Be Mine Forever (A St. Helena Vineyard Novel) by Marina Adair

head. ChiChi plucked Baby Sofie from her slingshot and sat down next to Marc, who leaned over and kissed both grannie and baby.
    “Well, we’re going to march right in to that Garden Society meeting and petition that it be added to the bylaws, aren’t we, amore ?” ChiChi cooed and Baby Sofie squealed. Babies were like little, drooling mood enhancers—only with legs.
    “Not a smart move, Nonna,” Marc said, taking Baby Sofie and standing her on his thighs. He steadied her while her pudgy little legs pushed up and down, like she was revving up to take off. “Since you’d only end up disqualifying yourself.”
    “Why?”
    “You own a vineyard.” When she feigned innocence, Marc added, “Several in fact. All around the world, which would make you an international agricultural professional.”
    ChiChi harrumphed. Then she reached for the newspaper and spread it open on her lap. Silently, she traced a shaky finger over the photo which accompanied her nomination and bio. Trey sat down next to her and— holy hell —his lungs stopped working.
    The photo was of Nonno Geno gracefully dipping ChiChi under the twinkling arbor at the last Winter Garden Gala they attended together. ChiChi wore a sash declaring her Best in Show, and Geno was smiling down at her like she was his entire world. And in the background—Trey had to squint because the page went a little blurry—were his parents.
    Happy.
    In love.
    And so alive.
    ChiChi took his hand and when she spoke, her voice was so fragile it nearly broke his heart. “With your brothers getting married and giving me all these beautiful grandbabies, this is my last year to be the woman of the house, the only woman in all of your lives. Next year, Regan or Lexi or,” she looked at Nate and grimaced. “Well, Regan and Lexi will have gardens of their own to enter in the contest, prized pansies that their husbands gave them . And I can’t square off against my granddaughters and steal their chances of winning. It wouldn’t be right.”
    ChiChi took out a cloth napkin and dabbed her eyes. Trey was already mentally picking out dance shoes. “Thanks to Deidra, I can’t get those flowers back. I don’t even know if I can win. But I’d like to dance, like in this picture, just once more. And you look and move so much like your grandfather, it melts my heart. Please give this old lady one last spin around the dance floor.”
    Trey pulled her close and breathed her in. She felt so small in his arms and smelled like his childhood. Even though coming home was painful, there was nothing in the world more important to him than his family.
    He’d missed this same dance with his mother. If he stood up ChiChi, he didn’t think he could forgive himself a second time, not that he’d ever forgiven himself the first time. And if this was to be her last Winter Garden Gala as a nominee, then he was going to give her the best damn waltz of her life.

CHAPTER 5
    W ednesday night, Sara was still trying to wring the rain out of her hair when the bell on the studio’s front door jingled. She looked into the dance mirrors and watched three of her favorite senior dancers enter. Decked out in their best USO costumes for the Tuesday night Swinging Singles Social, the self-titled Foxy Ladies—ChiChi, Lucinda, and Pricilla—made their way across the dance floor.
    “Thanks for introducing me to Brooke,” Sara said, kicking off her rain boots and grabbing her dance shoes before coming out from behind the counter. “When Heather called to say she’d miss class tonight, I didn’t know what to do with Cooper.”
    Heather’s audition had gone so well that the choreographer and director wanted her to meet the male lead, which meant one more night in San Francisco.
    “My pleasure,” Pricilla Moreau said as all three ladies sat down on the bench to swap out their shoes. “Brooke’s a sweet girl. Reliable too. Works Saturdays at the bakery helping run the cash register and doing odd