was the one who helped superglue his broken heart back together—first as his friend, and then as something more. He’s been doing the same for her after she found out the truth about her husbands.
Somehow, the news of their deaths hasn’t scared him away.
And for that, I’m thankful.
He kisses her temple, and I swear my face will split in two if my grin gets any wider. They’re freaking adorable together.
“You ready for your surprise now?” Landon asks me.
I nod. The four of us climb into Adam’s SUV, which Landon borrowed because there isn’t enough room for all of us in his jeep.
“You’re not going to give us a hint where you’re taking us?” Mom asks. “Not even a tiny one?”
Nigel laughs. “You remind me of my three-year-old granddaughter.”
That has Mom pouting, but the gleam in her eyes says the opposite.
“Did Landon tell you where we’re headed?” she asks him.
“He might have hinted, but I swore an oath that I wouldn’t tell either of you.”
Landon pulls out of the cemetery parking lot.
“Does the surprise have anything to do with Liam reinstating your status?” I ask. Until Landon finally received his medical clearance two days ago, he hadn’t been allowed to join his team on missions. And for the past two months, he’d been stuck behind his desk.
He was about as thrilled at that as a guppy coming face-to-face with Jaws.
Landon flashes me a cocky grin. “Nope.”
“You’re really not planning to tell me, are you?”
“Not until we get there.”
The only thing he has told me is that we’re going to Wine Country. And to pack for the weekend.
It’s late morning by the time we pull into the driveway leading to Enchanted Springs Winery. Ahead of us are two buildings, Mediterranean in design. A fountain sits in front of the smaller one. The other building is long, like a barn.
“Wow, it’s gorgeous,” I say.
“Glad you like it.”
Landon’s mysterious grin only piques my curiosity more.
“Are we here for a wine tasting?” I ask as the four of us walk toward the building, Landon holding my hand.
We drove past a few wineries on the way, but he didn’t so much as slow down at any of them. In fact, it’s like he’s been here before. He knew exactly where he was going without turning on the GPS.
“Not in the typical sense,” he says.
Mom and I share a confused glance.
We approach the smaller building, and Landon opens the door for us to enter. The tingle of a small bell above the door announces us.
The only other person inside the store is a woman in her forties, examining a bottle of wine. She looks in our direction and a warm smile grows on her face. “Landon, it’s nice to see you again.”
My curiosity cranks up tenfold. Landon never mentioned he knew anyone here.
She shakes his hand. “And you must be Chloe Reinhart.”
I nod. “That’s right.”
“I’m Regina Helm. It’s nice to finally get to meet the owner of the winery.” She spreads her arms wide, gesturing to the building and the vineyards beyond the walls.
But she’s not looking at Landon when she says it. She’s talking directly to me.
Huh?
“What do you mean?”
“Your grandfather bought the property several years ago and put it under your name,” Landon explains.
“He did?” That’s an odd thing to do after you boot your granddaughter from the family. “How come he never mentioned it to me?” An unwelcome thought hits me like a stick of salami to the head. I groan. “God, I’m going to be nailed with back taxes, aren’t I? It’s not like I declared this place to the IRS.”
Was this the old man’s final act of vengeance because I wanted nothing to do with the family business?
Nice.
“You don’t have to worry about that. Your accountant was making sure the IRS was kept happy so no one inadvertently stumbled across your grandfather’s connection to the place. He wasn’t listed on the papers.”
Well, that would explain a few things.
“So, this is mine?” My voice comes out sounding like a chipmunk who’s been stepped on.
He nods.
“But I don’t know anything about running a vineyard.”
“Neither did your grandfather,” Regina says. “That’s why he hired my husband and me to manage the vineyard and the winery. And…well…we’re hoping you’ll still keep us on now that you’re officially the owner.” Her expression reminds me of when Whiskey’s eager for a treat—a treat he loves with all his doggy being.
In the short time Landon and I have known each other, he has gained the ability to guess what