Feels Like Home

“I offered to pay rent,” she assured him. “But your mother said it was empty, and included lodging as part of my fee.” She met his eyes unflinchingly. “I wouldn’t want you to think I’m taking advantage of Diane’s generosity.”

“One thing I never worry about is my mother being taken advantage of.”

Yvonne would have smiled, if he wasn’t looking at her so coldly. “No. Of course not. Diane’s very…capable.” Capable. Confident. Intimidating. Almost as intimidating as her own mother.

Yvonne leaned against the hard edge of the counter and reached for the lantern. Her fingertips grazed the metal base. She glanced over her shoulder at him. “I don’t suppose you could…?”

“No.”

His refusal surprised her. He’d never refused her anything before. But that was then, she reminded herself.

She searched the area and spied a blue metal toolbox halfway under the bench. Kneeling, she wrestled it forward. “Do you…are you living here as well?” she asked, straightening. “At the Diamond Dust, I mean.”

Generations of Sheppards had lived at the historic plantation.

Aidan didn’t jump in to tease her out of her nerves. Smooth things over. He simply crossed his arms. “No.”

He certainly was getting good at using that one word with her. How was he not freezing in his running gear?

She turned her back to him and quickly pulled her skirt halfway up her thighs. Her face was so hot, she expected her hair to catch on fire. She stepped onto the toolbox, grabbed the lantern and stepped back down.

And yanked her skirt back into place.

“So you’re still at the house?” she asked, the lantern clutched to her chest.

The bungalow with vaulted ceilings and bright, airy rooms.

Their house.

“What I can’t help but wonder,” he said, “is what made you or my mother think that you working here would be a good idea.”

“I can’t speak for your mother…” Even if she could, she wouldn’t dare. “But I wanted a change. A challenge.”

And God knew getting the carriage house ready for a wedding in just over a month certainly qualified.

“Got tired of hosting fundraisers and attending luncheons at the country club?” he asked, as if they were discussing nothing more important—or interesting—than a round of golf.

Her grip on the lantern tightened. The corner of it dug into her ribs. He’d always treated her as if she was delicate. Someone best suited to look pretty on his arm. To be charming and sweet, and agree with him. To stand back and let him handle everything.

As her parents had taught her.

Just, she could admit—if only to herself—as she’d let him believe.

But she wasn’t that person anymore.

“Actually,” she said, “I’ve been working for World Class Weddings for the past five years.” And from the blank look he gave her, he had no idea what she was talking about. “It’s a wedding planning service in Charleston. One of the best.”

The sun streamed through the doorway, haloing Aidan in soft light. “And you decided to give that up to come work here?”

“I’m not giving anything up.” Which was one of the reasons she’d ultimately decided to accept Diane’s offer. “I’m excited to be here. To help build the special events side of your business from the start.” And then she’d go back to her job, back to her friends in Charleston.

“Unfortunately,” Aidan said—how she hated his sarcasm— “I don’t share your enthusiasm.”

“My enthusiasm for…?”

“Any of it.” His T-shirt pulled snug against his shoulders as his hands fisted beneath his crossed arms. “The winery hosting events, and mainly, you being anywhere near my family’s business.”

Though she told herself his opinions, his likes and dislikes, didn’t matter to her, not anymore, she was disappointed. “Oh. Well, maybe in time—”

“Time isn’t going to change my mind. And even if it could, it wouldn’t matter, because you won’t be here.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Let me make it clear to you, then,” he said flatly. “You’re fired.”

YVONNE BLINKED. Blinked again. But when she spoke, her voice was as precise, as unfailingly polite, as always. “You can’t fire me.”

Aidan wanted to throw that damn chair through a window. “I can’t?” He smiled.

She hesitated, confusion clouding her brown eyes. “No. I have a contract.”

“A contract with the Diamond Dust?”

“Of course.” Yvonne tilted her head so that her blond hair fell over her shoulder. He didn’t doubt the move was practiced. Just as rehearsed as her placid expression and condescending tone. “Would you care to see it?”

Though his mother owned the business, Aidan was the one in charge. All contracts went through him first. Everything to do with what he still called his father’s winery—which, in a matter of months, would be his winery—went through Aidan first. “I can’t think of anything I’d like more.” Except throwing her off his property for good.

“I left it in my car,” she said. She looked at him uncertainly. “If you’ll excuse me?”

And that’s when he realized she wasn’t being polite. She wanted him to move.

With a mocking bow, he took a deliberate step to the left, giving her plenty of space. “By all means. The last thing I’d want is to get in your way. Not when you have your heart set on leaving.”

Her step faltered. But then she continued on, her gait measured in her tight skirt. The sound of her high heels faded as she walked out the door.

But unlike her exit seven years ago, this time he was the one in control.

He followed her outside and watched as she crossed to her silver Lexus LS. She moved like the debutante she’d been—the sway of her hips subtle, her slim shoulders back. He watched as she slowly crossed the gravel driveway and opened her car door before sitting in the driver’s seat.

She was, as always, cool. Reserved.

Beautiful.

It’d been that beauty and her air of you can’t touch this that’d drawn him to her in the first place.

And he married her—loved her—despite her aloofness. He’d wanted to have children with her, have a life with her. Grow old with her.

But she’d left. And she had no right to come back.