Read Love Me Like This Page 2


  CHAPTER TWO

  Nervous wasn't nearly big enough a word for what Taylor Cardenes was feeling. She was opening her B&B to the public today.

  And she was finally going to see Justin Morrison again.

  She took a deep breath as she turned to look at the building and garden her grandfather had left to her so unexpectedly. Six months ago, her parents had called with the very sad news that her grandfather had passed away in his sleep. Sam Cardenes had been a farmer all his life, growing berries and lemons and nuts, but when Taylor's grandmother had passed away in her early sixties, he'd sold off the farm and retired to St. Helena.

  Taylor remembered the first time she'd seen this place. The half-acre garden had been wild and unruly, the rambling Victorian house had needed a new roof...and she'd fallen head over heels in love.

  Given her aptitude for science and math, she'd been encouraged to focus on STEM--Science, Technology, Engineering and Math--classes. And she enjoyed thinking through difficult problems in her classes and labs. But she'd never felt anywhere near as at home in a classroom or laboratory as she did in her grandpa's home and garden.

  It wasn't something she'd ever admitted out loud, though, not even to her grandfather. But he must have known, because while her parents and brother had been bequeathed Sam's stocks and his classic car, he'd left her his home. In any case, no one else in her family would have wanted this property. All they ever saw when they came to visit were the weeds coming through the fence, the broken floorboards on the wraparound porch, and the chipped tiles on the kitchen counter.

  Taylor had turned in her resignation at the biotech firm the very next day. It wasn't like she was curing cancer or anything. The company specialized in "dermatological breakthroughs," which was a fancy way of saying they made expensive skin creams for wealthy women. Still, leaving it was the riskiest thing she'd ever done. The only risky thing, actually.

  Well, apart from that kiss with Justin five years ago.

  No. She needed to stop replaying the night she'd thrown herself at him, stop the flush of heat from moving through her at how good the kiss had been--and how embarrassed she'd been the next morning. Surely he'd forgotten all about it by now and they could leave the past in the past, where it belonged.

  Working to shake the memories away, she admired her newly painted sign--Cardenes Wine Country B&B--proud to carry on the family name. The business was another risk she hadn't planned on taking, but which now seemed almost inevitable.

  When she'd first moved to St. Helena, she'd thrown herself into remodeling the house and cleaning up the garden while living off her savings. After several months, however, she could no longer put off the uninspiring task of looking for another job. It had been pure serendipity that she had found a box of newspaper clippings in the attic, stories about the years her grandfather's home had been a B&B many decades ago. She hadn't ever thought to be a part of the hospitality business, but the idea of reopening a B&B wouldn't let go.

  She'd been terrified, but also elated, the day she'd filed for her business license. For someone who had always done what was expected of her, who had always walked the straight and narrow and most especially the safe--the freedom she'd experienced these past few months on her own was heady.

  She'd wanted to celebrate that day in the town hall. She'd thought immediately of Justin and wished for the millionth time that he could be there with her instead of thousands of miles away--and most of all that they could still be best friends the way they used to be.

  That was when Taylor had crumpled at the registrar's desk, fainting from a sudden pain in her side so intense that passing out was her only option.

  Taylor had always been healthy, rarely needing anything more than a couple of over-the-counter pain pills, or a dose of antibiotics at worst, to cure whatever ailed her.

  It turned out antibiotics wouldn't be cutting it this time.

  She'd studied polycystic kidney disease in college. PKD had been on the physiology final, one of a dozen diseases in a textbook. She'd analyzed the PKD case studies to get an A in the class--not to keep herself alive.

  Her cell phone rang with her mother's ring tone. She'd called every single day from the time Taylor had left for college until now. Taylor always felt guilty if she didn't pick up, even more so now that she knew how worried her mother was about her health.

  "Hi, Mom." Knowing what the questions were sure to be, she preempted them by saying, "Everything is going great for my opening today, and I'm feeling good."

  "I just want to make sure you're not working too hard," Caroline said. "I should have flown out to help."

  Her parents had not taken the news of her disease well, to say the least. They were soft-spoken and loving, but in a distinctly careful way. They had their reasons--two years before Taylor was born, her parents had lost a baby daughter to meningitis--so she understood why they were always so intent on keeping her and her brother safe. They'd wanted her to attend the University of Rochester so that she could live at home while going to college. Her boyfriend, Bruce, had wanted that too, given that he was already a freshman there. But her heart was secretly set on Stanford, and when her acceptance came, no one could deny that it was an opportunity of a lifetime. Her parents had reluctantly let her go, but they'd always been anxious about her living on the West Coast and had wanted her to move back home as soon as she'd graduated. One day she hoped they'd understand that she was a California girl at heart.

  "Everyone in town has been so helpful," she told her mother, smiling as she thought about the cookies and flowers and bunches of grapes that had been dropped off by her neighbors that morning. The local paper was even running free ads for her B&B for the first month. "You don't need to worry."

  "Of course I'm worrying! Your kidneys are already so impaired that even if you're really careful, the chances of your blood pressure spiking, or having cysts grow in your kidneys and burst, or even, God forbid, having an aneurysm--"

  "Mom, stop." She took a deep breath to keep her heart from racing at the list of things that could be going wrong inside her own body right this very second. "You know I'm on the waiting list for a transplant. And until then, I'm doing everything the doctor said to do. I'm eating right and drinking enough water and going for walks and getting my kidney function tested on a regular basis." She was also taking a regular dose of over-the-counter drugs for pain management, but she knew better than to mention that.

  "If only your father or brother or I were a match, honey, you know we'd donate a kidney to you in a heartbeat."

  She did know that, but honestly, she was glad that they weren't. Taylor knew she wasn't the only one who felt that way--many people with kidney disease were deeply reticent to ask their loved ones for a kidney donation. Yes, she understood that successful kidney transplants took place every day all over the world. But she still couldn't let go of the what-ifs.

  What if something happened to someone she loved while they were in transplant surgery?

  Or what if they made it through surgery all right, but then ended up becoming ill down the road when it turned out they actually did need their second kidney to live a long and healthy life?

  Or what if they gave her a kidney and her body rejected it, making it a pointless sacrifice on their part?

  And, of course, she would never wish harm on anyone so that she could get their organ via the deceased-donor program.

  But her mother didn't want to hear any of that, so she simply said, "Everything is going to be okay." It was the mantra she'd been repeating ever since the diagnosis, especially after her last round of tests. Her kidney function was below twenty percent--and rapidly decreasing. It was another fact she didn't think it was wise to mention to her mother until she was in a calmer frame of mind.

  A car pulled up in front of her newly painted front gate, and the butterflies started dancing around inside her belly again. "I think my first guests have arrived. I've got to go."

  "Call if you need anything, anything at all,
and I'll be on the first plane out."

  "Thanks, Mom. I love you too."

  Dropping the phone into her back pocket, Taylor ran her gaze over her home and garden one more time. This was it--the beginning of her new life.

  Shoving the rush of fear aside, she turned to open the front gate...and her heart stopped in its tracks. Though she'd known he'd be here soon, it was still a shock to see him again.

  Justin Morrison.

  The best friend she'd always secretly loved.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Justin was stunned speechless, and his heart was racing as though he'd just sprinted around a track. All because the girl he'd tried like hell to forget was standing in front of him...and she definitely wasn't a girl anymore.

  Taylor had always been long and lean, with warm brown eyes and a cheerful smile. But he could swear she'd never had curves like these in college. And her mouth hadn't been so full, either, had it? Or her gaze so full of innate sensuality?

  He swallowed hard, belatedly realizing he was standing there staring at her like an idiot. He'd planned what he was going to say during the drive, but none of his grand apologies sounded right anymore.

  "Taylor." He couldn't keep the emotion from his voice as he said her name. "It's been way too long."

  The next thing he knew, she was running into his arms and he was holding her the way he'd secretly dreamed of for the past five years. Longer than that--since the first time he'd set eyes on her during freshman year at Stanford.

  "Justin." She drew back just enough to look into his eyes. "I'm so glad you're here." Then she pulled him close and rested her cheek on his chest. "Promise me we won't ever go that long again without seeing each other, without talking to each other."

  "I promise."

  He'd been an idiot to go dark on her in Germany. Just as he'd been a fool to assume that things would be awkward between them now, that their conversations would be stilted, that there would be lingering guilt or blame.

  He should have known that Taylor would only ever welcome him with open arms, no matter how badly he'd screwed up. She'd always been forgiving, ready to see the best in people.

  When she stepped back, her cheeks were flushed, and he was pretty sure he'd never seen her look more beautiful than she did standing in the Napa Valley sunlight, surrounded by flowers. It struck him how right she looked. More right, he suddenly realized, than she'd ever looked on campus or inside a chemistry lab.

  "So this place is yours now?"

  She grinned as she turned to take in the Victorian building, painted a cheery yellow with purple trim. "It sure is." He could see how proud she was, and he wanted to tell her how proud he was of her too. He could only guess at the work she must have put in to make the B&B look so sparkly and welcoming. "I can't tell you how fun it is that you're my first guest." She cleared her throat and asked in an officious way, "May I help you with your bags, sir?"

  He laughed, glad for the easy emotion. He hadn't laughed much these past years, not the way he used to whenever the two of them were together. "I'll grab my things from the car later. How about a quick tour before the rest of your guests show up?"

  "Tonight it's just you and the Belmonts, a family of four, so hopefully we'll get some time to catch up. I'll show you around the house first, and then we can head out into the backyard."

  He reached to grab her hand, a touch that was instantly electric, at least for him. There was so much he had to apologize for, but first he needed her to know, "I was sorry to hear about your grandfather."

  Her face fell, and she gripped his hand tightly. "I really miss him. And I still can't believe he left his home to me."

  "He knew how much you loved it."

  "I really do. Even more now that I've had these past few months to make it mine."

  He hadn't yet let go of her hand, couldn't quite bring himself to break contact. "Why didn't you tell me about him? And your new career?"

  A guilty look crossed her face. "Last we talked, you were on the verge of a big breakthrough in the lab. I figured I'd tell you about everything when you came up for air. And with Drew and Ashley's wedding, I knew I'd at least see you there."

  He ran a hand through his hair, feeling like a complete ass. She wasn't the one who should be looking guilty, he was. "I'm sorry I've been such a bad friend." All because their one drunken kiss hadn't turned into the happy-ever-after he'd been hoping for. "I have no excuse for the way I've behaved since leaving the country. I should have made more of an effort."

  "Stop it." She might look like a ray of sunshine, but she could be surprisingly firm. "I won't let you beat yourself up for doing such important work. You're on the verge of curing breast cancer. That's more important than helping me figure out the best paint color for my B&B."

  He wasn't surprised that she didn't want to hear his apologies. She'd never been one to hold a grudge--if she had, maybe she would have dumped Boring Bruce one of the many times he'd disappointed her. Justin hated knowing that he was no better than her boyfriend.

  Which was why he made himself say, "Much as I wish I was actually curing cancer, I'm not quite there yet. My research is just one piece of the puzzle."

  "A really big, important piece."

  "What you're doing is important too, Taylor. Your grandfather's legacy is living on because of you. And," he added with a grin, "the purple paint looks great with the yellow."

  "Thank you." She beamed at him as if he'd just given her the greatest compliment ever. "I just made chocolate chip cookies, if you're hungry after your drive."

  His mouth was already watering as he asked, "Double chunk?"

  "I wouldn't make them any other way."

  How he didn't kiss her then, he had no idea.

  Somehow, he kept his mouth off hers as they headed up the porch steps and she pointed out the fountain she'd installed in the garden, along with new floorboards on the porch and new sashes in all of the windows.

  "You did all of this by yourself?" He'd always loved working with his hands--his father had passed on his love of woodworking to Justin when he was just a little kid. This would have been a heck of a great project.

  "I never knew I had any of it in me until I got here," she said as they walked into the bright and welcoming entry. "Never even held a hammer before. At first, I was really intimidated by each new thing I needed to learn, but along the way, I realized that as long as I don't give up, I can do almost anything I set my mind to."

  "Of course you can." He'd known that about her all along. The only thing he was surprised by was that she hadn't known it too, until she'd decided to open the B&B.

  She gave him another radiant smile, then picked up a tray of cookies sitting on a table by the front window and held it out to him. The sound that came out of his mouth as he bit into one would have been embarrassing if he'd made it in front of anyone but Taylor. "Thisissoogood." He shoved the rest of the cookie into his mouth while he was still talking, already reaching for another.

  She laughed, looking delighted as she watched him gorge on the cookies. "Do you have any idea how much I've missed you? If you're not careful, I might not let you get back on that plane to Germany next week."

  His chest ached at the thought of leaving her. His vow not to fall head over heels in love with her again hadn't lasted even ten minutes.

  "I won't be on the other side of the world forever."

  "I know you won't. It just feels like it sometimes." Her phone buzzed in her pocket, and after she looked at the message, she said, "My other guests will be here in fifteen minutes, so let's do a quick tour, and then I'll come find you once I've got them settled in. Come into the kitchen, and I'll show you what I've done to it."

  She gestured to the tiled countertops, white cupboards, and old-fashioned red oven. "I was able to salvage the cupboards by sanding and repainting them. Most of the tiles were in pretty good shape, thankfully, and I replaced the ones that were too badly cracked with special accent tiles. And the Heartland dual-fuel range is a
classic that I would have never gotten rid of in a million years." She ran her hand over its glossy surface. "It took a while to stop burning everything, but now that I've got her figured out, I can't imagine going back to cooking with a modern stainless-steel oven."

  "Apart from making the best double chocolate chunk cookies in the world, I didn't know you could cook."

  "I couldn't. But evidently, bed-and-breakfast guests expect a well-cooked meal in the morning," she said with a crooked grin. "Fortunately, the Culinary Institute of America is just up the block. I've taken so many classes there in the past few months, I'm on a first-name basis with the entire staff. Like I said, tenacity is my middle name lately." She led him from the kitchen into a dining room, set up with several small, square tables that could be combined into larger ones if necessary. "Here's the breakfast room. It's also where I'm planning on doing afternoon tea for more than just guests a couple of times a week once I've got the rest of this B&B gig down." The windows looked out on the back garden--complete with a swimming pool. "We came in through the parlor." She grinned at him as she added, "Just like today, that's where the cookies will be every afternoon, along with coffee and tea."

  "Good to know." He grabbed another cookie as they headed outside into a riot of color. "Your grandfather must have been a heck of a gardener."

  "He was certainly ambitious. Even after cutting everything back a ton, I ended up having to pull out about half of it. I've been poring over gardening books at night, but when it comes to the outdoors, I'm just faking it until I make it. Turns out I'm way better with a hammer than a trowel."

  "You're a woman of many hidden talents, aren't you?"

  "More like a desperate woman." She picked a lavender stem and held it up to her nose. "I wasn't happy in Silicon Valley anymore, but I didn't want to go back to Rochester either," she admitted in a soft voice. "So when Grandpa left me this house, I pretty much decided I would do whatever it took to make it work."

  "What about Bruce?" Despite the fact that Justin wasn't going to be an idiot again and make another play for her, he still needed to know where things stood between Taylor and her boyfriend. Namely, how close were they to the altar? Even the thought of it made his gut twist. "Is he still in Rochester, or has he moved out here?"