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The Prodigal Son
The Prodigal Son
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The Prodigal Son

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Aidan leaned back in his chair. “Once again, I’m working. Some of us can’t get by logging in twenty hours a week then heading off to climb some mountain or jump off a cliff.”

He wished his brother would jump off a cliff. Preferably without a bungee cord. So what if he took time off now and again? Life was an adventure. One he planned on getting the most out of.

Matt shoved his hands into his pockets and walked to the window to stare out over the backyard. But that didn’t mean he didn’t take his jobs seriously. His family had no idea what his life was really like. Up at 4:00 a.m., logging up to eighty hours a week in order to help the wineries who hired him produce the best wines possible.

“I realize your time is valuable—more so than that of us mere working stiffs,” Matt said, “but I’d think you could spare a few minutes to discuss the future of the Diamond Dust.” He faced his brother, leaning back against the wall. “What’s Mom trying to prove?”

“You’d have to ask her.”

“I did. She admitted she’s doing this for Dad. I bet he put some stipulation in his will so this would happen.” Matt wouldn’t put it past the old man. Even dead he was trying to run Matt’s life.

“He didn’t.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I, unlike you or Brady, was actually there for the reading of Dad’s will,” Aidan said. “Trust me, this is all Mom’s idea.”

Matt fisted his hands. The betrayal was like a punch to the chest. Why would she do this to him? They’d always been close. She’d been the one person he could count on to see the real him. She’d known, better than anyone, how badly he’d wanted to escape Jewell. How he’d wanted nothing more than to go out and make something of himself. Something important.

He crossed to the leather sofa against the opposite wall. Guess her reasons didn’t really matter. Not when all he could do now was deal with this situation.

“So what’s it going to be?” Aidan asked.

Matt lay down, propping his feet on the armrest. “I need time to think it through.”

“We don’t have time. Mom wants our decision today.”

“Yeah, she told me. Eight hours to decide my entire future? How generous.”

“Suck it up. Some of us only got five minutes.”

True. Aidan had to drop out of law school and move back to Jewell to take over the Diamond Dust when their father passed away. And Brady’s plans had been altered when he’d lost his fiancée to some other guy and his career to an injury sustained in Afghanistan. Both Aidan’s and Brady’s futures had taken turns neither had expected, but that didn’t make the possible annihilation of his own plans any easier to swallow. Especially since they both seemed to be doing fine now.

“Well, since I do have eight hours, I’m going to take them. I’ll let you know my decision then.” Maybe he could talk his mother out of this insane idea before tonight. Or at least get her to agree to let him be a partner in name only. There had to be a way out of this.

His jet lag catching up to him, he linked his fingers behind his head and closed his eyes. It wasn’t much time and he had a lot to think about. Damn it, he had plans. Commitments. His reputation as a world-class vintner was growing—the proof was his contract with Queen’s Valley.

But as much as he didn’t want to be in Jewell, he also didn’t want to see his father’s business sold to some stranger.

More than that, he didn’t want to let his brothers down.

And he’d French-kiss Aidan’s dog before he admitted that out loud.

He yawned. His brothers might think he slid by in life, but the truth was, he’d busted his ass building his reputation as a winemaker. He wasn’t afraid of hard work, and along the way he’d learned from some of the best experts in the world how to run a winery.

He just didn’t want to use that knowledge to run the Diamond Dust.

“I have a proposition for you.”

Matt’s eyes flew open at the husky feminine voice. Too bad he wasn’t the one being propositioned. Which was probably a good thing, he realized, as Connie Henkel walked past him without so much as a glance.

She was long and lean with sharp features, and her dark hair was cut shorter than his, with messy layers on top and wisps around her ears. She didn’t wear jewelry or makeup, and in her usual uniform of faded jeans and a T-shirt, if you didn’t take the time to look carefully, she could’ve passed for a teenage boy.

One side of his mouth kicked up. Luckily, Matt always looked carefully. So he noticed the subtle curve of her hips, the slight rise and fall of her small breasts, the feminine arch of her dark brows.

He noticed, he just didn’t linger.

“I’m not sure whether to be flattered,” Aidan said, “or terrified.”

Connie winced. “First of all…eww. You’re like the brother I never had and never particularly wanted. And second of all, if you were that lucky, you wouldn’t be terrified. You’d be grateful.”

Quietly sitting up, Matt couldn’t help but grin. He’d always enjoyed Connie’s smart-ass ways. “I’d sure begrateful if it was me.” He winked at her. “And believe me, so would you.”

Connie didn’t move. Her face was white, her mouth open. Hell, she didn’t even blink.

It was that blank stare and the fact that he’d known Connie since he was twelve and he’d never seen her stay still for more than a few seconds that had Matt standing and walking toward her. “You okay?” he asked. “You’re not having some sort of seizure or anything, are you?”

And just like that, she snapped back to life. Before he could decipher the play of emotions across her face, she smiled, though it seemed forced.

“Hey. I didn’t know you were in town.” She stepped forward as if to give him a hug, only to tuck her hands, and the bright purple folder she held, behind her back.

“Got in Saturday night,” he said, leaning against Aidan’s desk, his hip hitting a pile of papers and causing them to slide. He could’ve sworn he heard Aidan muttering under his breath. Knowing it would drive his brother crazy, Matt slowly slid his gaze over Connie. “Did you miss me?”

“It was all I could do to get through each day,” she said somberly.

Even with the weight of his pending decision on his chest, making it difficult to take a full breath, he couldn’t help but enjoy her. “What say we leave Aidan to his paperwork and go catch up over a cup of coffee?”

What better way to pretend his entire future wasn’t on the line than with the distraction of a smart, funny, attractive woman?

“You’re embarrassing yourself,” Aidan said before Connie could respond. “Besides, Connie has something she wants to discuss with me, so why don’t—”

“No,” she blurted, her cheeks turning pink when he and Aidan stared at her. Taking a step back, she cleared her throat. “I mean…that…that was nothing. The thing I wanted to discuss. It can wait.”

“Are you sure?” Aidan asked.

“Believe me, I’m positive. I don’t want to interrupt your discussion so I’ll just go.”

And she turned and walked out.

“How do you do that?” Aidan asked.

Matt watched Connie’s backside as she walked away. “Do what?”

“Flirt with my vineyard manager when I know what you really want is to rip someone’s head off.”

Straightening, he shrugged, making sure the gesture seemed casual despite the tightness in his shoulders. “None of this is Connie’s fault,” he said, heading back to the sofa. “Why take it out on her?”

Never let them see you sweat.

He lay down again and closed his eyes, shutting out the searching look Aidan was giving him. His brother’s unspoken questions. Matt knew what his family thought of him. How they perceived him. To them he was just a charming playboy—albeit one with a small amount of talent. Talent he used when he wasn’t busy white-water rafting, mountain climbing or seducing women.

All he did was give them what they wanted to see.

COWARD.

Connie slowly descended the stairs, the folder with her proposal bent in her clenched hand. So she’d chickened out. Who could blame her? She could hardly be expected to pitch a business deal to Aidan while Matt flirted with her.

Not that she took him seriously. He flirted with every female regardless of her looks or age. But him being there had thrown her.

And made her lose her nerve.

Crap.

It was probably for the best. This way she could take a few more days, look over her proposal. Make sure it was as good as it needed to be to convince Aidan to take her on as a partner.

As if tweaking the damn thing for the past eight weeks wasn’t enough.

She sighed. Yeah, she really was a coward.

In the foyer, she made a right turn, her steps slowing as the sound of her daughters’ laughter reached her.

She inhaled for the count of five then exhaled heavily before stepping into the kitchen. “Something smells good,” she said, forcing a smile.

“We’re making cinnamon rolls,” Abby said, not looking up from the dough Diane was helping her roll out.

“And look, Mommy.” Payton held up a metal bowl filled with what appeared to be brown sugar. “I made the filling all by myself. And I get to sprinkle it over the dough, too.”

Abby straightened. “I get to pour the melted butter over it, don’t I, Diane?”

Diane straightened and used a towel to wipe flour from Abby’s cheek. “You certainly do.”

Payton jumped off the stool and raced over to the refrigerator. “And did you see? Diane put our thank-you cards on the fridge.”

There, in the middle of the shiny stainless steel, held on by round magnets, were the handmade cards Payton and Abby had made to thank her for the Christmas gifts she’d given them.

“I put them there because all works of art should be displayed,” Diane said, stretching the dough by hand into a large rectangle.

Connie got a heavy red mug from the cupboard next to the refrigerator and filled it with coffee. She leaned back against the counter and watched Diane instruct Payton on how to sprinkle the brown sugar mixture over the dough.

“Is everything all right?” Diane asked her. “Is it your mom?”

Connie shook her head. “Everything’s fine. Mom’s fine. I spoke with her earlier and she sounded good.”

Diane patted her cheek. “I’m glad to hear it. But you know if you ever need me for anything, to take her to a doctor’s appointment or to watch the girls for you, you just let me know.”

“I will. Thanks.” A lump formed in Connie’s throat. She took a swallow of too-hot coffee to wash it away. “I just came from Aidan’s office and saw Matt there.”

“You make it sound like you just ran into the Loch Ness monster.”

“Well, it was a…rare sighting.” She frowned. “Come to think of it, I can’t remember seeing Matt up there since Tom died.”

“All my boys dealt with their father’s death in their own way,” she said, her voice taking on that note of grief, of longing it always did when she spoke of her deceased husband. “Aidan couldn’t bear to change anything in that office to keep the memories alive, while Matt avoided both the room and the feelings those memories evoked.”

“And Brady?”

“Brady went off to war, away from us all.” She crossed over to the stove and unwrapped a stick of butter before putting it in a small saucepan. “Who’s to say any of them were wrong?”

Well, Connie could say. After all, Brady and Matt had left Aidan and Diane when they needed them most. But, she thought with no little amount of pride, she’d been there. For them and for the Diamond Dust.

Finishing her coffee, she rinsed the cup in the sink. “I’d better get back to work.”

“Why don’t I bring the girls over to you after lunch?” Diane asked.

“That’s fine. I’ll be out in Pinot Noir block if you need me. You two behave,” she told her daughters.

“We will,” Abby assured her. “Bye, Mommy.”

Connie went out the back door. There was no way she was going to take the chance of running into Aidan or Matt again. It wasn’t until she was safely back in her office with the door shut that she realized she was still carrying the folder with her proposal.

She laid it on her neat desk. God, it was almost laughable. She’d spent half her life wanting nothing more than to be a part of the Diamond Dust, to be a member of the Sheppard family, and she was too scared to go for it.

For sixteen years she’d worked hard to prove her loyalty to both the family and the winery. To prove her worth. When Tom lost his battle with pancreatic cancer, she was the one who’d helped Aidan make the transition to winery president. Matt and Brady had both been long gone, but she’d stuck. And she’d busted her ass to keep the Diamond Dust going.

Connie snorted. Who knew? Maybe her mother had been right all this time. Maybe she really did need to stop wishing for things that weren’t going to happen. That weren’t meant to be.

She sat down, and after a moment, put the folder back in the bottom drawer.

“CAN’T YOU DO SOMETHING that will guarantee he’ll agree?” Diane asked Aidan later that day as they waited for Brady and Matt in her large kitchen.

“No problem.” Aidan sat at the table, tipped his head side to side in an effort to ease the tension tightening his muscles. “If Matt shows up, I’ll put him in a choke hold so you can point a gun to his head.”

Diane’s mouth flattened into a disapproving line. “I’m being serious, Aidan.”

He drummed his fingers where a shaft of sunlight hit the table through sliding glass doors that led to a bricked veranda. “We both know Matt will draw this out for as long as possible. You didn’t really think he’d go along with this idea willingly, did you? Or make it easy on any of us?”

“A mother can hope,” she murmured, wiping nonexistent crumbs from the granite kitchen counter with a dishcloth. She scrubbed at a spot by the stove. “Is it so wrong for me to want my sons, all three of my sons, working together?”

And that question was as loaded as the hypothetical gun Aidan had just mentioned. “What if one of those sons doesn’t want to be a part of the Diamond Dust?”

“Matt wants to be a part of it.” Crossing to the opposite wall, she wiped fingerprints from one of the double, stainless steel ovens. “He just doesn’t realize it yet. Just as Brady didn’t realize it until you convinced him.”

Convinced? Aidan rose and walked over to the fridge. Lily, who’d been napping in front of the large stone fireplace in the connecting family room, padded over to him, her nails clicking on the tile floor. He hadn’t convinced his brother to do anything, he thought as he got a can of soda. Nothing short of dynamite could move Brady once he’d set his mind to stay still. A trait all the Sheppards shared. No, it’d taken a good dose of blackmail to get Brady to start working at the winery.

Seemed his mother didn’t have a corner on that market after all.

But Brady’s situation had been different. Aidan hadn’t been trying to get him on board for his own personal agenda or to fulfill his father’s greatest wish. He’d done it for his brother.

Brady had been lost. Floundering. Drinking too much and being a complete ass—nothing new, really. But he hadn’t even wanted anything to do with his own kid after getting J.C. pregnant. Of course, J.C. being the sister of Brady’s ex-fiancée had complicated matters.