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Macy waved away her concerns. “I’m the chairperson. I can appoint subcommittees and others to help. I want you to do this. You know we need some new blood on the committee, it’s been the same folks for decades.”

“Well, sure, count me in.”

“Fantastic. It’s going to be so good. This year’s Founders’ Day event is going to be the best yet.”

“So was it your idea for the two locations this year? And isn’t it a bit late in the planning to go for two sites?” Kelly asked. Founders’ Day was held on the first weekend in August. It was close to the end of June, so not a lot of planning time.

“Umm, no.” Macy darted a look across to where Tate and Tyler appeared to be having an intense conversation.

And just like that the bad feeling returned. She had an idea of where the other location was going to be, and she hoped to God her intuition was wrong. Which it had to be because her intuition had never been right.

“Whose idea was it?”

“Well, you know the committee needs new people on it. Apart from me, Tyler Prentice took his dad’s place. He was the one who suggested the other venue.”

“Let me guess, the other location is the Prentice Peach Farm.”

Macy grimaced and nodded.

Damn, for once in her life, Kelly’s intuition seemed to be on point.

*

“No way, Tyler.Not happening.” Tate Prentice sat back and crossed his arms over his chest. “I won’t have the whole town traipsing through the peach orchards.”

“It’s not just your orchard, Tate. From what I recall, Dad still owns the farm—you’re just running it.”

Tate clenched his jaw until he almost broke his back teeth. “That was a low blow, Tyler. I love the farm as much as Dad, if not more. I’m the one who has walked it over and over with him. Not you or Trey. All you’re concerned about now is your vines. You don’t give a shit about the peaches. The very thing that has given you the ability to create the wine you’re so passionate about.”

It would be so easy to walk out and leave Tyler sitting by himself, but the last thing he wanted to do was cause a scene. Especially after what had happened with Kelly Turner basically calling him the town playboy. A reputation he supposed he deserved. But he was done sowing his wild oats. In fact, he hadn’t even gone on a date in three months. Of course, looking after the farm and visiting Dad put a crimp in his social life, but he’d gotten tired of the merry-go-round that had become his dating routine.

But it still stung she thought his flowers were a kiss-off gift. Of course, he hadn’t explained why he purchased the bouquets to her, and well, fuck, he didn’t have to explain his actions to anyone. He was his own man and could do his own thing.

Like not agree to the asinine idea of Tyler’s to allow the Founders’ Day committee to hold part of the town’s weekend-long festival at the farm.

“Look, I’m really telling you as a courtesy, Tate. It’s a done deal—the committee thinks it’s a great idea, and Macy was excited to breathe life into the event. You know it’s been the same for decades. It’s time to liven it up a little bit.”

A sneaking suspicion wove its way into Tate’s mind. Tyler was so passionately defending it and trying to convince him it was the best thing since peach jam. “It was your idea, wasn’t it? And I bet it has something to do with your wine.”

Tyler’s expression didn’t change, but Tate caught the slight tic in his right eye. A giveaway he’d gotten something right. Tate wasn’t even sure Tyler was aware of the little tell, and there was no way he planned on mentioning it to his brother.

“So what if it was?” Tyler sat forward. “Look, Tate, I want this wine to succeed. I want to bring something to the family. Yes, this is my dream, just like Trey’s is baseball and yours is following in Dad’s footsteps and running the farm. Wine ismything. By having the festival at the farm, I’ll be able to create a little buzz for the business. Even have a couple cases of wine for people to sample before it releases in the fall.”

Tyler’s indifferent wall he’d encased himself in cracked a little, letting Tate see his brother for the first time in a long while. Never would he have imagined that Tyler would all but beg Tate to do something for him. Tyler had always walked to his own drumbeat, even more so since their mom had died.

Could he do this for him? Could he let the town hold part of its festival at the peach farm? What would Dad do? That was the million-dollar question, because Trenton Prentice had closed in on himself as well after his wife’s death. They all had. The Prentice family had splintered when Mary Prentice had died of a sudden heart attack. She’d been the glue that bound them. He, Dad, and his brothers had yet to find their way back to being the unit they’d once been. Life went on, and now Tate was faced with making a decision that would normally have been Dad’s. He wouldn’t ask Dad’s opinion on this scheme of Tyler’s. Tate wanted his father to concentrate on his recovery after his stroke, not on matters related to the farm. And he was getting better, but the stress of having to play mediator between his two sons wouldn’t do him any good.

“You know Dad is due to come home soon. Don’t you think all the people traipsing around the farm will cause him undue stress?” Tate asked.

“It’s not like they’re going to go through the house. Besides, maybe seeing the farm flourishing will help his recovery.”

Tate highly doubted that, but this was his brother asking, and even though their relationship was strained, he would do anything for his family—including this. Why argue the point, especially if Tyler said the whole committee had agreed on it. The choice had been taken out of his hands. “Fine. You win. I’m okay with part of the festival being held at the property.”

Tyler smiled, a genuine happy smile, something he rarely did. “Thanks, bro, it will be good for all of us, I promise.”

“I hope so. Just don’t involve me too much, will you? Between making sure Dad is keeping up with his rehab and dealing with the harvest schedule, I won’t have time to mess around with things.”

Tyler fidgeted in his chair and couldn’t meet Tate’s eyes. “Well, here’s the thing. I’d arranged for a trip to California to look over the wineries there. See what’s happening and latest techniques. The trip has been booked for months. I can’t be the liaison with the committee.”