Free Somebody Like You (Starlight Hill Series Book 2) by Heatherly Bell

“Come along, Pop. A little faster. Right up these steps. Here we go.”
    Billy walked back into the house. “Hey, Ma. What do you think?”
    “It’s paradise. Like Italy or something. And to think it was all Pop’s idea.” She patted Pop’s back.
    “Well, Billy’s realtor found the place,” Pop said. “I think I better go take a look at those grapes, son. It’s time to harvest.”
    Billy realized that, hence the pressure to get Brooke on board. “Did you find what you were looking for yet?”
    “Nope, but I’m getting close. I can sense it.”
    “Boys, I brought you all a snack. Don’t worry, there’s enough for everybody.” Mom held a plate of whatever kind of punishment she had for them today.
    “Thanks, Ma, but if I want to finish this renovation on time I need to get back to work.” Wallace said with a wince.
    “Fine, but you’ll regret it. They’re whole wheat brownies made with carob. None of the horrible processed sugar that has single-handedly killed so many people.” Mom followed Wallace to the kitchen.
    “I wish it would kill me now,” Pop said with a scowl.
    “Let’s take a look at the grapes,” Billy said as he clapped a hand on Pop’s back. 
    *****
    “All right, here we go.” Brooke said out loud to no one.
    She’d just passed the stoned entryway with the Vineyard placard and photo of a hummingbird, Mirassu’s trademark. Putted up to the top of the circular driveway. Now all she had to do was get off her Harley, walk up to Billy and check out the grapes.
    Any time now.
    Crap. Brooke took off her helmet and rested her forehead on the handle bar. Why had Billy always had the ability to at once draw her in and also make her want to run in the other direction?
    So what if she still remembered that kiss? The one in which he’d pretty much sucked the marrow right out of her. It was a long time ago and she was certain he didn’t remember it. He’d had a lot of experience with women even back in high school, and she’d had zip with boys.
    None of this mattered because he wasn’t her type. Long-haired baseball jock with a beard and moustache. Dressed in baseball caps and not GQ suits. Probably didn’t even own a suit.
    He wouldn’t be expecting her, because she hadn’t called ahead. If they were going to do this, she had to be certain Billy was serious. She wanted to make sure she wouldn’t find a harem of baseball groupies at the place. Did he want to make wine or collect women? Today she would find out.
    And okay, maybe she shouldn’t get her news from Look Here! magazine, but in the past the periodical had portrayed Billy Turlock as a love ’em and leave ’em playboy. And it’s not like she had any other image of him, since she didn’t know him anymore.
    Billy could date whomever he wanted to, no skin off her nose, but he’d have to put this business first if they were going to beat George at his own game. She wanted that almost as much as she wanted her own piece of land. To see Mirassu rise up again, courtesy of one Brooke Miller. Let the townspeople talk about that.
    Nervous breakdown her ass.
    Revenge wrenched her off the bike. Marched her up to the entrance, where workers came out of the main house carrying sheetrock. There seemed to be workers everywhere. In the yard, on the roof. Definitely some improvements going on here. A good sign.
    Scott Turlock waved to her. “Brooke! Over here.”
    She remembered Scott, the youngest Turlock brother, a soldier and Jeff’s roommate for a time. He’d been welcomed home with a parade when he’d returned from a tour of duty a year ago. She’d been one of many in the crowd.
    “I’m here to see Billy,” Brooke said. “And the grapes.” Just in case Scott didn’t realize how serious she was about all this.
    “Of course you are. Right this way.” Scott crooked his finger and turned to lead the way.
    Brooke had only been in the Mirassu winery once, a few years ago. She was gratified to see the fine rosewood floors,