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Sexy Stranger(17)

By:Kendall Ryan


He shook his head. "We're not open to the public."

"You should really consider it, play up the local angle. You need to advertise that each bottle was handmade right here. People eat that stuff up."

He opened his mouth like he wanted to argue some point with me, then thought better of it.

"Thought I heard voices." Duke strolled into the tasting room and joined us. "Breaking your own rules, I see," he said to Luke.

"Little brother." Luke tipped his head toward Duke. "You need something?"

Duke shook his head and then reached for my hand, lifting it to his mouth for a quick kiss. "Shame to see you get mixed up with the riffraff."

"I'll be careful. I promise."

Duke tugged his ball cap lower over his eyes and shot me a soul-filled look as he turned away. "I've got work to do. You two be good," he called over his shoulder.

Once he was gone, I took another sip of my whiskey, watching Luke over the rim of my glass. "What did he mean about breaking your rules?"

He was quiet for a moment, and I thought he wasn't going to tell me. It would have served me right because of the monumental secret I was keeping from him. A secret that was starting to knaw at me.

"We made a pact a long time ago. The tasting room is 'no girls allowed.'"

"Oh." I shifted in my seat, wondering why that rule was instituted and what it meant that I was sitting here.

"It was started to keep Molly out, but then it just became more. Like this was our place-a spot for Duke and me to talk business, and to get away from everything else."

I nodded. I understood that. Growing up the way I did, I cherished my down time. It wasn't uncommon for me to sneak out of an important family function at my father's country club to go hang out in the kitchen or the coat room with the staff. They were always way more fun. It was often the only chance I got to let my hair down and relax.

"I don't mean to pry, but you said something earlier about your dad leaving you this place." Reading between the lines, I was assuming he meant his dad had passed.

"There's not much to tell. After my mom took off, he had nothing left to live for and drank himself to an early death."

I blinked, surprised by Luke's brutal honesty. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be." He shrugged. "It was a long time ago."

"So, your mom is . . ."

"She left when I was seven, but to be honest, she was gone a long time before that, emotionally. It was no secret that she hated it here. When she couldn't take it anymore, she took off for city life. Got remarried and had a whole other family, last I heard."

I swallowed. That would have been tough for a little kid to handle. No wonder Luke was so hardened. His steely exterior was in place for a reason-most likely a defense mechanism so he couldn't get too close to someone who might abandon him ever again.

"Well, for what it's worth, thanks for bringing me here today."

"I'm glad you got to see it. Do you think you can help?"

"I know I can."

My mind was already buzzing with ideas. Opening to the public to offer tastings and food pairings and seasonal gifts was only the beginning. I could envision events like weddings and banquets under the gazebo by the pond. The excitement of building a brand like this from scratch was intoxicating.



       
         
       
        

Luke rose to his feet. "I've got some e-mails to catch up on and a conference call with a distributor, but maybe we can talk about your ideas later?"

"Absolutely. I just need a quiet place to work, and a pen and a pad. I'm going to draft up an entire marketing strategy for you."

Luke's eyes widened slightly. "If it's too much trouble or too much to ask, I understand-"

I raised a hand, cutting him off. "Honestly, what else am I going to do? Sit around and stare at the phone, waiting for Wayne to call?"

"Fair enough. Come on. I'll set you up at my favorite spot to brainstorm."

I followed him back to the side-by-side. When we reached his house, Luke led me up the front steps of his wide front porch and stretched out his arms.

"This suit you okay?"

There were wooden armchairs with fluffy cream-colored cushions, and a potted fern on the outdoor coffee table.

"This is perfect."

"Let me get you that pen and paper."

Luke headed inside while I lowered myself into a chair to wait for him. When he returned, he handed me a pad of paper, a couple of pens, a glass of iced tea, and a blueberry muffin.

"Molly made those this morning."

"Thanks. I should be all set."