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.