Kissing Mr. Mistletoe: Wine Country Romance (Novella) (Holidays in the Vineyards Book 1) by Kate Kisset

Author:Kate Kisset [Kisset, Kate]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Castlerock Publishing
Published: 2016-11-15T00:00:00+00:00

“Joe planted all of these trees from seedlings. And see those?” Trace pointed to a silhouette of redwood trees against the crisp blue sky. “That grove of trees front a vineyard my uncle used to own. It’s what gave him the idea of naming the place Napa Pines and Wines.”

Monique leaned against his shoulder.

Trace squeezed her hand and something made him bring it up to his face and kiss the top of it.

Her beautiful lips curved up in a sly closed-mouth grin. She teasingly batted her eyelashes and then brought her hand down. Tugging his arm, she urged him further down the path. “We’re supposed to find mistletoe, remember? Get back to your day. I want to hear all about it.”

As much as he didn’t want to admit it, Trace felt relieved to have Monique there to talk to. “After the accountant left, I took the opportunity to tour the property. I found litter behind the trees, tripping hazards, and burned-out lights. Obviously, there’s a lack of inventory in the gift shop.”

They rounded a lone oak tree and Trace watched to see if she had any reaction to the barren lot he’d checked out after his talk with Joe. Monique gawked at the burnt wood remains of the cottage and cocked her head up at him. Her eyes were the shape of her Nana’s dishes.

“This is another issue.” Letting go of her hand, Trace walked over the mounds of debris and turned. Monique shook her head and gaped at him. Even though the fire happened over a year ago, the smell of fried wood filled his nostrils.

“This”—he grabbed a handful of soot —“is where the family cottage used to be. And all my childhood memories are right here.” He let the grey residue filter through his fingers to the ground.

“Oh my god, Trace.” Monique trudged over the ashes hurrying to him. She wrapped an arm around his waist scanning the area. “I remember the bungalow. Your Aunt Ellie used to bring Nana and me out here sometimes and she always had—”

“Gingerbread in the oven.” He stared at Monique, touched she remembered his aunt. There was no one else to share his memories with except Joe. Overcome with emotion and embarrassed by his sudden reaction, Trace swallowed a lump in his throat. The awful ache in his heart came back with the knowledge that all of his closest relatives were gone.

“Don’t.” Monique draped her other arm around him. She held on, hugging, and they walked away from the remains. “Don't look back, Trace. It will only hurt you. You’ve got to move forward and make new memories.”

He agreed, but what kind of future did he have? The only occasion he looked forward to was the release of his next album.

They picked up the path again and Trace glanced back at the bungalow site.

“I certainly won’t be moving forward with this property. I feel sorry for whoever buys this place.”

“They’ll be lucky to have it and will get the business into shape in no time.

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