The weeks that followed settled into something neither of them had expected: an easy kind of happiness.
Now that Denisse was no longer working as Lesley's assistant, their days no longer revolved around the same office, the same schedules, or the constant need to be within reach of each other. Denisse had returned her attention to the winery, taking on the work of managing the business.
At first, the distance between the city and the vineyard had felt strange.
Then they learned how to make it work.
Whenever Lesley found herself buried beneath the endless demands of being a CEO and realized she wouldn't make it to the vineyard, she called Denisse. No excuses. No assumptions. Just a simple, I won't make it today, followed by a conversation about when they could see each other instead.
Sometimes Denisse would drive into the city after finishing her work. Other times, Lesley would make the trip to the vineyard, even if it meant squeezing the visit between meetings.
Somehow, they had stopped keeping score.
They talked. They listened. They adjusted.
And slowly, the little misunderstandings that once had the power to pull them apart lost their grip on them.
Eventually, the decision to live together came almost naturally.
The city made the most sense for them, especially for Lesley, whose responsibilities at the company required her presence almost every day. Denisse could manage most of the winery's paperwork from Lesley's house, attend meetings remotely, and drive back to the vineyard whenever her presence was needed. With her parents keeping an eye on the day-to-day operations, she no longer had to be there every hour.
Their lives weren't competing for space.
They were making room for each other.
-
Morning sunlight spilled through the living room windows, painting warm patches across the floor as Lesley slowly made her way downstairs.
She had barely reached the last few steps when something warm and buttery drifted toward her.
French toast.
And eggs.
Lesley paused, breathing in the familiar scent, and felt the corners of her mouth lift.
She followed it into the kitchen.
And stopped.
Denisse stood at the stove with her back to her, wearing Lesley's crisp white long-sleeved polo with the sleeves casually pushed toward her elbows. Her hair was twisted into a messy bun, a few loose strands falling around her face as she moved between the pan and the counter.
Lesley leaned against the doorway for a moment, simply watching.
God.
She could get used to this.
No matter how many mornings they shared, there was something about waking up and finding Denisse here, in their kitchen, looking completely at home, that still caught her off guard.
A quiet smile spread across her face.
Without saying a word, Lesley crossed the kitchen.
She slipped her arms around Denisse's waist from behind and pulled her gently against her.
Denisse startled for half a second before relaxing into her.
Lesley pressed a kiss to her cheek.
"Good morning, beautiful."
Denisse smiled, her hand leaving the spatula long enough to reach back and cup Lesley's cheek.
"Good morning, babe."
Lesley rested her chin on Denisse's shoulder, her arms still comfortably wrapped around her waist. From there, she could see the eggs cooking in the pan and the plate of French toast waiting nearby.
She had absolutely no intention of letting go anytime soon.
"Will you be busy today?" she asked.
Denisse glanced at her. "I don't think so. I just have a Zoom meeting with the supplier at one, then just some paperwork."
She turned her head slightly, giving Lesley a curious look.
"Why?"
"Mom wants us to have dinner at the house tonight." Lesley gave her waist a small squeeze. "She said she's making her specialty."
Denisse's expression immediately softened.
"Yeah, sure. I don't have anything to work on tonight."
Lesley smiled against her shoulder.
"Mom will be happy." She leaned in and kissed her cheek again. "I'll pick you up at six."
"Okay." Denisse turned her attention back to the stove, then added, "I'll bring the blend we just developed."
Lesley lifted her head.
"The new one?"
"Mm-hmm." Denisse stirred the eggs, a small smile playing on her lips. "I want them to try it. I hope they like it."
Lesley leaned closer, her lips brushing Denisse's temple.
"They'll love it, baby."
Denisse glanced back at her.
"You sound very sure."
"I am."
"And what makes you so sure?"
Lesley grinned.
"Because you made it."
Denisse laughed softly, shaking her head as she turned back to the stove.
Lesley tightened her arms around her waist, perfectly content to stay right there while breakfast continued to cook.
Breakfast settled into a sweet, easygoing meal together, filled with stories from work, playful banter, and the small details of their lives.
Afterward, they went their separate ways into their professional worlds, each immersed in the business they had built. They were both thriving—closing deals, making decisions, and proving themselves with every move.
-
Later that evening, just as they had planned, Lesley drove them to her family home.
The moment they stepped through the front door, Denisse caught the unmistakable aroma of something rich and savory drifting from the kitchen. The scent of slow-cooked beef, red wine, herbs, and onions wrapped around her before she had even taken off her coat.
She stopped in the entryway.
"Oh, God," she breathed, closing her eyes for a second as she took another inhale. "That smells so good."
Lesley glanced at her, amused.
"That's Mom's beef bourguignon."
Denisse looked toward the kitchen as though she could somehow see through the walls.
"I can't wait for it."
Lesley laughed softly and reached for her hand.
Before they could make it any farther into the living room, footsteps sounded from the kitchen.
Miriam appeared in the doorway, wiping her hands on a kitchen towel. Her face immediately brightened when she saw them.
"Oh, you two are finally here!"
"Mom."
Lesley barely had time to greet her before Miriam pulled her into a warm embrace and kissed her cheek.
Then Miriam turned to Denisse.
Denisse straightened instinctively.
"Hello, Mrs. Ashford."
Miriam's brows lifted.
"Oh, Mrs. Ashford again?"
Denisse blinked.
Miriam stepped closer, her smile widening as she gently took Denisse's hands.
"I've told you before, dear. Call me Mom."
Denisse opened her mouth, but Miriam wasn't finished.
"Besides, soon enough, you'll be my daughter-in-law."
The words landed so casually that Denisse nearly forgot how to respond.
Her eyes widened.
Beside her, Lesley pressed her lips together, clearly fighting a smile.
Denisse glanced at her, silently pleading for help.
Lesley only raised her eyebrows, enjoying every second of it.
Denisse looked back at Miriam.
"Y-Yes, Mom."
Miriam beamed.
"That's better."
Lesley finally let out a quiet laugh.
"Mom, you really don't waste any time."
"Why should I?" Miriam said, already turning toward the dining room. "Come on. Let's eat while everything's still hot."
They followed her, Denisse still feeling the warmth creeping into her cheeks.
The dining table was already covered with food.
Denisse slowed as she took it all in. There was the beef bourguignon in a large serving dish, its deep brown sauce glistening beneath the dining room lights, surrounded by bowls of vegetables, potatoes, freshly baked bread, and several side dishes.
There was enough food to feed twice the number of people sitting around the table.
Lesley stared at the spread.
"Mom, isn't this a little too much?"
"Nope." Miriam didn't even look up as she adjusted one of the serving dishes. "My two lovely daughters are visiting, so it's only right that I make them plenty of healthy and delicious food."
Denisse smiled at the word daughters.
Lesley, meanwhile, looked ready to argue.
"Mom, we're not—"
A voice came from behind them.
"You're really going to start dinner without me?"
Everyone turned.
Anthony walked into the dining room, adjusting the cuff of his shirt as he approached.
"Oh, we haven't started yet, honey," Miriam said. "I was just about to ask Mrs. Bennett to call you from your study."
Lesley immediately stood and walked toward him.
"Still busy as ever, Dad?"
She wrapped her arms around him, and Anthony returned the embrace with a quiet chuckle.
"Not really. I just had a quick call with your grandfather."
Lesley pulled back.
"About what?"
"Business," he said simply. "Nothing you need to worry about tonight."
His gaze shifted toward Denisse.
She stood from her chair.
"Good evening, sir."
She stepped forward and embraced him warmly.
Anthony smiled as he gave her a gentle pat on the back.
"Hello, Denisse."
He looked at her for a moment, then his smile turned teasing.
"Seems like Lesley is treating you well this time. Look at you. You look even lovelier."
"Dad!"
Lesley immediately groaned, her face flushing.
Anthony laughed.
Miriam joined him, shaking her head as she returned to her seat.
Denisse couldn't help herself. A laugh escaped her, soft and genuine.
"Indeed, sir."
That only made Anthony laugh harder.
Lesley looked between the three of them, utterly betrayed.
"I'm surrounded by traitors."
"Sit down, sweetheart," Miriam said, still smiling. "Before your food gets cold."
With another reluctant laugh, Lesley pulled out Denisse's chair for her before taking the seat beside her.
Soon, plates were being passed around, glasses filled, and the table came alive with conversation.
Denisse took her first bite of the beef bourguignon and closed her eyes.
Miriam noticed immediately.
"Well?"
Denisse swallowed and looked at her with complete sincerity.
"Mom, this is incredible."
Miriam smiled with unmistakable satisfaction.
"I knew you'd like it."
Lesley reached for Denisse's hand beneath the table and gave it a gentle squeeze.
Denisse looked at her.
Lesley was already smiling.
And just like that, dinner settled into the kind of warmth Denisse could easily get used to.
Conversation flowed between bites of beef bourguignon, laughter rising and falling around the table. In the middle of it all sat a bottle of their new wine, the latest addition to the company's collection. Denisse had spent months watching that bottle go from an idea discussed in meetings to something real enough to uncork and pour. Now, seeing it in Lesley's family home felt strangely more satisfying than she had expected.
Lesley's father lifted his glass again, studying the wine for a moment before taking another sip.
"This one is excellent," he said.
Denisse smiled. "I'm glad you like it."
"I do." He raised the bottle slightly. "Very smooth."
Denisse gave a small laugh. "You always did have good taste."
Across the table, Lesley's mother nodded in agreement, already reaching for her glass. Denisse tried not to look too pleased with herself, but Lesley caught the expression anyway. Her knee brushed against Denisse's beneath the table, followed by a quick, playful smile.
Their conversation wandered naturally from work to family stories, some funny enough to have everyone laughing before the punchline was even finished. Denisse found herself listening more than speaking, enjoying the ease of it all. There was something comforting about sitting at Lesley's family table, watching her become softer and more relaxed around the people who had known her long before Denisse came into her life.
Then Miriam suddenly set down her fork.
"Speaking of family, don't forget Leanne's wedding is at the end of this month."
Lesley groaned softly. "Already?"
Miriam laughed. "Yes, already. I've reminded you at least three times."
"That's because you enjoy reminding people, Mom," Lesley said.
"And because none of you listen."
The table broke into laughter again.
Denisse smiled into her wine as the table erupted into overlapping questions about dresses, schedules, and who was bringing what. Lesley groaned beside her, earning another round of laughter.
Denisse took another sip, letting the warmth of the wine settle on her tongue as she watched them. The evening had started with dinner, but somewhere between the stories, the teasing, and the emptying wine bottle, it had begun to feel like she belonged at the table.