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Feels Like Home
Feels Like Home
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Feels Like Home

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As usual, Aidan had arrived at the break of day for a run around the vineyard before returning to shower and dress in the bathroom adjoining his office upstairs. All before she’d even had her cup of coffee.

Her eldest loved nothing more than his routine, his schedules and his family.

It was up to her to help him see there was more to life than the first two. That he didn’t have to sacrifice so much for the third.

“I’m afraid I can’t answer that, as I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Although she could guess.

Diane sighed. This conversation was not going to be easy.

She tightened the sash of the new knee-length, velour robe she wore over her pajamas. Then again, no one ever said doing the right thing was easy.

“Coffee?” she asked.

Not waiting for an answer, she poured him a cup.

He accepted it without taking his eyes off her. “I’m talking about you hiring my ex-wife to work at the Diamond Dust.”

He watched her steadily, his eyes a cross between her own blue ones and the green of his father’s. But under his careful detachment, she sensed his agitation. His anger.

Her sons. Though they tried, they couldn’t hide anything from their mother.

“I was going to tell you,” she said, adding cream to her coffee before crossing to the large, granite-topped island to sit on one of the high-backed stools, “when I deemed the time right.”

His jaw worked—throwing away all the money she’d invested in his orthodontic care as a teen by grinding his teeth to dust. “I’d say the right time is now. Seeing as how I discovered Yvonne picking through Dad’s stuff at the carriage house while I was on my run.”

“Oh?” Diane sipped her coffee to hide her surprise. “I wasn’t expecting her until this afternoon.”

She’d last spoken to her the night before, when Yvonne had called to let Diane know she’d received the signed contract and the keys to both the cottage and the carriage house. Diane had half thought Yvonne wouldn’t show up at all. Returning to Jewell couldn’t be easy for the younger woman. Not after how things ended between her and Aidan. How she’d ended things between them.

And though Diane had nothing against her ex-daughter-in-law, Yvonne had never struck her as being brave enough, strong enough or self-sufficient enough to tackle the difficult things in life head-on.

Lord knew, Aidan could be all sorts of difficult.

But she’d hoped the promise of a new contract would bring her back. Good to know she’d been right. Again.

“What the hell were you thinking?” Aidan asked.

She narrowed her eyes. But since his reaction—and his insolent tone—were quite understandable, she took another drink instead of calling him on it. “I was thinking that she’d be the best person to plan my wedding.”

“Your wedding. Right,” he said. “Would this be the wedding you’ve moved up by three months without telling your family?”

“I—”

He held up a hand. “Wait. Let me guess. You were going to tell us. When you deemed the time right.”

“I was going to tell you,” she said frostily, “at lunch tomorrow. After a few more details had been nailed down.”

“Why move it up at all?”

“Yvonne’s already booked for the summer and this was the only time her company was willing to spare her for a few months.” What she didn’t mention was the exorbitant fee she’d agreed to in order to get World Class Weddings to let their most popular planner leave for six weeks. “Al and I moved the date up so she could take the job.” She smiled brightly, as if Aidan wasn’t trying to skewer her with his glare. “From all accounts, she’s one of the best wedding planners in the South.”

Her stubborn son seemed less than impressed. “And since you hired her to plan your wedding, you decided to throw in a job at the winery as a bonus?”

“I decided that we could use someone with her skills and connections to help get our events business off the ground.”

“Get off the ground? We decided only three days ago to start hosting events. I thought we’d do a little research. See if this idea is even feasible before committing to it.”

“We’re already committed. You and your brothers agreed—”

“They agreed. I just went along with the majority vote.”

As if she didn’t realize how much that had bothered him—no longer having sole authority over all decisions made at the winery. Oh, she was still the owner, but for the past eight years, Aidan had run the company with little input from her. Once he and his brothers became full partners in July, when she retired, that would all change.

“It’s a done deal,” she said. “Which was why I wanted to get the ball rolling. I see no sense in putting this off.”

He stared at her as if he could look inside her head and sort through her lies. “You haven’t had more than a passing interest in the company since Dad died. Why get involved now?”

Guilt squeezed the air from her lungs and she stared blindly at the rings on her right hand. The rings her first husband had given her. The rings that, despite being engaged to another man, despite being in love with Al, she hadn’t been able to take off.

What Aidan said was true. So true. When she’d lost Tom, she’d stopped caring about the Diamond Dust. They’d started the winery from the ground up—literally. They’d planted the vines. Nurtured them and helped them grown. They’d renovated the original farmhouse into the gift shop-tasting room with their own hammers and nails, had come up with a business plan, taught themselves how to run a successful winery.

But without her husband by her side, she hadn’t wanted anything to do with the business they’d built together. So she’d turned to Aidan, who’d given up his own ambitions to keep his father’s dreams alive.

And she’d let him.

“Though I may have taken a…backseat at the winery these past few years,” she said, wrapping her fingers around the base of her mug. “I’m always interested in what’s going on with my company.”

“Funny how your interest just happens to involve my ex-wife.”

“We need her. Connie doesn’t know how to get the winery ready, so I hired Yvonne as a consultant.”

Their vineyard manager, Connie Henkel, had been a valuable employee ever since she’d started working there sixteen years ago. But now that Diane’s youngest son Matt—a noted vintner who’d worked at some of the best wineries in the world—had agreed to join the winery a few weeks ago, Connie had been forced to share her duties with him.

“There’s no way Connie can tackle this job on her own,” Diane continued. “Besides, with her helping Matt manage the vineyards, her time is limited.”

“There’s no need for her to help Matt,” Aidan said as he refreshed his coffee. “He’s more than capable of running things on his own.”

“Keeping Connie from those vineyards is like trying to stop the rain from falling. She loves them.”

“Then I guess you should’ve thought of that before you blackmailed Matt into joining the company.”

“I did,” she said, regret making her voice sharp.

Of course she’d thought of Connie. She’d worried that her decision would push the woman she loved like a daughter out of her life, but in the end, she couldn’t come up with any other way to guarantee all three of her sons returned to the Diamond Dust.

And then two days ago Aidan had offered Connie the job of events coordinator. Eventually, she would learn how to be the best events coordinator ever, Diane was certain of that, and it would ensure she’d always have a place at the winery. To everyone’s shock, she’d not only declined the offer, but had quit her job at the Diamond Dust.

Fortunately, Matt had been able to convince her to stay. And to give him a chance to be in her and her two young daughters’ lives.

Which was wonderful, especially considering that Diane suspected Matt had been the real reason Connie had quit in the first place.

But that didn’t change the fact that their events coordinator knew more about grapes than caterers.

Diane stood and crossed to the sink to rinse out her cup before putting it in the dishwasher, her movements jerky. Aidan was angry. She understood that, accepted it. Just as she’d accept the consequences of her actions, of the mistakes she’d made. One of those being that if things didn’t work out the way she wanted them to, he might never forgive her.

She shut the dishwasher door with more force than necessary. That was a chance she was willing to take, alienating her son. Alienating another son, since Matt still hadn’t fully forgiven her for forcing him to be a part of the business.

“As much as you may not like it,” she said, “Yvonne is the best person for this temporary job. I wouldn’t have hired her if I didn’t truly believe that.”

“She showed me her contract, the agreement you made with her on behalf of the Diamond Dust.” He set his still full cup on the counter and crossed his arms. “I want you to break it.”

Drying her hands on a tea towel, Diane slowly faced him. “I can’t do that.”

“Can’t? Or won’t?”

“Both. I’ve never gone back on my word and I certainly don’t plan to start now. Besides, that contract isn’t only between me and Yvonne, it’s between the Diamond Dust and World Class Weddings, and the last thing we need is another breach of contract lawsuit.”

“We wouldn’t have to deal with any lawsuits if you hadn’t forced Matt to break his contract with Queen’s Valley. Nice that you never have to go back on your word, but you have no problem asking your sons to.”

Okay, she deserved that. Queens’ Valley being the vineyard in South Australia where Matt had been working until three weeks ago. And a lawsuit was a small price to pay for her getting what she wanted.

She laid a hand on his arm. It was a testament to his love and respect for her that he didn’t pull away. “I realize this isn’t an ideal situation, but it’s only temporary. Surely you can put aside your own personal feelings and do what’s best for the Diamond Dust?”

Under her fingers, the muscles in his arm tensed. “Don’t I always?”

Yes. Yes, he did. And that was the problem. His rigid sense of responsibility and loyalty to his family and the winery had cost him his marriage. Now she would use those same traits to push him and Yvonne back together. The rest was up to them.

“Everything will work out,” she promised, patting his arm. “You’ll see.”

He paced to the table, muttered under his breath, then whirled back to her. “You’re playing matchmaker.”

Since there was no use in denying it, she shrugged. “You and Yvonne were meant to be together.”

“We were married,” he snapped. “It ended. It wasn’t some great tragic love story. It was a mistake. One I’ve been over for a long time now.”

“If I believed that, I wouldn’t have done this.”

He nodded once, his mouth a thin, angry line. “When you pulled that stunt with Matt, threatening to sell the business unless he agreed to go into a partnership with us, I thought it was a shitty thing to do—”

“Yes, as I recall, you made your feelings about my decision quite clear.”

“Even though I didn’t agree with you, I stood by you. But there’s no way I’m going to let you control my life. Not like you did to Matt. And just for the record, I don’t like being manipulated.”

“Of course not, dear,” Diane said, somehow finding the courage to meet his gaze. “No one does.”

He stormed out the French doors to the backyard. But unlike Matt, who would’ve slammed the door shut, Aidan barely made a sound when he left.

He’d always been that way, Diane thought as she wet a dishcloth and wrung the excess water from it, her hands shaking. Even as a child Aidan had been in control of his emotions. Couldn’t he see she wasn’t trying to hurt him?

Slapping the cloth down, she scrubbed the already shining counter. She’d seen how crushed he’d been when his marriage fell apart. He’d never gotten over that failure or the woman he’d loved.

Now he could correct his mistakes, give Yvonne a chance to correct hers, as well. And yes, maybe they’d even find love again thanks to what Aidan saw as Diane’s meddling.

She’d brought Matt back, reminded him what it was like to be a part of his family after spending so many years on his own. To be accepted and wanted and welcomed by them. To be a part of his heritage.

It’d been easier with Brady. Her middle son had been so lost. Hurting too much, drinking to numb the pain. Wrapped up in his isolation. She’d given him the choice of either accepting help or moving off the Diamond Dust. Though she wasn’t foolish or arrogant enough to believe her ultimatum had been the impetus Brady needed to turn his life around, she’d take her victories wherever she could get them.

Life was too short not to.

“HELLO, MS. DELISLE,” a woman said in a voice heavily laced with the deep South, when Yvonne answered her cell phone that afternoon. “Your father would like to speak with you. Please hold.” Must be her dad’s new assistant.

There was a soft click, then classical music floated through the speaker—Mendelssohn’s “Spring Song,” if she wasn’t mistaken. Yvonne tucked the phone between her shoulder and ear and picked up two of her suitcases. She carried them down a short hallway, past the tiny kitchen where she’d dumped her work binders, folders, inspiration boards and laptop on the table, to the bedroom at the back of the cottage.

Her temporary home sat deep in the woods, a good mile from the Sheppards’ main house. It was small and sparsely furnished, but she didn’t need much. As long as it had a bed, a closet, a shower and a TV with working cable, she’d be fine.

In the bedroom, she hefted the bags onto the double bed. She was staying whether Aidan liked it or not. Though she’d been tempted to give in to his demands, she hadn’t. Hadn’t given up her own wants to please him.

Not like she used to.

Her movements brisk, she flipped the lid of the larger case open. And he’d been so…shocked. As if the idea of her having the brains—or the backbone—to stand up for herself had never occurred to him.

Arrogant, stubborn man.

After another click on the phone, she heard her father’s deep, commanding voice. “Yvonne. Hello.”

“Hello, Daddy.” She picked up a pile of neatly folded underwear and carried it to the tall dresser next to the window. She could easily picture her father, the chairman of Delisle Enterprises, sitting behind his antique desk, the sun shining through the large window of his high-rise office. He’d be in one of his dark designer suits, the Windsor knot of his tie perfect, his light hair flecked with gray. “How are you?”

“I’d be better if I didn’t have to listen to your mother complain that she hasn’t heard from you in three days.”

Of course. Yvonne should’ve known that Elaine Winston Delisle’s next move would be to have her husband step in.

Yvonne put the underwear in the top drawer, then went back for more. “I’ll be sure to call her today.”

“See that you do. You know how she worries.”

Yes, her mother certainly did that. But he did his fair share, as well. An only child, Yvonne bore the brunt of those worries, the bulk of their love and the weight of their expectations.

And though she loved them, could she really be blamed for escaping to Charleston after her divorce? Oh, she’d tried returning to Savannah, tried to go back to playing the part of dutiful daughter, had even become engaged to the man they’d handpicked for her. Until she’d realized that what she needed even more than her parents’ approval was some freedom so she could finally just be herself.

“Now that I’ve delivered your mother’s message,” he continued, “how’s my favorite girl?”

Not even the warmth and concerned note in her father’s voice could shove Aidan’s words from her head.

Daddy’s little princess.

“I’m fine,” she said, more sharply than necessary. She pressed her lips together. When she spoke again, her tone was carefully modulated. “Everything’s fine, Daddy. Really.”

And damn Aidan for making her feel as if she should be ashamed of her upbringing.