Page 37 of Fool Me (Timberline Peak #1)

CHAPTER

TWENTY-SIX

ATLAS

Serra Brilhante Winery looks exactly like Harlowe described on the plane ride here.

Sun-drenched hills roll out in every direction.

The vineyards are lush and green under the July sun, and the stone buildings that dot the property look like they’ve been there forever.

It’s different from Wyoming, but beautiful in its own way.

Wedding prep is clearly underway, but nothing feels finished.

Folding chairs sit stacked near the edge of the lawn.

A man is halfway through stringing lights between two olive trees, and pieces of what appear to be a stage are spread out in the grass.

A delivery van is parked near the tasting room that has its doors open, music drifting from the inside as another man carries boxes inside.

Harlowe squeals next to me when a woman with long, dark hair steps out onto the porch. I know from the lock screen on her phone that it’s her best friend and the bride, Vivienne, or, Vivi, as Harlowe often calls her.

I park the rental, fearing she might leap from the moving vehicle to get to the hug waiting for her at the bottom step of the main house. Then, I hold up one finger and unbuckle, rounding the car to open her door. With a nod toward the house, I say, “Go say hello. I’ll grab the bags.”

Her lips spread into the first genuine smile I’ve seen since the night she got the call from my couch.

Any doubts I had about taking time away from the clinic to join her at this wedding when we first hatched this plan are long gone—they have been since I heard the worst-case scenario over the police scanner and showed up only for Harlowe to crumble before my eyes.

From that moment, making sure my girl has everything she needs to find her strength and joy again in her own time became my top priority. But watching her sprint to Vivienne and practically take her to the ground has me thinking being here might start to stitch those wounds closed.

I lean against the car, watching for a second, when someone else steps out of the house. Like me, he hangs back and watches the two women with a matching grin on his face to the one I’m wearing. He spots me and lifts his chin to me in acknowledgement.

And holy shit, I feel like I’ve just been inducted into a club with a secret handshake.

A club featuring the best catcher of the last decade.

Retired or not, the man is still a legend. I told Harlowe I’d only be a little weird about this, but the ten-year-old in me is absolutely losing it.

Using the luggage as a weak excuse to compose myself, I pop the trunk and grab our bags. But when I close it, I find Xavier-fucking-Kingsley, future Hall-of-Famer, Gold Glove winner, World Series champ— that guy—standing right there, hand extended.

“Let me give you a hand.”

I hand him the small toiletry bag Harlowe packed. He glances down at it before looking up at me with a raised eyebrow.

Shrugging, I haul the other two bags through the gravel toward the house, giving him a smirk over my shoulder. “I’d never forgive myself if carrying my bag was the reason you couldn’t come out of retirement if the fancy strikes.” That’s as close to playing it cool as I’m going to get.

His hand comes down on my shoulder as a surprised chuckle rumbles out of him. “After the things I’ve heard about your brother, I had doubts, but so far, you don’t seem like a flagrant dickhead.”

The mention of my brother sours my stomach. I set the bags on the porch, taking a seat on the swing, and look from the girls to Xavier. “Even though I’m fake dating your soon-to-be-wife’s best friend to earn brownie points with the town?”

“I thought it was weird as hell at first, but who am I to judge? I’m marrying a woman I made a sex list with.”

“What?” Laughter shakes free.

His eyes go wide momentarily before he relaxes back into a smile. “Oh shit. You didn’t know.”

“No,” I drawl.

“Consider this us getting to know each other.”

The girls join us on the porch, Vivienne going straight to Xavier and wrapping her arms around his waist. “Did you get Haze down for his nap?”

“Sure did, Mama.”

Dark pink stains her olive skin. “God, I love it when you call me that. Never stop.”

“Never,” he murmurs reassuringly before refocusing on us. “Want me to show you where you can ditch those bags? Lunch is almost ready.”

“We have you in the apartment above the barn. I hope that’s okay. We thought it might be quieter than the main house with the babies.”

“You know I’m just happy to be here. You could stick me in a tent and I’d be pleased as a pickle,” Harlowe says.

“Are you going to let me take one of those?” Xavier asks.

“Still a no. I haven’t given up on you coming out of retirement yet.”

Vivienne chuckles. “He’s enjoying being a stay-at-home dad way too much to go back to playing.”

“Is this your version of ‘only a little weird’?” Harlowe whispers.

“Nope. The weirdness hasn’t even started. I’m saving that for when they’re all here.”

Harlowe shakes her head, but I can see a dimple hiding. “And you seem so responsible and put together.”

“When it comes to baseball, I’m just a boy at heart.”

Xavier climbs a set of wooden stairs on the outside of the closest stone barn.

There are no animals, just some equipment inside.

When we reach the top, he holds the screen door for his bride as she steps inside.

“Mom made the twins clean it up this week. Lennox and Lawson still like to sneak dates up here instead of into the main house.”

Next to me, Harlowe’s face twists in disgust. “You couldn’t keep that to yourself?”

The studio-style apartment is cleaner than I would expect from the way the girls are talking. The wood floors gleam and there’s not a speck of dust in sight, despite it being part of an old barn. Vivi crosses the space and opens a closet, grabbing a set of blankets and sheets.

“If I have to know, you have to know. Sharing is caring, and all that.”

Harlowe takes the stack from her, wordlessly placing it on the coffee table in front of the couch. “Not in this case. In my head, the twins are still caked in mud and bugging us to push them on the swing.”

“They’re two years older than Tenley.”

Trying to keep up with the rundown of the Cardoza family tree that Harlowe gave me on the flight is a workout. I’m almost positive Tenley is Vivi’s niece, who’s here from Spain for the wedding, but the Cardoza family tree is a sequoia, not a maple.

“She was always mature beyond her years. The twins were . . . not,” Harlowe remarks.

Vivi groans. “Does this mean we are getting old?”

Harlowe loops an arm over her neck, pulling her in for a side hug. “Never.”

Xavier perches himself on the arm of the couch. “My knees beg to differ.”

“Selectively—your knees ache selectively, husband . I can think of plenty of times when they work just fine.”

Xavier’s eyes narrow in on Vivi.

Harlowe loops her arm around her friend. “Careful, wielding that word. He’s giving you the look.”

Vivi looks pleased with herself. “Uh-huh. But I like it.”

Harlowe bumps against her to get her attention. “Um . . . Holy shit. Your boobs are like rocks.”

“Yeah.” She glances down at them and I look anywhere but where she and Harlowe are staring. “I should really go pump before I spring a leak.”

“Go. I’ll see you at lunch soon.” Harlowe gives her one more squeeze. “And if Haze wakes up before then, come get me. I can’t wait to meet him.”

Xavier leads Vivi back out of the apartment toward the stairs with a hand on her lower back.

With them gone, I look around the space again as Harlowe walks to the window opposite us that overlooks the vines.

Disappointment creeps in when my eyes land on the stack of sheets that Vivienne pulled out for us.

The bed is already made up. Leaving the sheets for the couch.

It’s not that I planned on sharing a bed—I hadn’t considered sleeping arrangements at all.

I’ve been too focused on Harlowe’s other needs as of late—everything else has taken a backseat.

But the beaming smile on her face brings me back to how things were between us before her world got rocked.

Movement at the window drags me from the past and back to the present where Harlowe is leaning against the wall, her hand on her cheek as she watches something out the window. There’s a softness about her as she looks on quietly.

I prop my hand on the wall above her head, following her line of sight. There’s two men looking suspiciously like Vivienne unloading wine barrels from the back of a pickup.

“Exactly how many brothers does she have again?”

“Five. That’s Leo and Luca—the oldest.”

“That many brothers . . . did you . . . um.” I clear my throat rethinking my question, not sure I want the answer to that.

“Did I what?” Mischief lights her eyes.

I think better of it. Because it doesn’t matter—or it shouldn’t matter. “Nothing. It’s not important,” I say without conviction because fuck, my head can’t let it go. And I know that’s not fair, but it’s how my brain works.

“Did I date one of my best friend’s brothers?” She turns from the window to face me, a wrinkle on her brow, like she can tell this is bugging me.

Her fingers dance up my chest. We’ve touched plenty since Morgan, but not like this.

My body reacts immediately and I have to tamp it down, because I’m still hung on hearing her answer.

And one flirty touch is not a green light to throw her down on this bed and finish what we started, especially with the folded sheets looming and pointing to a weekend in separate beds.

I have to consider that she might not be ready and that whatever was blossoming between us might have been snuffed out by circumstances and bad timing.

My hand wraps around her fingers, bringing them to my lips where I brush a kiss across her knuckles. “None of my business,” I say, trying to convince myself as much as her.

She sucks on her cheek, tilting her chin up at me. “I think we are well beyond pretending not to care.” There’s an understanding in her voice. She gets it. She gets me.

A knock on the screen door has both of us stepping from the wall.

Someone, I presume another Cardoza brother, if his dark hair and olive skin are anything to go by, stands at the top of the landing.

He wears a crooked smile that has those questions I just quieted screaming back to the forefront of my mind.

It’s possessive and stupid, but I can’t help it.

The voice inside my head won’t stop claiming her as mine.

Harlowe crosses the space with just a few steps and pulls open the door. I think they’re about to hug when he puts her in a headlock and ruffles her hair.

“Levi.” She laughs, pushing him away and combing through her hair, her eyes flicking to me. “God. You’re still a fucking menace.”

“Your parents didn’t give you any siblings. It’s only fair that the universe gave you me as a pseudo big brother.”

“The universe or Satan?” Harlowe slings back.

Levi ignores her sass and holds out his hand to me. “I’m Levi. Mom sent me to grab you for lunch.”

“I’m going to try to keep you all straight, but your parents could’ve helped me out by not giving you all ‘L’ names.”

“Just wait until you meet Grandpa Lorenzo, Grandpa Luciano, and all their sons.”

“He’s fucking with you. His grandpas are named Fred and Bob,” Harlowe says, keeping her tone light.

I look between them, not sure who to believe because they both look like they’re in on a joke that I’m not.

I narrow my eyes on Harlowe. “You wouldn’t set me up to look like a fool in front of your best friend’s family.”

She rolls her lips together and shrugs. Levi starts down the stairs, but I pull Harlowe backwards until she hits my chest, lowering my mouth to her ear. “Feeling bratty, are you? Seeing that smile on your face again would make it worth it if you did trick me.”

She turns in my arms, her hands landing on my chest. “Now that you mention it, that would be cruel of me considering everything you’ve done for me since . . .”

Her voice trails off, and that smile fades, making my grip on her tighten. “I know you want to be happy for your friend, but two things can be true at once. You can celebrate Vivi while still mourning Morgan.” Just like I can want her and fight with the demons that are poking at her past.

She nods against my chest, her eyes soft when she cups my cheek. “I wouldn’t have made it through without you, and I don’t even think I’ve said thank you for that.”

“And I don’t want you to. Thanking me implies that any of the last week was a burden on me, and that’s not the case. I made the choice to be there and I don’t regret that. There’s nowhere I’d rather be than with you. Through thick or thin.”

She swallows, her hand snaking around my neck and her fingers snagging the hair at the base of my skull, anchoring us together.

“The only thing between me and the Cardoza boys is brotherly affection. And, unfortunately for you, Levi was telling the truth. I made up alternative names for Vivi’s extended family when I was a kid, because keeping them straight when they all look alike is hard enough. ”

The tightness in my chest unknots instantly. “Think they’ll let me get away with calling them by your fake names?”

“Not a chance. I might not be a Cardoza by blood, but they consider me family and will probably grill you the same as if you were dating Vivi or Tenley.”