“DO YOU THINK I could at least get a cup of coffee?” Rhys sniffed the glass of wine Anne had just handed him. “Instead of this glorified vinegar?”
“No,” Anne said with probably more patience than he deserved. “This is a wine tasting. You don’t have to drink it.” Anne took a sip from her glass. “Just hold on to the glass and pretend like you’re having a good time.”
“That’s—”
“Please, just do it, Rhys.”
In dutiful acquiescence, he lifted his glass and gave it a swirl like he knew what he was doing. “How long are we staying?”
“Three hours.”
“Three hours!” Rhys checked the time on his watch so he could begin the countdown.
“Shh. Yes, this is the social hour with wine and appetizers, then there’s the film screening, and after that is the dessert auction.”
Breathing deeply, he reminded himself that at least the event was for a good cause. Sea Barrel Winery was hosting the charity event to benefit a veterans’ organization. He and Willow had baked and donated a cheesecake and a marionberry pie.
An attractive, slender woman in a sparkly dress sauntered over to them. She looked Anne up and down deliberately and declared, “Anne! You look fabulous. I’m so glad you could make it.” Pretty with a strikingly pale complexion, the woman wore her black, silky-straight hair in a chin-length bob. Her silver-gray eyes matched her gown, and the deep red lipstick she wore stood out like a splash of color in a black-and-white photo.
“Hello, Gabrielle,” Anne said. “Thank you. And thank you so much for the invitation. Everything is so lovely. I’d like you to meet my brother, Rhys McGrath. Rhys, this is Gabrielle Timmons. She and her family own Sea Barrel Winery.” Rhys didn’t miss the warning look that Anne passed him along with the introduction. She was still traumatized by the near miss of an encounter at the scavenger hunt with Angry Baggy-Pants. Admittedly, Camile had saved him there. A laughing Sam had leveled Rhys with a wary glare and backed down. His posse had joined them, laughing at Camile’s remark, and they’d all spent a few minutes reminiscing about the high school PE mishap.
“Nice to meet you,” Rhys said. “This setting is extraordinary.” And it was. The winery sat on a craggy hillside with spectacular ocean views. This stretch of coastline was known for its windswept landscape and picturesque cliffs, which included some natural cave formations. The astute and industrious Timmons family made good use of the rugged terrain, aging and storing their wines and cheeses in the caverns while offering a picturesque backdrop for customers to enjoy. Their tours were nearly as popular as their wine.
Gabrielle beamed. “Thank you. It’s a ton of hard work, but we sure do love it.”
“I can imagine.”
“We’re thrilled that people are responding so positively to our newest vintage.” Gesturing at his glass, she asked, “What do you think of the cabernet?”
Rhys glanced at the still-untasted wine. “I’m going to purchase an entire case,” he answered diplomatically and hoped she didn’t quiz him any further.
Beside him, Anne smiled like a proud sister.
“Thank you.” Gabrielle’s eyes flashed with appreciation and then traveled over him with what felt way too much like appreciation. Rhys hoped not. He had no interest in any woman who wasn’t Camile. Whom he didn’t get to see again until the next evening.
Gabrielle turned a sparkling smile on him and briefly pressed one palm flat against his arm. It was a quick gesture, but between that and her lingering perusal, Rhys feared the worst. “That’s very generous. I’ll have my assistant Molly see to it.”
Careful not to make eye contact, he said, “It’s a very good cause.”
Anne asked a question about wine. Gabrielle launched into an explanation. A relieved Rhys tuned out their chatter and took the opportunity to study the room. To the untrained eye, the high open-beamed ceiling would resemble the timber-frame construction of his home. Knowledge and experience told Rhys the effect was purely aesthetic here. The space was attractively furnished with a pleasing mix of rustic and modern furnishings. Tall windows showcased the ocean view. Rhys estimated there were over a hundred people in attendance, milling around the grounds, checking out the desserts in the reception room and spilling outside across the deck. Anne had told him the amphitheater seated two hundred. Kyle and Harper were supposed to be attending, but he hadn’t seen them yet. He hoped they showed up soon. Friendly faces would be appreciated. Although Anne would tell him he needed to make new friends.
An older man holding a wine bottle in each hand used one to wave at Anne. Laughing, she stepped away to chat with him.
“So... Rhys...” Reaching out, Gabrielle draped a palm on his forearm again. This time she left it there. Rhys tried not to flinch. “Are you here with your wife?”
He answered with a simple “no” because he couldn’t think past the desire to peel her hand away from his body. It made him itch with discomfort. These social outings would be so much easier if strangers wouldn’t touch him.
“Are you married?” she asked. Nothing like getting to the point, he supposed.
“Uh, no.” Avoiding her curious gaze, he backed away, essentially forcing her to pull her hand away. Flagging down a passing waitperson, he deposited his glass on a tray with a group of empties. He remained at arm’s length, hoping the distance would discourage any further touching.
“Me, either.” The pointed look she gave him felt predatory, and he suspected an uncomfortable question would be next. He hated these moments. He tried not to grimace when she asked, “Maybe we could get together some time? Talk about wine, maybe drink a bottle.” She quirked a brow. “Or two?”
“No, thank you. Honestly, I don’t like wine.”
Lines creased her forehead as she studied him for a few seconds. Tacking on a teasing smile, she closed the distance he’d put between them and lowered her voice, “Well, we don’t have to drink wine. But I bet I could change your mind.”
“I sincerely doubt it.”
“Is that a challenge, Rhys McGrath?”
How did she get a challenge out of that? She went on to describe her favorite cave formation and how just outside the entrance was a perfect spot for a picnic for two. Rhys glanced around hoping Anne was nearby to save him. Or maybe for Kyle or Harper to suddenly appear. What he found was better. So much better.
Camile.
Only a few feet away, and all Rhys could think about was getting to her as quickly as possible. She hadn’t answered all his questions at the scavenger hunt. But she’d admitted to liking him, and he knew it was true. He could feel it. If issues were standing in their way, he would remove them. No matter how insurmountable she believed them to be.
“Rhys?”
Gabrielle was staring at him, and he realized he’d already taken a few steps away from her. Toward Camile. He paused to ask, “I’m sorry?”
“I asked you if that was a challenge? Are you up for a private wine tasting so I can change your mind?”
“No,” he said. “No wine. No picnic. No challenge. No, thank you. Now, will you excuse me, Gabriella?” Then, without a backward glance, he turned and closed the few remaining steps that brought him next to Camile.
“I DIDN’T KNOW you were going to be here,” a smiling Rhys said to a stunned Camile. Mouth close to her ear, he whispered, “I can’t tell you how happy I am to see a friendly face. No, that’s not exactly true. I’m ecstatic that it is specifically your face that I’m seeing right now.”
The softness of his tone and the feeling behind his words made her cheeks go hot. “I didn’t know I would be here, either. Harper invited me at the last minute. Kyle got stuck on a job. I had an earlier shift at Tabbie’s, so here I am.”
When she’d arrived a few moments prior, Camile had spotted Rhys and Anne, snagged a drink and then headed in their direction. They’d both been engaged in conversations, so she’d loitered around, waiting for the right moment to approach. She’d observed the interaction between Gabrielle and Rhys the way one does an impending train wreck. It was shocking and unbelievable and yet had happened so quickly she hadn’t possessed the presence of mind to intercede.
After glancing around them to make sure she wouldn’t be overheard, she lowered her voice and asked, “What was that?”
Camile liked how he looked at her; gaze slightly narrowed and traveling over her in a way that made her feel noticed and seen. Not in a bad way, but in a way that made her believe he was truly happy to see her.
“You look gorgeous. What was what?” he repeated absently, his eyes lingering on her mouth.
Heating thoroughly at the compliment, she glanced down at the sundress she’d hurriedly donned after Harper had shown up at her door. It was almost shabby and borderline too casual for the occasion, but she’d dressed it up with a pair of heels and arranged her hair into an elegant chignon. All her years of dance had made her a champion at the updo.
“Thank you. You brushed Gabrielle Timmons off like she was infected with a bad disease.”
“She kept touching me...” Wincing slightly, he gave his head a little shake. “I don’t like to be touched.”
Hmm. Camile did not know this; she touched him often in dance lessons. Was he tolerating that for the sake of dancing? If so, she needed to dial that back.
“Are you aware that you called her Gabriell-a? She hates that.”
“No A on there, huh? Shoot. I try to avoid using names when I’m not sure, which is most of the time. But Anne told me using names was a way to build rapport and get people to like me, so I thought I’d give it a shot. Was it that bad?”
“It was pretty rough. She’s not my favorite person, but I actually felt a little sorry for her.”
He pulled one shoulder up into a half shrug. “I didn’t know what to do. I think she’s interested in me.” He delivered this insight with grave dismay.
“You think?” Camile quipped in a sarcastic tone. “And...?” she drawled when he didn’t elaborate.
“I do not return the sentiment.”
“I see.” How was that possible? Gabrielle Timmons was gorgeous, classy and wealthy. Pretty much the most eligible bachelorette in Pacific Cove. “And did she run into your car or kick your dog before she hit on you?”
Rhys paused, surprise flashing across his face a second before he laughed. She’d noticed he did that often when she teased him. Like he was playing the joke back in his mind, processing her words. “I was just being honest with her.”
“You were certainly that.”
With one thumb, he reached up and scratched his forehead before settling his gaze firmly on hers again. The earnestness, the desperation in his eyes as he searched her face sent her heart fluttering wildly inside her chest. “Unfortunately, I’m even worse at socializing than I am at dancing. Despite the way it often appears and what my sister believes, I don’t mean to treat people badly. I hope you don’t think I’m a total jerk.”
That was when Camile was struck with several vitally important facts. The first was that he didn’t intend to be rude. There was no doubt in her mind that women hit on him constantly. Truly, he was one of the best-looking men Camile had ever met in her whole life. And there was this air of mystery about him whether he wanted it or not. If he rebuffed every interested woman with this same dismal amount of finesse, it explained a lot of the problem concerning his reputation around town.
The next revelation was that while Rhys McGrath didn’t seem to care what anyone thought about him, apart from his family, he cared what she thought about him. Camile didn’t know how to feel about that. She’d been on the receiving end of his abruptness in a manner way worse than he’d just perpetrated with Gabrielle. And now that she knew that wasn’t really who he was—how he meant to be—it made her wonder about that date. She needed to think about this.
But first, she needed to try something.
“Hey,” she said with an encouraging smile. “Your dancing is coming along just fine.” Then she reached out to touch his hand. His fingers felt almost frantic as they curled around hers and held on tight. Giving her the answer she sought. Being touched by her was okay, even off the dance floor. And she realized that she desperately wanted to hold on to him, too, to touch him, offer him some of the same comfort he’d given her.
“And I don’t think you’re a jerk.” After giving him a reassuring squeeze, she released his hand.
“Unfortunately, you’re one of the few, huh?” With a grim smile he looked away, disappointment stealing over his features. Which only made her want to take his hand again. Squinting across the room, he expelled a breath and muttered, “Anne is going to kill me.”
Camile followed his gaze to where Anne was chatting with the principal of the high school, the mayor and the owner of The Shoals Hotel. Camile had no idea what he meant by that. Did he mean that Anne would be upset with him because he’d been abrupt with Gabrielle? He hadn’t been that bad. Gabrielle had come on pretty strong. Back in high school, Nina’s boyfriend had cheated on her with Gabrielle, a pattern she’d established and never relinquished. Was Anne trying to fix him up with her? A flash of jealousy flared inside her at the thought. Despite his lack of interest, she had no right to be jealous, especially when she’d told him she wasn’t ready for a relationship.
He gestured at her mug. “What are you drinking?”
“Coffee. I don’t like wine, either.”
A slow smile spread across his face and made her forget about asking him anything for now.
“GOOD MORNING, MCGRATHS,” Rhys’s attorney, Bailey Leeds, said striding into her office where Rhys and Anne were already seated across from her desk. Pulling out her chair, she sat, scooted close to the desk and tucked her sleek brown hair behind her ears. “How goes Operation Reputation Recovery?” she asked, her shrewd gaze shifting between him and Anne.
“Not great,” Anne said. “I’ll be honest. I thought that getting Rhys out into the community and introducing him to people would help. But so far, the gossip seems to have gotten worse. Of course, it would help if he would quit insulting people and calling them by the wrong names.”
“Anne, let it go already,” Rhys said. “I apologized to Gabri-elle.” And he had. When they’d left for the evening, he’d thanked her, apologized—using her correct name—and then purchased two cases of expensive wine that he was now stuck with. The interaction had been stiff and awkward, but still, he was on record.
Bailey frowned. “How much worse?”
Anne ticked items off on her fingers. “Bigamist, drug dealer, commune leader, hit man, serial killer, dogfighter, scrooge. I could list the expletives being used to describe him, too, but that seems unnecessary. If it wasn’t for Camile at the last two outings, I don’t know what I would have done. Rhys almost got into a fight at the scavenger hunt before Camile swooped in and saved the day.” To Rhys, she said, “You know, you—”
“Dogfighting?” Rhys interrupted. “Seriously? I don’t even own a dog. And I have nothing against Christmas! I love Christmas.”
“Hey.” Anne raised both her hands in the defensive palms-up gesture. “Don’t glare at me. I’m just telling Bailey what we’ve heard. Between Camile and me, we cover a lot of ground.”
Bailey cocked her head to one side, and drawled, “Camile...?”
“Camile Wynn. Rhys’s dance instructor turned friend,” Anne explained. “She knows a lot of people in the community. She works several part-time jobs in gossipy places. Her sister Nina owns a berry farm and is very social. Her sister Aubrey and brother-in-law Eli are Coast Guard. Very active in the community. Camile has sort of been my ears on the ground, so to speak.”
Rhys frowned at Anne, who shrugged. “What? I need to know what we’re facing.”
He was uncomfortable with the notion that Camile was hearing these rumors. She hadn’t mentioned any of them to him.
An irritated Rhys refocused on Bailey. “How important is this, though, really? Does a bunch of gossip have any true bearing on me retaining custody of our niece? Custody that’s already been granted to me legally?”
Bailey shrugged. “It’s difficult to say. In all honesty, your chances would be better if you weren’t a single guy. Anne’s commitment to move to Pacific Cove might help, but a wife or a stable girlfriend would be ideal. You’re not dating anyone, right?”
“No,” Rhys said.
“Well, if you decide to, please make sure it’s only one woman at a time, that she’s drug-free, and not in any trouble with the law.”
Rhys nodded, secure in the knowledge that Camile’s frivolous civil suit didn’t count as legal trouble.
“Do you have any idea what Vanessa’s parents will say? As of this morning, they still haven’t submitted a statement.”
“I don’t know. Evan loved them. I’ve always gotten along well with them. Heather was kind of the black sheep of the family. Still, it was a surprise when she decided to fight for custody.”
Bailey thought for a moment. “So you don’t know if they knew that Vanessa and Evan intended for you to have custody of Willow? If they were shocked and outraged by the terms of the will, that could bode unfavorably for you.”
Rhys did have this in his favor. “Yes, they knew. Or, at least, Evan told me that they knew. After his first stroke, we were joking about it in the hospital. I arrived at the hospital first, and he said if Vanessa died on the way, then I’d need to get Willow to her soccer game the next day. Then he told me that they’d updated their will to ensure that I would have legal custody.” He glanced at his sister, who had tears shining in her eyes. “Anne came into the room right then, and Evan asked Anne if she would help me raise Willow. Of course, we joked about it at the time. You know, like siblings do?”
Anne agreed, “This is true. I knew. Our parents knew. Evan told us that everyone knew—including Heather.”
“He mentioned her by name? You’re positive?”
“Positive,” Anne and Rhys replied at the same time.
Anne added, “Evan said they’d announced it at Easter dinner with Vanessa’s parents and Heather.”
“That’s good news. If they’d been against you having custody, Evan probably would have mentioned it.”
“I still don’t understand why the fact that they named me in their will as Willow’s guardian isn’t enough.”
“I know. And most of the time it is. As it should be.” Bailey offered him a commiserative sigh. “But there are times... There was a woman in Maryland who left the care of her three small children to the family dog. In her will.”
“She was obviously crazy.”
“No, she wasn’t—that’s my point. At least not that anyone could prove. She earned a six-figure salary as a sales rep. Friends and coworkers and the pastor of her church all adored her. By all accounts, she was a productive member of society. Her children appeared to be nice, intelligent and well adjusted. The dog was an agility champion and exceptionally brilliant, according to his trainer. But not even he believed the dog was fit to raise the kids. Fortunately, as in this case, the courts have the discretion of something known as the best interests of the child.”
“Point taken,” Rhys said.
“My advice is to keep doing what you’re doing. Eventually, people will start to see the real you. Or at least come to accept the real you, the way that the people who know you and love you do. If that doesn’t work, at least you are proving that you’re able to socialize. Heather’s assertion makes it sound like you’re a clinically diagnosed agoraphobe. We need to show that that is not the case.”
Rhys sighed. Anne nodded thoughtfully.
They thanked Bailey and left. Anne was uncharacteristically quiet in the car. Rhys knew she had something on her mind.
They were almost home when she asked, “What about Camile?”
“What about her?”
“Why is it that you can socialize with her?”
“I don’t know.” He shrugged a shoulder. “She’s different. I know her. She...knows me.”
“She hasn’t known you very long.”
No, she hadn’t.
He could feel Anne staring at him. When he didn’t respond, she said, “You’re different when you’re with her.”
Rhys couldn’t disagree. There was definitely something about Camile. He’d been heading into a fight with Baggy-Pants. He hadn’t wanted it, but the guy had been gearing up to throw a punch, and Rhys would have had no choice. She defused the matter in record time.
“Your lack of denial tells me that I’ve nailed this. You like her.”
“Of course I like her. Everyone likes her. Somehow she manages that feat without even trying.”
“How much do you like her?”
“Anne, where are you going with this?”
“You heard what Bailey said. This custody thing would all be so much easier if you were married or if you had a girlfriend.”
“But I don’t.”
“But perhaps you could.”
“Are you suggesting that I date Camile to help secure custody of Willow? Or, better yet, whisk her off to Vegas for a movie-style fake marriage?”
“It sounds bad when you put it that way.”
“What other way is there?”
“The way that gives you the edge you need over Heather.”
“The answer is an unequivocal no. It’s dishonest, and I would never use her that way. Besides, she doesn’t want to date me.”
“Rhys, I can tell she likes you.”
“I didn’t say she doesn’t like me. I said she doesn’t want to date me.” At the scavenger hunt she’d told him as much. But at the wine tasting she’d taken his hand. So maybe... Had her “messy life” just been an excuse? He intended to find out. Which he planned to do by helping her solve some of these external issues complicating her life. Just the mere thought of her rejection made him feel empty inside.
“Do you want to date her?”
Heat crept up the back of his neck. He knew Anne wasn’t trying to torture him, but it felt like it. He wanted to do more than date her. He wanted to marry her and live happily-ever-after, but that would also sound movie-esque. And probably cause his sister undue concern. But trying to explain what was going on between him and Camile was too complicated. And none of his sister’s business.
“That’s irrelevant. I understand the concept you’re proposing, but I don’t want to do it. Even if I wanted to pretend-date her, we both know I’m not good enough at pretending to pull something like that off.”
“Hmm. True. If this endeavor has taught us anything, it’s that you are a terrible, terrible actor.”