Christmastime Cowboy

“Which is exactly why I’m not the villain that you seem to think I am,” he said. “Because you didn’t know the score, Sabrina, and I didn’t take advantage of that.”

“Fine. Let’s let it go then, okay? I’m Sabrina Leighton, I work for Grassroots Winery. It has recently changed hands and is under new ownership, and I am helping the new owner realize her vision.”

“Liam Donnelly,” he said, sticking out his hand. She shook it reluctantly, those delicate fingers curling around his, and it shocked him how visceral the response was to that contact with her. “I’ve been living in cities for the past thirteen years. Chicago, mostly New York. I had what was arguably an early midlife crisis and decided to take my inheritance and live in a small town. But, apparently, I can’t just get used to ranching work, so I decided to take on this venture. Something to keep me busy. Idle hands are the devil’s workshop.” He released his hold on her. “Or so I hear.”

She didn’t say anything, but he noticed that when she lowered her hand back to her side she brushed her fingers against her pencil skirt, as if she was trying to wipe the impression of his touch off her. “That’s very interesting. And it seems like we should be able to work well together.”

He looked around the space. “I think we should. So, leaning toward this place?”

“Yes,” she confirmed. “I’ll see if Lindy can come down and have a look. Can I hang on to the keys? So that I can open it up when she has time?”

“I don’t know,” he said. “Gage gave them to me.”

“Come on. Do you honestly think he’ll care?”

He smiled and then held the keys out. “No.”

She took them, quickly, being careful not to make any contact with him this time. “I’ll let you know what she says. I’m guessing she’ll be on board. And once she is we can start making plans. We’re going to need shelving and...”

“Seating. Refrigeration. Yeah, I have a fair idea. How elaborate is the menu going to be?”

“For now? Nibbles only.”

“Nibbles?”

She raised a brow. “Yes. Nibbles.”

“Okay. I suggest we maybe don’t call them that on the menu.”

“We call them that at the winery.”

“What’s wrong with appetizers?”

“Look, Donnelly, you can name your cheese whatever you want to name your cheese. But this is primarily a Grassroots venture. We are going to own most of it. Controlling share and stuff. So, I get to call them nibbles.”

“If you want to die on the hill of nibbles, be my guest.”

“I do, thank you. Surrounded by nice cheese platters.”

“Now, where cheese platters are concerned, I think we are on the same page.”

“Have you ever done this before? I mean, restaurants. Or, things like this.”

“No. Not specifically. But hotels, and there were restaurants in the hotel. So while I didn’t oversee food service specifically, I’ve definitely seen what works and what doesn’t. Though I’m sure that what works in Manhattan won’t necessarily be the gauge for what works in Copper Ridge. And there, you get to be the expert.”

“Because I’m so exceedingly local?”

“Yes.”

“Why does that not feel like a compliment?”

“I don’t know,” he said. “Sounds like your baggage to me.”

She snorted. “All right. I’ll get in touch with you once Lindy gives her opinion.”

She moved past him, and he caught the scent of her. Vanilla. Just like always. And suddenly, he was thrown back to a different time, to warmer days...

He shook his head, ignoring the tightening in his gut.

“Do that.”

The sooner she did that, the sooner they could get started. And the sooner they got started, the sooner they could be done.

CHAPTER FOUR (#ubbe947aa-eeb1-52ef-9e56-32bab7e8d982)

MUCH TO SABRINA’S CHAGRIN, Lindy was ecstatic when they arrived at the shop later that afternoon. It was perfect as far as she was concerned, everything about it. She had absolutely no qualms and was ready to get the ball rolling immediately.

It was funny, because Lindy seemed to be fueled by her enthusiasm to make the winery a complete and total success and throw in Damien’s face the fact that she didn’t need him at all, and that in fact, she could do more without him around.

Sabrina, on the other hand, was fueled by something altogether different and that was her desire to work with Liam and emerge unscathed. She felt like she was continually reevaluating that situation. At first, she had wanted to avoid him, but if avoidance was the primary goal then it was difficult to make the case that she was all right. Difficult to make the case that she had moved on in any regard.

Not that she had ever pretended she had. Not to herself. And to other people? She just didn’t talk about it.

Maybe moved on was the wrong phrase. It was just... She didn’t trust herself. Her father had always told her to be cautious. To lead with her head, and not with her heart.

Back when he’d talked to her.

He had said that passion was faulty, and feelings were lies. And she had worked so hard to comply with that. To be quiet so that she could spend time with her dad, since he couldn’t handle endless chattering. To be the one who took after him. Not like Damien, who was always volatile like their mother.

She had rebelled once.

The first time she’d set eyes on Liam Donnelly—when he’d come to work at the winery—she’d been sure her chest would crack open and her heart would spill right out in front of him. Like every feeling, every need, every desire she’d shoved down all of her life had risen up to the surface and begged for release.

And then he’d looked at her. She had been certain, utterly certain, that he was the first person to truly see her.

She had known it was wrong. But he made her feel right, and after so many years of feeling like an alien in her own body, vying for her father’s attention the only way she knew how, it was magical to her.

Until the end. The end when everything had fallen apart, and then she’d set about to make everything around her as wrecked as she’d felt inside.

But it was over. She wasn’t that girl anymore. She really never had been. She’d had a moment of insanity, and that was done and never happening again.

Sabrina was going to handle being around him now. She was not going to give her sister-in-law any extra grief. Lindy had had enough. She didn’t need to deal with Sabrina’s baggage on top of everything else. Especially since Sabrina’s baggage was...well, stupid in a lot of ways, she supposed. Nothing was worse than having Liam confront her with what had happened between them. With him making her voice everything.

Because it made what had happened between them feel small. And in her mind it was so large. But she was reluctant to admit that he had a point. It wasn’t like the situation would have been any better if he had slept with her and then disappeared.

But that was the worst part, actually. It was the part that was so hard to explain to people, including him. Maybe especially him, because if she did it would make her sound even more like she was a pet-boiling whack job.

The lingering tenderness made sense to her though. And it hurt all the way down. She had trusted him with all of herself, and more than that, she had trusted in her own feelings for him. They had been wrong.