She didn’t know what to say. There were things she wanted to explain, despite the fact that he obviously didn’t want to listen. Maybe she should just answer the question.
“Buy more grapes, make more wine. By year two I’ll start selling. I know the distributors. I’m not worried about getting into restaurants and stores.”
He was going to say no. She’d just blown the opportunity of a lifetime. Why couldn’t she remember to think before she spoke? It wasn’t hard. She had a functioning brain most of the time.
“I’d want a callable note,” he said.
“What?”
“A callable note. There would be a payment schedule and a reasonable rate of interest. I’ll even hold off two years until you have to start paying me back. But in return the note is callable at any time. You start to stumble, I’m not going to wait for the crash. I’ll call in the note and take everything you have.”
Her mind went blank. One second there were thoughts, the next, nothing. Her hands clenched tight, her legs felt icy cold, and her heart stood still. Then rational thought returned, as did her body temperature. She raised her arms and pressed her hands flat against the roof of the SUV.
“Did you just say you were loaning me the money?” she asked carefully.
“Uh-huh.”
She glanced at him and saw he was smiling. “I can’t believe it.”
“Does that mean I shouldn’t have the papers drawn up in the morning?”
“No. Please. Draw away.”
Brenna started to laugh. She wanted to throw herself at Nic and kiss him. Good sense and a seat belt held her in check. Instead she rolled down the passenger’s-side window and stuck her head out into the hot afternoon.
“I just got a loan for a million dollars!” she yelled to the trees. “I’m going to open a winery!”
Joy flooded her. She was going to get her chance. When she flopped back in her seat, she closed the window, then looked at Nic.
“For real?”
“You already announced it to the world. How could I say no?”
Happiness made her blood bubble like champagne. “I can’t believe it. You actually have a million dollars.”
“I have a whole lot more than that.”
“Show-off.”
“Hey, how about a little gratitude? I’m going out on a limb here.”
She sighed. “I am grateful. You have no idea.” She turned to him. “So why did you say yes?”
“I think you’re a good bet.”
After ten years of Jeff telling her that her life was uninteresting and second-rate when compared with him becoming a doctor and six months of fighting with her grandfather about everything from barrel time to labels, Nic’s words made her glow.
“Yeah?”
“You know what you’re doing. With a little luck and a lot of hard work, you can make your venture a success. I get good return on my investment. It’s a win-win.”
“The first bottle I produce is yours,” she said. “As my way of saying thank you.”
“A measly bottle? You owe me at least a case.”
“All right. A case it is.”
At this point she would have promised him a kidney. He’d given her the means to make her dream come true. Surely that was worth at least an organ or two.
4
The dog breeder lived in an old farmhouse on the edge of an orange grove. Nic pulled in behind a battered Jeep and turned off the engine.
“The woman I spoke with, Sara, said to follow the sound of barking down to the barn.”
“Easy enough.” Brenna glanced at him. “You do realize puppies don’t come house-trained. They tend to piddle in the night and chew shoes.”
He shifted to look at her. “I can handle it.”
She grinned. “I wasn’t saying you couldn’t, O Great One.”
“You’re mocking me.”
“I’m having fun. I’m still really happy about the loan.”
As she spoke, she slipped off her sunglasses and he saw the humor in her dark eyes. The corners of her mouth curved up and she nearly quivered with excitement. While he had an ulterior motive for giving her the money, he decided to forget about that…at least for the afternoon.
“Let me guess,” she said with a grin. “You want a male dog.”
“Of course.”
“That is so typically guy-like.”
“What’s wrong with that?”
“Nothing at all, although you could try to be a little more creative in your choices.”
“There are girl dogs and boy dogs. How creative could I be?”
He climbed out of the car and was instantly assaulted by the sound of dozens of dogs barking. Brenna circled the Land Rover and stopped next to him.
“Okay,” she said in a loud voice. “Now I know why your dog lady lives in the middle of nowhere. She wouldn’t be a very popular neighbor.”
“I guess not.”
They headed down a stone path, which led them closer to the noise. Several large trees provided shade for about a dozen large kennel runs and a couple of barns.
Nic held the door open on the one marked “Guests” and followed Brenna into a brightly lit reception area. A teenage girl sat at a battered desk. She looked up and smiled.
“Hi. You’re Nic, right? I’ll let Sara know you’re here.”
She ducked out through a wooden door. Brenna crossed to the cinder-block wall and studied pictures.
“There seem to be some champions in the bloodline.”
“Quality breeding is important.”
“Are you going to be showing the dog?” she asked.
“No.”
“I see.”
He narrowed his gaze. “What does that mean?”
“Nothing.” She continued to study the pictures.
“Brenna.”
“Just that it’s so you. You’re buying a dog with a championship pedigree, but it’s just a pet.”
“It’s my pet.”
“I’m sure it will be very proud of that fact.”
He did his best not to smile. “I just offered you an unsecured seven-figure loan. Shouldn’t you be a little more humble?”
“I’m doing the best I can.”
“Nic?”
He turned and saw a pleasant-looking woman in her fifties standing in the doorway.
“I’m Sara.” The woman waved them in. “Come see the kids.”
The puppies were kept in a large open pen partially in the shade. Eight fur balls in various shades of cream and pale gold tumbled together. The mother lay off to the side. Her weary expression explained that eight offspring were possibly seven too many.
“We try to let them out as much as possible when the weather is this nice,” Sara was saying. “Now, I told you that two of the puppies are already spoken for. Let me show you which ones.”
“Sure. What about their temperament?” Nic asked. “I run a winery and my dog will be free to roam a large area, but he’ll have to interact with people. Is that a problem?”
“Not at all. Goldens are known for their friendly personalities. I breed family pets here, so I choose pairs that are good with children and not excitable.”
Brenna tapped the gate. “Can I go in?”
“Help yourself.”
She stepped into the pen and was instantly surrounded by eight excited puppies. Nic watched as she sank onto the grass and held out her arms. The fur balls climbed over her legs, scrambled up her chest, and stood on hind legs to nibble on her hair. She cuddled them close, laughing when they swiped at her mouth with doggy kisses.
“Tell me about their bloodlines,” Nic said.
“Their great-grandfather was the first champion I raised,” Sara told him. “He was a beautiful, gentle dog.”
She continued to speak, but Nic only half listened. He found himself caught up in watching Brenna with the puppies.
Tiny paws messed up her sleek hairstyle. Mud prints stained her shirt and shorts. High-pitched yips of excitement mingled with her laughter.
“You are all too cute,” she cooed and earned a doggy kiss.
A puppy ducked under her bent leg, drawing Nic’s attention to the curve of her calf and the exposed length of thigh. She’d always been curvy in a way that he found sexy as hell. That hadn’t changed. His gaze slipped from her thigh to her breasts.
He stiffened as he flashed back to the first time he’d seen her breasts. He’d nearly lost it when she pulled off her shirt for him and had unfastened her bra. He’d seen naked women before, but no one like her. For the first time in his life, he knew why the word lush had been invented.
At first he hadn’t been able to touch. He’d been too caught up in looking. Then he’d been unable to resist what she’d offered. Full, sweet-tasting with dark nipples that tightened at his every touch. He’d filled his hands with her sensitive curves, exploring every inch of skin, licking and sucking until she’d writhed against him and they’d both been so hot that they’d—
Jesus. He jerked himself back to the present. Brenna still played with the puppies, Sara continued to talk about bloodlines, and he was as hard as a rock.
He shifted so that a fence post concealed his condition and did his best to think about mundane things, like dog training and what kind of leash he was going to have to buy.
He forced himself to pay attention to Sara and started asking dog-care questions. Brenna looked up, a puppy in each arm.
“How on earth do you pick?” she asked. “They’re all so adorable.”
Sara unlocked the gate. “He’ll have to go in and spend some time with them.”
Brenna grinned. She set one of the puppies down and patted the ground. “Come on, Nic. The grass stains will wash out.”
He stepped into the pen and sat next to her. Instantly several puppies clamored over her to get to him. They sniffed and barked and licked his palms and bit his fingers. When he picked one up, he felt its pudgy belly as it wiggled close and swiped at his face with a warm tongue.
“They like you,” Brenna said.
“I’m a likable kind of guy.”
“Maybe, but I doubt puppies are wildly discerning. They just want attention.”
One puppy, a light beige-colored fur ball, dived for his boots and wrestled with the shoelace. The pup pulled the bow loose and tried to run with the lace in its mouth. It got up a good head of steam for maybe eight inches, then came to a sudden stop when the lace tightened.
Unprepared for the sudden change in momentum, the puppy tumbled onto its back and looked at Nic in surprise, as if asking what had just happened. Nic scooped him up in his arms.
“You think you can take me?” he asked the big-eyed fluff ball.
The dog woofed in agreement, wiggled to get closer, and tried to lick his face.
“Careful,” Brenna warned. “You might find the puppy doing the picking rather than the other way around.”
Even as she spoke, the pup cuddled close to Nic’s chest, rested its head on his shoulder, and closed its eyes.
Nic knew he was a regular kind of guy. He was into sports, rode a motorcycle, and ran a successful corporation worth half a billion dollars. There was no way fifteen pounds of puppy was going to get to him.
But the warm weight felt surprisingly comfortable. Maybe Maggie had been right—maybe he did need something more in his life, even if it was just a dog.
“Tell me about this one, Sara,” he said, indicating the puppy in his arms and avoiding Brenna’s knowing smile.
“He’s going to be a big guy. Just look at those paws. He’s social and outgoing. A little stubborn.”
“Aren’t most males?” Brenna asked.
Sara held up her hands. “I don’t have those kinds of conversations with clients,” she said cheerfully. “You two can argue about that on the way home.”
