St. Helena Vineyard Series: Love Me Tender, Love You Hard (Kindle Worlds Novella) (Cookin' With SEALs Book 1) Read online

  The other fellow crossed his well developed guns and politely waited, which was smart.

  “I’m sorry,” Derek said to the man. “I’ve forgotten your name. Stupid of me.”

  “Dax. I’m Dax Baudouin. Knudsen and I were old friends back in Coronado. We trained together for a mission I’m happy to say was executed flawlessly.”

  “Got that right,” Knudsen said as he slapped Baudouin’s back. “Come on over and let me introduce you to Emi, Dax’s fiancée. She’s a chef. Owns a fleet of food carts.”

  Derek’s brain wasn’t functioning well. Did Knudsen just say something about food? It was a foreign thought.

  “Knudsen, I need a beer right now. After that, I’ll see where I’m at.”

  “I’ve got it,” Dax said as he left in search of a waiter.

  Derek pulled his Team buddy aside, and in a whisper asked, “Seriously, Knudsen, you couldn’t have told me about all this?”

  “Would you have come?”

  “No.”

  “Well then, it’s confirmed. I did the right thing.”

  Derek was trying to sneak looks at Remy without being obvious.

  “Come on over. They’re nice people here. Remy looks good. Even you have to admit that.”

  He’d been less afraid in the middle of a firefight. What was this, that the sight of her made his stomach lurch, parched his throat. A couple of deep breaths and he was able to solve the racing heart problem. He just didn’t know what to say to her after all this time.

  Like she usually did, she took the edge off, and in that sweet manner she had, left him starving for more.

  “Hey Derek. What a coincidence, right?” Her smile was cool, but he could see by the way her eyes fluttered that she was nervous too. That gave him courage.

  “Remy, I didn’t even know you were here,” he lied.

  “Yes, you did. I told you so last night, remember?” Knudsen barked unhelpfully.

  Derek gave the death stare Knudsen deserved. His jaw clenched but he managed to spit out, “I mean to say I didn’t expect to see you here tonight. Now that I can see this is a mistake, I’ll just take my leave if you don’t mind.”

  He didn’t look at her as he turned and began to leave the restaurant, nearly crashing into Dax.

  “Whoa! You done already?” Dax handed him a long necked brew. “I didn’t get a chance to introduce you to—”

  “This is all real nice, Dax,” he said, accepting the beer and guzzling half of it down. It helped. Oh man, it helped. “Knudsen, as I’m sure you know if you guys did a tour together, is such an asshole of a practical joker, he didn’t prepare me for this little reunion. No offense, but I can’t be here right now.”

  Dax casually shrugged and angled his head, nearly winking out of one squinted eye. “I get you. You got a place to stay yet?”

  Knudsen joined the party after discussing something in private with the two ladies.

  “I’m good. Lots of places I saw back there.”

  “Yeah, that will cost you three hundred a night. No imposition if you stay with us. We got a guest house we put Knudsen up in. There’s another bed, if you’re willing.” He turned to Knudsen who nodded.

  “Sure.”

  “And it’s nowhere near where Remy lives,” Knudsen inserted, his voice barely audible. It echoed Derek’s concern perfectly.

  Derek rubbed the back of his neck, feeling trapped, but thankful there was a face-saving exit possible.

  “Sounds like a plan.”

  “Sure I can’t convince you to stick around and at least have something to eat with us?” asked Dax.

  “Nah, man. I’ve been munching on junk food the whole way. Not sure where I’d put it. I think a good night’s rest is in the cards for me, if you don’t mind.” He was starving, but that could be easily solved. Biggest problem was getting away from Remy. Not being prepared for their meeting had him off his game. This wasn’t part of his training.

  Dax and Knudsen turned to look at the two ladies seated away from earshot, and then brought their attention back to Derek. He knew what they were thinking. Why would anybody want to pass up the opportunity to rekindle a friendship with the beautiful Remington Bolt?

  Knudsen’s face sported the evidence of a bright, but very dumb idea before he could get it out. Derek held his breath and listened.

  “Ten minutes. Just until the pizza arrives, Derek. Ten minutes,” he held up both palms to illustrate the point. “That’s all, then I’ll take you there and you can crash.”

  He started to shake his head, but his ego was ramping up. No way was he afraid of her, and that’s the way he was looking to these heroes. This wasn’t the kind of metal Derek was made out of. Besides, he expressly came up North to prove to himself and to everyone else, namely Remy, he was over her. It was all in the past, and he’d moved on. Cutting and running made him look like he couldn’t handle it.

  That was not acceptable.

  Knudsen’s horse teeth and part of his gumline formed a freakish grin. The twinkle in his buddy’s eye dared him to the challenge.

  “Knudsen, there better not be any more surprises.”

  “Scout’s honor.”

  He lumbered behind the other two men and pulled up a mismatched chair, sitting at the end of the table so he could stretch his leg out. It also served to give some relief to the boner that had begun to return. His errant body part was not cooperating with his brain. The sight of Remy all in red, the smell of her, the color of her cherry-red lips, was a punishment too cruel to bear, but he was bound and determined he’d show her that he could.

  “Derek, this is my lovely fiancée, Emi Blake,” Dax said, as he bent down to kiss the top of her head before he took the opposite end of the table, perpendicular to Emi’s seated form.

  Her warm eyes greeted him with kindness, and he found he instantly trusted her. “Welcome to St. Helena, Derek. Is this your first time?”

  He glanced at Remy before he could stop himself. He saw her slight blush, the way her soft lashes turned down as her head bowed. No, it certainly hadn’t been his first time. Even he had to admit that the lost weekend of play only made him crave her more afterwards. And he remembered every kiss, every touch. The way the feather bed in the big old bedroom felt beneath him as he held her shattering body. He could remember the smell of their sheets, the way her breath felt as she whispering things in his ear, telling him things he had no right thinking about right now. No, it wasn’t his first time being here. It was the first time he’d felt completely drunk in love.

  Accepting the honest truth of it, he inhaled and answered Emi, “I’ve been here once before.” He wanted to say something like, “But I hardly remember it,” but that would have been a lie as large as the pizza they’d just delivered. So he told them the truth. “Remy and I were here one weekend.” He chanced crossing the divide that loomed between them. “You remember?”

  It was a dumb question, but it put her on the defense. Those clear and incredibly honest brown eyes took him in, surveyed what was going on inside his chest and elsewhere, as she answered, “Yes, Derek. I remember.”

  For a split second, they were the only two people in the restaurant. But the God of Miracles abandoned him, and just as quickly as it appeared, the evidence of what he’d meant to her at one time was gone.

  THE SMALL TALK went on for several minutes. He found he could avoid looking at Remy, though she was the most expressive he’d seen her. There was always a bottle of beer or the cheesy tip of a pizza to focus on when she talked. And that seemed to work.

  The “just ten minutes” turned into an hour, and Derek began to relax. Maybe this could work after all. Maybe there was life without her, even admitting he missed her.

  “I’m going to the head,” he announced to the little conclave.

  When returning back to the hallway that led to the restaurant, he nearly bumped into Remy. He was careful to make sure he didn’t hesitate, to continue with his forward momentum, showing he wasn’t phased by her c
lose proximity. But the hallway was narrow, and as they turned sideways to avoid brushing past a thigh or hip, they were face to face, her warm body in front of him lighting up his insides like she was a candle. The sweet scent she always wore started the buzzing in his ears, and made his nose itch.

  They smiled at each other like they were sashaying along the dance floor, partnered with other dancers. But Derek felt his smile was nervous, and unless he was totally off his rocker, hers looked strained too.

  He had made a near clean getaway when she had to go and spoil it.

  “Derek, I never got a chance to explain.”

  She was at his back, so he turned. “Now I would have thought you could have said that sixty days ago, Remy. What’s changed?”

  “I’ve been thinking.”

  He didn’t want to hear it, but he was that old moth again, and Remy was definitely the flame. “Knudsen lets me know all the time that could be hazardous to your health. I thought if you had something to say, you would have said it.”

  “Don’t you want to know?”

  He became Clark Gable. He even angled his head and traced his upper lip with his index finger, like searching for remnants of a thin Hollywood moustache. “Frankly, Scarlet—”

  “Stop it, Derek. I’m serious.” Traces of anger flared in her eyes. That got him going too.

  “I’m as serious as a heart attack, Remy. Back then, yes, I wanted to know. But I’m all over that now. Now, I just don’t care.”

  He saw the lie drill a hole through her heart. Her eyes watered as she nodded acceptance. He’d done it again. He’d hurt her. Couldn’t even spend one free hour with her without hurting her again. He even knew she deserved it, but that made no difference.

  “Look, Remy. I’m sure you had your reasons. I tried calling you. You could have returned those calls. Then when I found out you ran off with Ray, well, that kind of told me everything there was to tell.”

  “I didn’t run off with Ray.”

  “Yes, you did, honey. I got it on good authority.”

  “Ray helped me.”

  “I’ll just bet he did.”

  “I went to ask him about you.”

  “I get it. Wasn’t his fault at all. You parade your little ass in front of a guy about to go overseas and perhaps wind up coming home in a box with a flag, and what the hell? Like I said, it wasn’t his fault. It was his time. Not mine.”

  “I didn’t sleep with Ray.”

  “You’re trying to convince me he helped you, and you didn’t feel all grateful or something and spread your legs for him.”

  “That’s insulting.”

  “But true, Remy. You see, it’s one thing when a girl leaves a man. But when she takes off with his ex-best friend, now that’s another thing.”

  “You don’t know how many times I started to write that letter.”

  “What letter?”

  “The letter I tore up every time I sat down to write it.”

  “Well, you’re right, I got Jack. I got dead air. I got cheery bubbly bullshit phone messages telling me to vomit some sickly sweet poetry. I did that at first, remember? And then you didn’t even have the decency to call me back.”

  “I’m sorry about that.”

  “Tell it to someone who believes you.” Derek was getting fired up. This was way easier than he thought. He tapped into the thoughts he’d had over and over again, before the softening of time. He was wounded. He was trying to recover. He was lost, and Remy left him. Period. End of story.

  “I couldn’t help you, Derek. It was driving me nuts. Okay, so I didn’t do it the right way, but you scared me, Derek. I can’t explain it, but you were crazy with the pain, crazy with that look in your eye. The pills you had to take. You know this. You were trying to heal and everything I did was making it worse. So I left.”

  He was looking at her red boots, saw his hands on them as he’d peeled them off her several times. Her pants were tight, her hips curvier, her shirt moved as she inhaled and exhaled and as she talked. The little red bow on top of her head flopped like red ears on a rabbit. She was a piece of work. And she was right.

  He’d been a mess.

  Derek was searching for something to say that made sense, but she crossed the space again and sucked all the air out of the room.

  “I know you’re angry with me. I deserve it. But I just want you to know, I didn’t sleep with Ray. I haven’t slept with anyone since I left San Diego.”

  He held up his hand to stop her, but she forged through anyway.

  “I don’t want to know if you have. Save me from that, because I know we’re done.” She gulped in a deep breath to continue her speech, like it had been a rehearsed line. “And I think I made the right decision, because look at you. You’re healed.”

  “I limp.”

  She almost smiled at that one. He knew it was ridiculous too. “But I can tell, you’re better. You’re walking better. Your color’s back and you don’t have that wild look in your eyes. You’re healthier. I’m glad.”

  Was she really glad, he wondered as he watched her turn and enter the women’s restroom? Did it matter?

  In some strange way it did.

  CHAPTER 4

  REMY’S GRANDFATHER CAME to visit the next day. She was grateful for the distraction at first.

  Harrison Bolt was a bent, dried-fruit version of his former self. He’d maintained a slim physique and had been active in sports most his life, but he loved racing cars. Although not a professional racer, he’d attempted to imitate some moves he’d seen up close in the pits with some of his own in the Central Valley open roads and had nearly been killed in a single-car accident ten years ago.

  Though the bones had healed, arthritis had set in, and now nearing eighty, he had to walk with a cane. The head of the cane was shaped with the black gearshift lever from his favorite sponsored car: a Shelby GT. After the death of his third wife, and the unsuccessful marriage with his much younger fourth wife, he lived with Remy’s parents in their sprawling ranch home overlooking their raisin farm near Clovis, California.

  Remy could see he was in one of his moods. He was legendary for winning an argument and then pissing off the other person so much he’d lose the battle anyway.

  “Remy, I’m here to talk sense into you. Your mother’s worrying herself to death. You have no money, no job. You should be in school.”

  “I am in school, Grandpa.” Remy registered they didn’t know about the tuition down payment she’d withdrawn from the trust set up by her grandmother for school. She didn’t need anyone’s permission to use the money, now well over a hundred thousand dollars, but her mother would be hurt she hadn’t consulted them first.

  “Cooking school. You could do that at the J.C., where you could also take some business courses. You could live at home.”

  Like that was a real option, after living with Derek? Could she ever live at home? She sucked in air and fought back. “It’s a great school. World famous. And yes, we have business courses, too.”

  “Look, we didn’t try to stop you when you moved in with that SEAL fellow.”

  “Well, I am twenty-three years old.”

  “But you’re a baby.”

  “No, I’m not.”

  “Did he hurt you? Because if he did, I’m going to knock the crap out of him.”

  “Grandpa, you stay away from him.”

  “So he is dangerous then! Those SEALs are wired up so tight you never know when they’ll spring. You had no business taking on that kind of risk.”

  “You’re wrong about Derek.”

  “But you’re all alone up here.”

  “Up here? St. Helena isn’t exactly a ghetto. They have upscale restaurants and a police department with not enough to do. The biggest crime in this town is teenage shoplifting and being drunk in public. The trap picking up all the DUIs is funding the new police cruisers and new jail, Grandpa.”

  “But all you need is one bad apple. You’re all alone. You don’t know anyone.”


  She loved that he wanted to be protective of her. But she also knew he didn’t expect she’d agree with him. “I can still shoot better than you can. I carry a gun all the time. I know how to handle myself, and I’m learning to live on my own, finding my own way without some guy with knuckles that drag on the sidewalk to protect me.”

  “Remy, come home. Let me bring you home.” His pale blue eyes were piercingly honest. It was hard for her to resist him, but she knew she had to.

  “Then you’ve come up here for nothing, Grandpa. I’m staying in St. Helena to complete my courses. It’s just two years, and I’ll have an Associates degree. I can work in any decent restaurant, maybe even travel and work in Europe. I have big plans.”

  She knew her grandfather had friends in St. Helena he visited, not to mention one or two eligible biddies who liked to organize themed parties for their senior homes. He was the handsome Sir Galahad, riding in on a white mustang the same color as his white hair, driving too fast and making everyone’s heart go pitter-pat at the care facility. Though she hadn’t been in town long, she’d already received the invites for cookies and tea so the ladies could pump her full of information about her Silver fox of a grandpa.

  In St. Helena, he got the kind of attention he couldn’t get anywhere else without considerable amount of time invested. And time was in short supply for her grandfather. He knew the time was approaching when he’d be relocated to a similar facility. Her mother told her that while he was sampling the merchandise, he was really looking for an alternative to living at home with the rest of the Bolts. He would love to be nestled in a small town where the weather was nice, the traffic was low, the wine flowed and the town was chock full of old widows bent on having one last romance before they made the trek to the “white halls” of Silver Acres. That place was where you never made it back from. Someone started a rumor it was really a zombie academy to rival the culinary school.

  So the trip was as much about him as it was about her. But she was flattered he cared.

  “Grandpa, we’ll have to disagree, I’m afraid. As you can see, I’m doing fine.” She laced her arm in the crook of his and helped him outside the ice cream shop, where they’d shared dessert.