But they didn’t. Progress.
“Grant and I were always so jealous,” Erin said.
“You know,” Riley started. “I used to feel like the two of you had your own private little club. Like there was some super-secret handshake to get in, and I was never going to be able to crack it.”
“We’re all together now, and I’m sure Dad is looking down on us all, smiling. It’s what he wanted. That’s all that matters.” Grant smiled.
Bryson had had his siblings. Their support had always been a given. They’d engaged in brutal verbal combat sometimes, but when it mattered, they had each other's back. To see Riley and her siblings at the same table, after a decade, left Bryson's soul scraped raw.
Devon’s phone buzzed against the table. He glanced at the screen, and his expression shone with constellation brightness. He lifted his gaze, catching Bryson’s, then flipped the cell face down.
“Emery Tate? Again?” Bryson asked, jaw tightening.
“If it was, you should be glad I didn’t take her call.” Devon's face broke into his familiar smartass grin.
“Right. Because the second I’m out of earshot, you’re gonna tap that screen and return the call. Do you really think I’m that stupid? I know you’re talking to her. The rumor mills are buzzing—saying Stone Bridge Winery plans on hiring a walking scandal.” Bryson pushed his chair back and abruptly stood. God, this got under his skin. It wasn’t so much that Emery was interested in working at Stone Bridge Winery. Or even the scandal, though that did make Bryson pause. However, Bryson knew when his brother got into hisfeelings,logic went out the window.It didn’t happen often. Maybe twice in the last ten years. But when Devon fell, it was always for the wrong girl.
“You’re being dramatic.” Devon narrowed his eyes.
“And you’re sleeping with her,” Bryson said under his breath.
His mother rose, and she walked by, she gave Bryson a little love tap on the back of his head. “Enough of that. It’s rude and not appropriate in front of our guests.”
“Ouch.” Bryson glared. “I’m only saying what we’re all thinking.”
“It would be unprofessional of me to sleep with a potential hire.” Devon grinned.
