Page 8 of Come Take Me Now

Silence fills the cab as I don’t know how to properly respond. Again, I don’t want to overstep, which I’ve been accused of before.

“I hope you didn’t find me annoying. I’ve been told I can be, but I don’t mean to,” I finally say.

Enzo shifts to look at me for a split second before darting his eyes back to the road. “You’re not. Can’t believe someone would say that to you.”

I drop my eyes to my lap. “It’s easier to let people think that than try to explain my brain is wired this way,” I nearly whisper. He just nods like he understands.

The drive to my dad’s is too fast. Things that would normally bother me, like the seatbelt itching my neck, didn’t when I was near him. What is he to me?

“Is this it?” he asks.

I look out the passenger-side window and sigh. “Yep, that’s Dad’s house.”

On my side is his extremely modern new build with sharp lines and gray tones. The trim is all black, and despite a sunny day, the house is cold and lifeless, just like everything about our relationship. The exterior couldn’t be more different from the winery where I found Enzo.

I turn my head back to look at Enzo. “Um, thank you again for everything.”

He puts the truck in park with the shifter attached to the steering wheel. “Anytime.”

I tuck my hair behind my ear. “Um, if I get lost again, I’ll know where to stop.” I joke. He laughs under his breath but doesn’t respond.

With my two suitcases rolling behind me, I look over my shoulder and see Enzo’s truck still parked. He’s waiting for me to go inside like a gentleman, and if he leaves now, I hope we find each other again.

Napa can’t be that big.

And his truck is distinctive. I’d recognize it anywhere. I can’t remember the name of the winery I found him at, but I intend to find it again.

I knock on the front door with him waiting at the end of the driveway when it hits me I’m a fool. I should have asked for his number, but a man like him isn’t looking for a kid like me. Ironically, he’d likely want someone like my stepmother, whom I may have only met once, but she’s closer in age to him and would be a more appropriate choice if that’s his type.

The front door opens to where my dad stands in khaki shorts and a polo shirt. My stomach sinks seeing him again after so many years. “Tilly, where’s your car?” I follow his stare toward the red truck pulling away. “And who the hell is that?” Dad asks sharply.

Bye for now, Enzo.

Chapter Three

Enzo

“Damn, the peaches aren’t ready yet,” Appa says after inspecting one. The branch snaps back into place as she releases her grip on the fruit.

“You can take the girl out of Georgia,” I tease.

“Oh, hush, you.” She turns to me and raises her eyebrows. “You’re quiet today.”

“I’m always quiet, and you’ve got a sleeping baby strapped to you.”

She rolls her eyes and goes back to plucking cherries off the trees. “There’s something you’re not telling me,” she says in a singsong voice. She tosses her handful of cherries into the wicker basket I’m holding for her. This time of year, Appa liked to shop for produce in our private gardens, separate from the grapevines, and as much as she liked to deny her Georgia origin, peaches were her favorite.

But, damn it, she’s right.

A general manager should have better things to do on a Tuesday morning, but this time of year, the grapes are barely forming on the vines. The whites are about to be bottled for aging, and I have last year’s reds to sample. There’s always something to do, and every day is different from the last. But whenever I see that glossy red Escalade drive through the gate, I drop what I’m doing to see her, even if it means staying late to catch up. Aside from yesterday, of course.

Fucking month-end bullshit.

Appa had been homebound for two months following Luca’s birth and was finally on her feet again, and over the past five years, she’s become my best friend. The little sister I wished I had. She draws people in with her endless sunlight, which explains her seven-digit follower count. Even I wasn’t immune to her effect. Though, if she had been single, she wouldn’t have been my type. She was too short, too petite…

I would have broken her right in half.

She and Robby are perfectly suited, and I know she loves his easy humor and lack of volume control. She still liked to tease him about being obnoxious, and he once mentioned how electric makeup sex was.