Page 28 of A Vineyard for Two

‘You know how Georgia is. If anyone is going to keep a secret, it’s her.’

‘Coffee?’ Brookes asked.

‘I think you’ve got company.’

Brookes looked up and saw a car pulling up. Once parked, Harper got out.

Leo patted Brookes on the shoulder. ‘Good luck, mate.’

‘Thanks.’

A part of him was glad to see her. He hated they left things off uncomfortably last night. Sure, the flat tyre hadn’t helped, but maybe he could have tried a different approach.

He watched as Leo greeted his sister, then disappeared to his own car before driving off.

Harper approached, hands in the pockets of her jeans, a white-collared shirt loosely tucked in, and the top button undone showing off a gold cross and star on a thin chain. Her hair blew in the wind and he wanted to reach out and push it away from her eyes so he could see her entire face. Instead, he stayed put.

‘We need to talk,’ Harper said.

‘Coffee?’ Although from the sound of her tone the conversation might warrant something stronger.

‘Sounds good.’

Brookes locked the car and led the way back to the house. Rover ran over, wagging his tail, when he saw they had company. He watched as Harper knelt and patted the dog. He looked comfortable with her and pleased with the attention.

‘Come in through there. I just have to wash up.’ Brookes pointed towards the kitchen.

‘I know where it is.’

He nodded. Of course, she did. This wasn’t the first time she’d been here. She was familiar with the entire house. It was going to be their house, or so he’d thought, and then she’d left. God, he had to stop thinking about that. Every time the thought appeared, his anger grew in equal measure. If they were going to have a conversation, he had to reign in his emotions, no matter how difficult that was going to be. He knew for certain that he didn’t want to sell Hugh’s inheritance, he’d buy her out if he had to, but he wasn’t going to sell it and it didn’t matter what she said to him, there was no convincing him otherwise.

When he came back into the kitchen, she was staring out the kitchen window.

‘Still have your coffee black?’

‘You remembered.’

‘It’s not a hard one to forget,’ he said as he fired up the coffee machine.

‘Any idea what happened last night?’

‘It was definitely deliberate. I’ll stop by the tavern later to see if they have any security footage. I doubt it, but I’d like to know the idiot who thought it was a good idea.’

‘Crossed anyone lately?’

‘Not that I’m aware of.’

The coffee machine covered up the few moments of silence. When he poured the cup, she finally sat down, but it didn’t give him any more comfort. The nervous feeling remained. He took his time making his coffee as they made mindless small talk about the weather, the town, and Rover. It was easy, but it was avoiding what she had really come here to discuss.

He sat down opposite her. ‘It has been good to see you, Harper. I mean it.’

She smiled. God, he always loved her smile. When it was real, her eyes lit up, and the dimples showed. He remembered how she had always shied away from it, putting her head down or letting her hair hang loose around her face. Not anymore. There was a certain confidence about her. Not that she had ever been meek, but there was a strength about her that hadn’t been there before, but at the same time there was something else, a barrier that she was holding up and he wanted to know why.

‘I like what you’ve done to the place.’

He watched as her gaze shifted across the room. Six years ago, the house had been a work in progress. A rundown country cottage that he had hoped to make a home. When Harper had left, he had thought about selling it, but Leo had talked him out of it. Luckily, he listened, and instead put the work in, taking his time renovating each room by hand. He’d started with the bathrooms, the bedrooms, and the kitchen. It had been a labour of love but also a therapeutic exercise. When Harper had left, he’d felt so much anger and frustration and sadness that if he hadn’t had something to focus on, he might have spiralled out of control. The renovations kept him grounded, and as the house progressed, so did the control of his emotions. While he never really got over Harper, and maybe never would, the work had given him some purpose to each day. Having Rover around helped too. With time, the house became a home.

‘It’s a work in progress,’ Brookes said. ‘There’s always something to do. A house is never finished.’ He wasn’t sure it ever would be.