“I am only here a week, after all.”
She nodded. Pain was slamming into her from all sides. He couldn’t wait to leave. He was going to hate and resent her when he discovered that leaving was not something he could do so easily, this time around.
“And then?”
He studied her and then began to walk to the cottages. “And then? My life resumes.”
“This isn’t your life?” She parried, moving quickly to keep up with him. Beautiful
Milly deserved better than to be an object of disappointment. Milly was the apple of Ava’s eye. Could she possibly introduce another parent to the little girl who was used to being adored? Especially a parent like Cris, who would rail against the notion of parenthood with his last breath?
“No.”
She swallowed. “Where are you based now?” The question was glum; and with good reason. His insatiable thirst for newness and adventure had wrought the end of their relationship. And it was flatly incompatible with the responsibilities of being a father.
“Napa.”
“California?”
He nodded without looking at her. “I’m looking at buying a vineyard out there.”
Ava stopped walking abruptly, and her expression wore all the hallmarks of defeat and desperation. “You’re … what?”
His face was quizzical. “I know someone who’s selling. A particularly excellent piece of land with some of the best soil and most poorly tended vines I’ve seen.”
She opened her mouth and then closed it again. “You’ll move there?”
He shrugged. “I can’t wander the world forever. Besides,” another shrug of those broad shoulders, “People seem to want to remunerate me exceptionally well for the work I do. It doesn’t make sense to have all that money just sitting in the bank.”
“No.” She wrapped her arms around her body. “I guess not.” But why not here? Why not Australia? And why not three years ago? Everything in life came down to timing, and in this instance, it had screwed her completely.
He began to walk again, as if he didn’t realise that her mind was exploding with bitter realisations. His legs were long and he paced fast. They reached the cottages far quicker than she would have liked, given the heat of the day and her brow was beaded with fine perspiration.
She rarely looked at the cottages anymore. They were just a part of the property she adored. They were quite beautiful, really, with the vines that weaved magically between them. Each cottage was self-contained and set at enough of a distance to ensure privacy. They had been Meredith’s legacy – one of the first things she’d built when she’d bought Casa Celli. The accommodation and not the vines had been her first business instincts. After all, with three small children to care for, she needed to find a way to make money that was all driven from her home.
But the vines of Casa Celli had other ideas. Their grapes, despite being poorly tended, were excellent, and gradually she’d developed a love of crafting fine, boutique wines.
“Eh, Cris!” A voice called towards them from across the grounds. Their heads tilted in almost perfect unison. “You said you’d be right here!”
Ava didn’t recognise the woman. Then again, of all the guests who’d booked into the cottages, she’d only known two. The groom, and his brother. The Berries moved in very different circles to the Henderson sisters. Between their parents owning one of the most prestigious wineries in Australia, and their fancy private education in Sydney, they’d never really been around town like the other local children.
Cristiano waved a hand in the air in acknowledgement and then turned back to Ava with a sexy grin. “The party has already begun.”
“I can see that.” Her nod was uptight. She felt like a granny.
These guests were all a little older than her, and yet they had more freedom and fewer responsibilities than she had felt even as a ten year old. That wasn’t their fault; Ava’s personality had always been moderate and sensible. Except for that one month when Cristiano had derailed everything she’d known about herself.
She lifted her shoulders and then moved down the small path that led to his cottage. “May I?” She paused just outside the door. It was early afternoon but the scent of night flowering jasmine was already heavy in the air. She inhaled it unconsciously.
He pretended to consider it. “What do you think you might find inside?”
She rolled her eyes. “I was simply being polite.”
He reached over and planted a hand on the doorknob; his body was close to hers and she wasn’t sure if she liked or hated his proximity. His eyes bore sunshine into her soul. “There is no politeness between us, Ava. Only truth.”
The cryptic remark hung between them for a moment, and then he pushed the door inwards. “After you.”
She slanted a glance at him before stepping inside.