Crazy about Cameron: The Winslow Brothers #3(26)

“I don’t have the money,” she said. “I get a set allowance each year, and I’ve run through most of it buying this place. The updates, the sheds, the new equipment, this little cottage. Even the renovations on my apartment. The existing winery needs to be demolished and rebuilt as a modern winery and tasting room. It’ll cost upwards of fifteen million to get the building I want, and I won’t have that money replenished until January. I need to wait until next year.”

“Your father keeps you on that tight a leash?”

“He’s careful with our inheritances.”

“Finance it,” he suggested.

She shook her head. “Storys don’t do debt.”

“There must be a way.”

“I’m afraid there isn’t.” Taking another sip of her coffee, she turned to face him. “I’m sorry I can’t help Jessie.”

“Yeah. Me too.” Cameron sighed. “Well, I guess I should just . . .”

Suddenly, Margaret couldn’t bear the thought of him leaving. Last night had been so terrible, but since the moment Cameron had arrived this morning, she hadn’t thought about it. She knew that, once he left, her father’s ugly words would surround her again like a shroud.

“Please stay,” she said. “You drove all the way out here. At least let me show you around.”

He looked surprised at first, but then his lips—his full, beautiful lips, which she’d fantasized about kissing since she was ten years old—tilted up in a smile.

“I’d like that.”

***

Three hours later, Cameron and Margaret had toured the outbuildings and walked through the acres of grape rows, with Margaret pointing out the different grapes grown in each section and explaining which wines would be produced from which grapes.

Losing his father as a teenager meant that Cameron’s mother, Olivia, had been the anchor of his family, and he had the utmost respect for women, viewing them as equals to men on all levels of life and business. And yet he felt himself particularly impressed with Margaret, not necessarily because of her business acumen, but because of the infectious excitement in her voice as she talked about her plans for the vineyard. For years he’d slogged away at a job he didn’t love because C & C Winslow had been started by his father and because he felt stuck there, both by duty and complacency. Seeing Margaret’s bright and animated face, her words exuberant and confident, reminded him that there was so much more to work than drudgery, and that work could be glorious when it was driven by passion.

From time to time, as they walked beside each other, his hand would brush against hers, and he was aware of that clenching feeling deep inside that surpassed even his attraction to her. It was a frank longing for more from this woman, who smiled freely as she walked in and out of the vines, occasionally plucking a grape from its stem and biting into it, then offering him the other half. Walking in front of him, she stopped from time to time to lift a grapevine against her palm, stroking the leaves or gently squeezing a grape, and Cameron was jealous of every touch, every attention.

She grinned up at him and handed him another grape, her skin and hair lustrous in the afternoon sun. Why was she all alone? Why hadn’t some lucky man claimed this gorgeous creature for his own?

“Where’s Olson today?” he blurted out.

“I don’t know,” she said, looking down, her smile fading, the warmth suddenly draining from her voice.

“Is everything okay?”

She looked up at Cameron, her eyes troubled. “He proposed last night.”

The words ricocheted through Cameron like a bullet, ripping through his tender parts on an agonizing, visceral level. He reached for Margaret’s elbow, yanking her around to face him.

“What?”

She nodded. “He asked me to marry him.”

“What did you say?” he bit out, panic making him tighten his grasp on her arm.

“I said no.”

Cameron released the breath he’d been holding, gentling the clawlike grip of his fingers.

“So you broke up with him?”

Her eyes flooded with tears, and she blinked up at him before dropping her eyes to the earth beneath their feet. “Not exactly.”

“Christ, Meggie, then what?”

“It’s complicated!” she said, her voice breaking as she brushed the back of her hand under her eyes.

She looked so miserable, he couldn’t help himself. He pulled her against his chest, drawing her into his arms and circling them around her small body. She resisted for only a moment before leaning into him, against him, sighing as she lay her cheek on his chest like she was so weary she couldn’t hold up her head anymore.

“Everything’s complicated,” he said gently, thinking of the work waiting for him at home, letting his lips fall to the top of her head and rest there in a tender kiss.

She nodded, sniffling softly. “It was pretty awful.”

“Was it?” He tried not to chuckle, but couldn’t help a soft burst of laughter from escaping.

“Yes, it was, and it’s not funny, Cameron,” she said, but she didn’t pull away.

He adjusted his hold on her, rubbing her back soothingly for a moment before folding her in his arms. He didn’t say anything else, and neither did she. But he closed his eyes and breathed deeply, resting his chin on the top of her head, the smells of warm woman and earth and lilacs combining into the sweetest scent he’d ever known.