Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Three

Natalie would say this for August.

He was making a very convincing case for staying in Napa.

She’d lost count of how many times they’d made love last night—the only marathon she’d ever participate in. They’d collapsed into bed after returning from the water rescue that afternoon, their naked skin pressed together head to toe, limbs intwined like they’d never let go. Hours later, she’d woken up aching for him. Aching. So badly that tears had escaped her eyes while she rode him, his fingers buried and twisting in her hair, his hips slamming upward while they feasted on each other’s mouths.

The rest of the night and subsequent morning—a lot of which had been spent together in the shower—were a blur. But this wasn’t. He was back in the barn without her, and it hurt more and more every time. And maybe it shouldn’t. He’d hesitated in the doorway a few hours ago, doubling back and suggesting she help with the administrative side of Zelnick Cellar, like Corinne had suggested . . . but it felt a little like being placated. Or distracted.

So much of August’s heart was made up of honor, but it was all tangled with Sam’s memory. The way he toiled over the wine on his friend’s behalf. The labor was his heart. But locking her out of the process meant he was still guarded. Not letting her in the whole way. And she was truly done settling for half measures when it came to love. That was what she’d gotten from her family, her friends, her colleagues, and Morrison.

It was all or nothing now. With August.

Maybe this was another definitive sign that she loved him.

Full trust was all she could accept.

She needed to focus on the positive—they both continued to evolve within the relationship.

He’d stuck around without storming off during their most recent fight. He’d made vows. Beautiful ones. Built her up in front of her family. Made her feel safe and cherished. Made her laugh. Told her he needed her.

That he was her man.

Did that mean she could simply call Claudia and shut down their concept in its tracks? Her last remaining New York friend had been loyal enough to promise to leave her job and come on board with Natalie. She’d done a ton of leg work over the last month, filing paperwork to register them as a business, making endless calls to find willing investors.

Now it was Thursday morning, one day before the scheduled meeting with potential investor William Banes Savage. This could be liftoff for them. The payoff.

Was she really ready to scrap their blood, sweat, and tears . . .

Not to mention the comeback she’d been dreaming about for months?

Her eyes strayed to the locked door of the barn, an impossible-to-miss dagger twisting in her breastbone. Was he making progress in there? Could she help in a roundabout way—and distract herself from life-altering decisions in the process? Yes. She’d call the bank and set up his loan meeting with Ingram Meyer. That wouldn’t step on August’s toes, would it?

Then she would call Claudia. Let her know that the plan to return permanently to New York was slightly less firm now. That way, if by some miracle she decided to stay, Claudia wouldn’t be blindsided. They would have time to make sure her livelihood was protected.

Secure in her plan, Natalie picked up the phone and called the bank.

A moment later, Ingram’s familiar voice filled her ear. “Mrs. Cates—I had a feeling I would be hearing from you. I assume you noticed the new zeroes in your account. Unless there is some kind of delay, the money should be there by now.”

Zeroes.

Account.

Her trust fund. She’d actually forgotten to check if it had been transferred.

If that didn’t tell Natalie her heart was here with August, nothing would.

* * *

August watched Natalie approach from the house and everything in his head went momentarily silent. Kind of like dropping from a helo into pitch-black water, everything just cut out except for the sound of his heart. Boom boom boom. If he got lucky enough to watch his bride walk toward him on a regular basis for the next sixty years, he’d . . . die a happy man?

No, not quite.

As long as she was breathing, he’d be negotiating for more time with the man upstairs.

Surely God would understand. Natalie was his finest masterpiece.

You won’t persuade her to stay with sex.

What was the key ingredient? What was he failing to give her? The answer seemed just within his reach, but the elusive thing always slipped away before he could define it.

She distracted him from his troubled thoughts with a smile. “Great news. I got us an appointment tomorrow morning to meet with Ingram about the loan for Zelnick. Eight thirty. He’s going to sneak us in before business hours, since he has meetings for the rest of the day.”

And August’s stomach hit the dirt.

Right.

He still hadn’t told her about the investment from his CO.

That he didn’t need capital from the bank at all.

From the beginning, this had been about Natalie getting what she needed. Would she believe that, though, after so many men in her life had used money to control her? August wanted to trust that Natalie knew better than to think that about him. That he was different. But right now, when he’d just gotten her to consider staying in Napa, was not the time to spring a falsehood on her. Anything that might cause her to make the East Coast her final decision. They’d made a deal—and he’d been lying by omission the whole time.

If she left now, when they were so close to finding common ground, he’d fucking break.

So what did he do here?

If they went to the meeting, Ingram would take a look at his bank account and question why he needed funds when his numbers were already healthy, thanks to his CO. And if he didn’t go to the meeting, Natalie would question him.

Come on, universe.

He just needed a little longer to make sure she was his—permanently.

* * *

August had a habit of asking Sam for advice when he had no idea what to do. So that was where he went in the wee hours of the morning. He left the most incredible woman on the planet sleeping naked in his bed—painful, by the way—and he made the drive to the cemetery, making sure to leave enough time to get back for the bank appointment.

If he went through with it and didn’t end up calling Natalie to cancel. Maybe it was wise to tell her the truth in front of witnesses.

The sun was just beginning to peek over the horizon when August sat down exactly five feet and nine inches from Sam’s headstone, not wanting to sit on his friend. He wasted no time burying his head in his hands and blurting out everything that had taken place since the morning of the wedding. “If I had one wish, it would be for you to meet her, man. She is such a badass.” Christ, he was welling up. “It feels like . . . one misstep and I’m going to lose her. I hope it doesn’t feel this risky forever, but even if it did, I would stick like glue. She’s worth walking through an endless field of landmines.” He blew out a breath. “Tell me what to do about this bank meeting, man.”

Usually, he could conjure Sam’s voice out of thin air. Imagine what his friend would say. But this time, his imagination didn’t comply. The sound of his friend’s voice was growing more and more faint; he couldn’t get the tone right, had no idea what advice Sam would give him—and the lack of reassurance and fogginess of Sam’s memory was too much on top of everything else.

He lay back in the grass and closed his eyes, taking deep breaths so his emotions wouldn’t run away with him. Not when he needed to be present this morning, because establishing his marriage to Natalie was his sole focus.

But when he closed his eyes, the stress of indecision caught up with him.

And he fell asleep dreaming of Natalie’s smile.

* * *

8:52.

No August.

Natalie looked down at the screen of her phone, willing him to return her calls. Or one of the numerous texts she’d sent. They were late for the loan meeting with Ingram and honestly, they might as well not even bother going inside now. Ingram had only a thirty-minute window to spare and much of that was gone now.

This wasn’t like him.

Then again . . . maybe it was?

They’d been married for only six days. Maybe it was totally within his character to leave before she woke up without any prior warning. And not just to push his tire—but to leave. Off the property. She’d gone looking for him around the house and in both barns, the unsettled feeling in her stomach yawning wider by the moment. Was something wrong? Did he have an emergency? Why didn’t he wake her up to help?

Then she’d finally found the note, attached to her favorite coffee mug.

Went to see Sam.

Until that moment, she’d never speculated on when August might bring her to see Sam. Or if he ever would. But as close as they’d been yesterday and last night, the way she’d been so vulnerable with him, August going to the cemetery alone felt a little like being shut out. Again. Perhaps it wasn’t a rational reaction, but tell that to her heart while it sank like a setting sun. August had a whole private part of his life, his grief, and he guarded it like a lion.

It was a part of him she’d never touch. She just had to accept that.

She’d just given herself to this man, not only in name now, but emotionally.

Less than a day later, she felt as if he’d dropped her without a safety net.

Reluctantly, she started her car and pulled out of the parking space in front of the bank. She didn’t feel like going home, though. To August’s house. It was too quiet without him there and she was looking for some reassurance, not more questions.

To be fair, she should have known that the Vos estate was the last place she should go. Maybe she was a masochist or maybe she had a tiny bit of hope that her relationship with Corinne was getting stronger. She’d surprised her mother with her research on VineWatch, right? Plus, if she and Corinne could relate to each other about anything, it was a man disappointing them. So home she went, with a frisson of hope in her chest.

It was doused the moment she pulled into the circular driveway and she saw two hybrids parked outside. The VineWatch logo was silk-screened onto their windows. Two men and one woman in khakis and navy blue polo shirts had just alighted from the vehicles. And Julian and Corinne were approaching them to shake hands.

She’d obviously just crashed their meeting.

A meeting they were having without her. As if she should be surprised.

Yet, she was? Obviously, she still had the capacity to be hurt by her family, because her stomach turned completely around and all she could do was stare.

Julian must have caught sight of her, because he was suddenly standing beside the driver’s-side window, signaling for her to roll it down.

If that didn’t sum up how she felt about everything, this entire day, maybe her entire life at this very moment in time, nothing did.

Julian straightened his tie, openly befuddled. “I see. She didn’t want to interrupt your first week as a married couple with business. For the record, I knew you’d want to be here—”

What am I doing in this stupid town?

Nothing had changed. She would always be the odd one out. In her family. In her marriage. New York was the only place she’d ever been a consideration to others. It was the only place her input had ever been valued.

Not here.

Never here.

They wouldn’t even miss her.

Thank God she’d never called Claudia to cancel the meeting with William Banes Savage.

As soon as Natalie walked through the door of August’s house, she opened her laptop and swapped her midafternoon flight for the next possible plane to New York. Feeling in control for the first time in months, she sent the boarding pass to her phone and tucked the laptop into her purse. One hour until she needed to leave for the airport and August still wasn’t home. Was he having a hard time with the visit to Sam?

Not my problem. He’s made that clear.

Pain carved a slice out of her chest, calling her a liar. She had to pause in the act of packing her small carry-on bag in order to breathe. It seemed that shutting herself off from August wasn’t going to be an easy process. Not like it had been before, with her ex. With every ex, really. If recovering from breakups was an Olympic sport, she would have medaled in all events. Vaulting over the truth. Sprinting away from accountability.

She wouldn’t win gold so easily in the August relay race.

Her chest was a dumpster fire. And leaving for the airport without saying goodbye wasn’t going to give her the vindication she wanted. The way she kept staring at the front door of the house, hoping he would walk through it, made that obvious.

The barn caught her eye through the window. Off-limits. She wasn’t allowed to go in there and mess with his fermentation process.

Well, too bad.

Natalie shoved her feet into some flats and stomped out of the bedroom, stepping over the sprawled cat on her way to the front door. She yanked it open, hating the way hope that August’s truck would be parked outside rose in her chest. It was not. There was nothing but an empty slab of concrete decorated with oil stains.

With her heart in her mouth, she paraded into the barn. She was surprised to find that the farther she ventured into August’s off-limits workshop, the more the bowstrings inside her chest loosened. Sure, she didn’t have his express consent to be in there, among his things, but she’d never consented to him making her fall in love with him, only to be compartmentalized. Kept at a distance. Close but not too close, the way her family kept her.

August wasn’t supposed to do that to her, too.

Natalie realized she was staring across the rows of oak barrels through a veil of tears. Her nose was on fire and those flames followed a trail of kerosine to the dead center of her chest, lighting up that sad, suffering organ and turning it to ashes. Partially.

Some part of it must have remained beating, because she swiped at her nose and pulled out the stopper from the first barrel, immediately recognizing the need for filtration.

Nobody wanted her help, especially August.

Well, that was too damn bad, wasn’t it?

* * *

I fell asleep. How could I fall asleep with her waiting for me?

How could I do that?

When August pulled into his usual spot outside the house, his stomach was already a bubbling cauldron of acid. Because she wouldn’t answer his calls, they went straight to voice mail and now, her blue hatchback was gone. Natalie’s car. Was gone.

He dove out of the truck and without missing a beat, started shouting, “Natalie.”

She wasn’t inside the house. He knew it, because if she was anywhere in the vicinity, he would feel that welcome presence. Despite that intuition, he almost kicked down the door of the house, because his fingers wouldn’t work well enough to unlock it, shouting her name the whole time.

When he got inside, it was dead silent. Menace sat perched on the edge of a dining room chair, her expression nothing short of a narrow-eyed accusation. Panic rising, he took out his phone and called Natalie, cursing a blue streak when it went to voice mail again. Maybe she’d just gone to Vos Vineyard? Maybe she’d been pissed off at him enough to move some of her things back to the guest house? Because, yeah. His wife was not in the bedrooms or the bathroom and her fucking toothbrush was gone‚ a fact that made his windpipe shrink to the size of a pinhole.

Julian would know if she’d gone to the guest house.

He’d call Julian.

August didn’t notice his hand was shaking until he hit the number for Natalie’s brother. “Yes?” answered the professor on the second ring.

Julian remained silent a little too long.

August was frozen in the middle of the kitchen floor. “Why wouldn’t you invite Natalie to a meeting with VineWatch? She knows that company inside and out. Better than both of you put together.”

How was he still breathing with a fifty-ton anvil sitting on his chest. “So . . .” His swallow got stuck. “So you’re telling me I missed the appointment at the bank. And then she showed up at Vos and found out you were having a meeting without her.”

My wife.

My wife.

We crushed her. I crushed her.

August was back outside now and the chill of panic had taken firm hold of his jugular and both lungs. Barn. She wouldn’t be in the barn, but he had to look anyway.

He’d asked her not to go in there. Now he was desperate to find her inside.

Funny how fast things could change.

No. It wasn’t funny at all. He’d asked her to keep out of this place where he performed the ritual of winemaking in honor of his friend. He’d refused to involve her, just like her family. Pushed her away where it counted, while expecting her to come closer physically and emotionally. All the while . . .

He’d been the one putting up the barrier.

Jesus. No. In the middle of the barn, August’s legs weakened. He dragged his hand down his face and viewed the barn and all of his equipment through raw, gritty eyes.

No wonder my wine sucks. It needed her. I needed her.

He was no better than her family. She’d tried so hard to get in, to be important to them, until eventually she gave up. He’d been so outraged on her behalf. Who could keep their distance from someone so incredible and smart and dynamic and lively . . . ?

Meanwhile he’d done the exact same thing.

He’d rejected her help. He’d rejected her. Denied them a chance to be closer because he insisted on feeling his way alone in the dark. He was like a man who refused to pull over and ask for directions, but a hundred times worse, because being valued, considered . . . it meant so much to his Natalie. He was supposed to be her safe place, but he’d been hurting her all along.

Now she was gone.

Somehow August knew something had changed before he even reached the row of barrels—and after pulling out a few stoppers, the difference was obvious. The wine had lost a lot of its cloudiness. Was less sluggish. And the taste wasn’t a 100 percent improvement—not so soon—but by God, it was a hell of a lot better.

She could have been helping all along. And his stupid pride had kept her locked out.

August wailed something unintelligible.

That’s exactly what it would be. Sparing his life. He could already feel the will to live deserting him slowly. “I’m in love with your sister. I love her so much.”

August dropped the device and buried his head in his hands. “Goddammit.”

She’d gone to New York. Three thousand miles out of his reach.

Then you better get your ass to the airport, roared Sam’s voice, back and louder than ever. They probably don’t have any extra legroom seats left, but you’ll survive.

If August could have plucked those words out of the ether and crushed them to his chest, he never would have let go. Of course Sam had gone silent. August’s conscience had probably been blocking those mental echoes from coming through.

Come on, August, you can make this right. I believe in you.

That final dose of confidence from his best friend was exactly what he needed to sprint toward the house. If his wife was on the opposite coast, that was where he needed to be, too.

Chapter Twenty-Four

There was a low buzz in the back of Natalie’s head.

It had been there since she’d landed in New York. It was still there when she checked into the hotel, just off Park Avenue, and it was growing louder now as the potential investor spoke to her from across the polished table, talking about his recent trip to Mykonos. That was how these meetings worked. They didn’t talk about money or investment strategies, it was all social chitchat until the last five minutes. Up until that point, every tick of the clock was spent determining whether she had reached a high enough social standard to even associate with.

In the not-so-distant past, she didn’t even have to take meetings. Her portfolio did the talking. But that approach didn’t work anymore. Her company might have asked her to step down quietly, but after an extended absence and without a successful firm to back her up, her stock as a financier had dropped significantly.

Based on her research, he was from Florida, but fine. Hate on people just trying to have a stinking vacation.

Fat chance. He was too stubborn.

And it was really, wildly ridiculous to miss him so much that her body was sore.

Did they really sleep together for the first time this week?

It felt like they’d been making love for a century.

My God, this whole night was getting away from her. She’d flown three thousand miles to secure a chunk of this man’s money. Claudia had busted her behind to pin him down for Natalie. Now that she finally had the chance, she was blowing it?

Natalie mentally shook herself and leaned forward. “Before we do that, Mr. Savage—and tonight is on me, of course—I would love to talk to you about the new venture—”

It took a physical effort not to openly gag at his phrasing. “I understand your hesitation completely, of course. I’ve been out of the game for a while, but that’s an advantage, not a drawback. I’m coming in with a fresh perspective. You’re going to get more than the same stale plays from me. Sure, my firm is the epitome of young, but you have a reputation as a maverick. You take gambles, as well. Early on in your career, you invested in microprocessors before that kind of tech became a standard addition to every portfolio.”

He smirked. “My gamble paid off.”

Those four words made one thing painfully obvious. Savage knew she’d been fired. Of course he did. News like that didn’t stay quiet in the financial sector, especially when she’d been such a visible force prior to disappearing. Tonight was the first time she’d looked anyone from the finance world in the face and had her demise addressed. It was a lot easier than she’d imagined it would be. Almost like the sting was gone. Being revered by power players was no longer the most important thing in her life. What was?

Or more specifically . . . who?

Natalie breathed through a wave of loneliness.

Oh God, why hadn’t she chosen a different restaurant?

This was a typical haunt for analysts. She recognized several faces at the bar.

Natalie turned back around, praying her face wasn’t fuchsia. Keep talking. “To these men, safe equals stagnant. It makes them begin to wonder if there is a cash flow. Or nothing but dusty stacks languishing somewhere, waiting to be inherited. Is investing with me a gamble? Yes. But it’s also a signal to the sharks that you’ve got more than enough money. Money to set on fucking fire, if you want to. Maybe that’s the equivalent to investing with me. Ringing a bell that says, ‘I take risks, I know something you don’t know’? It opens more doors. It puts your name in someone’s mouth when they’re considering who to bring in on the investment of the century. It makes you fresh.”

Natalie sat back in her chair.

Familiar faces at the bar were staring. She could feel heat on her back. They were slowly noticing she was in the same establishment as her ex and his future wife. They were hoping to see fireworks. More than likely, they also knew she was there to court this man’s influence and were hoping to get a hint at the outcome. Sharks, indeed.

Had her spiel worked? It was difficult to tell. Savage no longer had his smirk, but he looked more irritable than inspired by her speech. He was wiping a corner of his mouth over and over again, unnecessarily, while considering Natalie closely. “I need a little more time to consider it,” he said finally, throwing down the napkin.

Okay. That was more promising than an outright hell no.

Where was the sense of victory? Or even hope?

Totally absent, that’s where.

She’d given the pitch her best effort. For herself. For Claudia.

Might as well admit it, though. She’d been hoping he’d say no.

Obviously, he’d seen her ex arrive. This was either a test of her mettle or he just wanted to pay Natalie back for pointing out his lack of risk taking at dinner. “If I made a habit of avoiding uncomfortable situations, I wouldn’t be here right now at all.”

He inclined his head, as if to say, Prove it.

It was worse than she’d expected. Every eye in the place was fastened on her. She’d rubbed elbows with most of these analysts and portfolio managers over the years at this very place, smiling while they gloated over their client list. Attended a couple of their weddings, even. Now she was nothing but tomorrow’s gossip at the office.

Making eye contact with Morrison was inevitable and everyone was watching to see how it would happen. No matter how she handled this, they would embellish the story or recast her as scorned and jealous. But in this moment, the only person who mattered was the investor she was trying to woo. Although, God, being tested by this dude was getting exhausting. She was beginning to lose sight of why it mattered.

She also just really, really wanted to go home to August.

Swallowing the fistful of tacks in her throat, Natalie followed William the remaining distance to the bar and let her gaze drift across to where Morrison was sitting with his fiancée. Giving them a wave and smile wasn’t nearly as hard as she expected. Actually, it felt kind of good. Like closure. But that didn’t stop everyone around her from whispering. Snickering in their single malt scotch. Having yet another laugh at her expense—

The thought died in its inception when someone else walked into the bar.

August.

August?

No, her eyes had to be playing tricks on her.

How . . . ?

It . . . was really him. There was no mistaking the giant ex-SEAL for anyone else. His wide shoulders had been wrestled into a navy blue suit jacket, his hair brushed back and semi-damp, his face clean-shaven. He sucked all the unwanted attention away from Natalie like an extra-large vacuum. Men who’d been hunkered over the bar stood up straighter now, as if commanded, trying to compete with August’s height and swagger.

Dear God, the swagger.

He walked in like everyone owed him a hundred bucks, but he was too lazy to collect.

Where had he found a tailor who could craft a suit big enough to fit three normal-sized men? And there was no use pretending it didn’t make him look like sex on two thick, tireflipping legs. Head to toe, her flesh flushed and turned tight.

I’m flustered. I’m actually flustered by my husband.

Probably because the last time she’d seen him, he’d been feeding her orgasms like candy. Just popping them into her mouth like Mentos.

More, please, sir.

Wait.

Natalie shook herself. What was he doing here?

Time slowed considerably when she met August’s eyes. He’d rounded the corner of the bar, striding in that overly cocky way right in her direction, and now she was actually jealous for the first time that night. Because that suit clung to his powerful body the way she wanted to—wrapped around every inch of him, tied in a knot and worn out.

When August was a few feet away, however, something else rippled through the lust.

Joy.

Flat-out joy to see him.

That she wouldn’t have to wait to be back in St. Helena. He was here.

He should have been here all along. They should have been together.

That was what the buzzing in her head had been trying to tell her.

Natalie held her breath as her husband came to a stop right in front of her. The loud conversation in the bar area had died down to a hum. Or maybe the waves crashing in Natalie’s head were drowning out the sound? And they crashed even louder when August leaned down and kissed her cheek, his hand landing possessively on her hip. Squeezing in silent communication. I missed you. Or was she projecting?

Blood rushed to her ears and started pounding. Movements around them seemed to be happening in a dream, all grainy and distant. The inch between them shrank until it no longer existed, the fronts of their bodies meeting, pressing, the rate of her heartbeat tripling. “I would have been home tomorrow.”

If she didn’t armor herself immediately, she was going down. RIP Natalie. “I’m still angry at you for missing the meeting. For—”

Denial hit her like a truck. Oh . . . no. She’d left him to deal with that alone?

In her periphery, she saw his eye crinkle at the corner, lips twitching. “Even better than my wedding tux?”

She sucked down another breath of grapefruit, then pushed him away slightly. On second thought, she tugged him a tiny bit closer.

I’m losing my mind.

August took hold of her indecisive wrists without a word and dropped his mouth to the space right above her ear, rumbling, “Babe.”

It was the equivalent of putting a pin in a balloon. She just unloaded. “I don’t think I’m going to get the investment and . . . instead of business, it just feels like another man using money to make me dance, you know?” She watched the lump move up and down in August’s throat. “Everyone is staring at me. They think I’m a joke. And Morrison just arrived out of the blue with his future wife, sitting at the bar, making me the live entertainment for the evening.”

August stiffened at the mention of her ex. “How do you feel about seeing him?”

He’d made himself vulnerable by giving her the truth when he walked in. She couldn’t do anything but return the favor now. “I don’t feel a thing.”

His chest shuddered up and down, tension ebbing from his burly frame. “And when I walked in?”

A gruff sound left him, throat muscles shifting in a pattern.

He opened his mouth to say something, but they were interrupted by Savage.

August nodded. “Nice to meet you, too.”

Savage studied her husband. “Are you some kind of athlete or something?” he asked, rolling a shoulder.

Her husband looked down at her. “I’m sure you’ve heard plenty of them tonight from Natalie already, though, right? I don’t know a lot about the financial world, but a woman on Wall Street would have to fight harder than anyone, I imagine.”

Savage laughed. “Harder than a SEAL? I’m not sure about that.”

August’s eyes seemed to darken a shade. “It’s a different kind of fighting. And she has fought her way back here with almost no support. No one encouraging her to do it. God only knows where her inner strength comes from, but I’ll tell you something, it’s more than I’ve got. It’s enough to keep putting herself out there with no reward and I feel sorry for anyone who doesn’t take someone with that much bravery seriously.”

It took everything inside of Natalie not to burst into tears. He was right. She’d been kicking ass and clawing her way back and that effort had gone unacknowledged. By anyone. And she wasn’t the only woman who went about her daily grind only for people to expect more, so she liked to think all of womankind celebrated with her in that moment. When her husband finally got it. When he finally saw her.

The investor had gone from jocular to thoughtful during August’s speech. He turned his attention to her now. “If I trust you with my money, what’s your first play?”

Natalie took a deep breath and let it rip. “Obviously we’re going with a classic long/short equity strategy. We make the smart investments that put us ahead and give us room to play and then we short technologies, pharma, oil based on bold predictions and market trends. And I’m not just talking about the United States. We’re going to monitor markets and how consumers respond in every geographical location on the face of the earth, taking everything down to the fucking weather patterns into account. If your money isn’t tripled in the first quarter, I’ll give you back every cent of your initial investment.”

A muscle hopped in Savage’s cheek. August’s pride was evident in every line of his body, but she couldn’t risk looking at him or she’d lose her cool.

Natalie shook her head to hide the creeping amusement, breezing past her husband and beginning the journey toward the exit. “Only you would make the romantic gesture of flying across the country and ruin it with ball talk in, like, eight seconds.”

August followed so close behind her, she could feel his body heat through the clingy material of her dress. “Eight seconds is a lifetime when a man has no testicular circulation.”

He grunted.

They were passing by Natalie’s ex and his fiancée. Both of them sipped their drinks and looked coolly at Natalie and August as they passed. Or maybe they were just wary? If she recalled correctly, she and her partner’s daughter had gotten along great at company functions. The situation itself was simply awkward. Just not for Natalie. For some reason, she felt totally comfortable stopping beside the couple, laying a hand on both of their backs, and saying a heartfelt congratulations. She’d never really loved Morrison, so what was the sense in begrudging the fact that he’d found love elsewhere?

Her ex smiled at his intended. She smiled back. Simultaneously, they thanked Natalie.

Then she took August’s hand and after a little tugging—August clearly wanted to say something to her ex—they continued toward the elevator that would bring them down to street level. “What were you going to say to him?” she asked as they stepped inside, the gold doors snapping together in front of them.

He grinned over at her. “Your turn.”

Natalie let her head tip back. Gone was the stiffness that had been building since she boarded her flight. Fun. She was having fun. Did she always have fun with this man, even when they were arguing? “Wall Street. And Bridesmaids.”

Without warning, August backed her up against the wall of the elevator, his mouth stopping just a whisper above hers. “You know I’m trying to follow your lead and be mature, but I actually wanted to punch your ex in the face, right?”

Deep down, she had. She’d known that like she knew her own name. “Yes,” she breathed.

Her brain said, Sex. Sex right here and right now.

Unfortunately, the elevator doors opened to reveal a dozen people staring back.

With a muttered curse, August took her hand and led her through the throng of people, toward the street. “Where are you staying?” he asked, guiding her through the glass door of the building and out onto the sidewalk. It was a Friday night in a part of town where not a ton of bars were located anyway, so most of the pedestrians were working stiffs who’d stayed late at the office. But traffic roared by at its usual breakneck pace, horns bleeping expletives, music drifting out of car windows, passersby holding conversations on their phones.

Natalie battled the disappointment. “You . . . booked a room?”

He brought her hands to his mouth and kissed her knuckles, leaving her heart fluttering wildly in her throat. Over his touch. His words. The perceptiveness of them.

She’d underestimated him yet again, hadn’t she?

Being apart? He assumed her decision had been made to leave Napa. Permanently.

On the plane ride here, that was where her compass had been pointing. New York.

For good.

Now she wasn’t so sure. How could she remove herself from this man’s life when he’d walked in tonight and stitched her back together just by existing? She was deeply in love with August Cates and somewhere along the way, that started meaning more to her than a comeback.

A lot more.

Her indecision was causing him to suffer, so she needed to make a choice. Now. Tonight.

And when she looked up at this man, there really was no decision to make at all, was there?

Chapter Twenty-Five

So this is love.

A painful motherfucker.

That old saying, If you love somebody, let them go, actually had real-life applications and it was galling and horrible, to say the least. But Jesus, what he’d said was the truth. She fit into that bar full of millionaires tonight like sugar in coffee. A much-needed dose of sweet among the bitterness. Gorgeous and ready to take on the world—it was right there on her face.

He’d felt like a jackass walking in there, stuffed into his suit. Palms sweating.

The truth of why he’d come wouldn’t stay out of his mouth. Hell, telling Natalie how he felt about her was becoming this thing he needed to do to breathe. But taking her to bed knowing she would come back to this city one day soon and stay? Might as well perform open heart surgery on him without the painkillers.

Those fancy hotel elevators would take them upstairs. To a room with a really nice bed and, yeah, that business formal dress she was wearing would come off so easily. Just slide right down to the floor. He’d get on his knees and eat her out until her head spun. She wouldn’t be nearly as polished when he finished with her.

August sighed, resisting the urge to adjust his erection. “I doubt that.”

She blinked innocently. “You’re not thinking of going down on me?”

Now it was August’s turn to blink. And he did. About ninety-six times. “Did you not hear a word I said before? About protecting myself?”

That sounded like a pretty damn good reason to go upstairs, now didn’t it?

August gnashed his molars together and tried to smile at the same time.

Everything hurt. His heart, brain, and dick were a trifecta of misery.

Because, God, she was beautiful. The whole lobby had to be staring at his wife. If he could tear his eyes off her for a second, he might be able to confirm. He’d have flown back and forth between coasts for the rest of his life, just to be standing there to hear her voice. He also knew a long-distance relationship between them would never work, because he’d resent every second away from her and he still had a responsibility to Sam. And now to his CO.

The reminder of his commanding officer forced him to recall what Natalie had said back in the bar. I don’t think I’m going to get the investment and . . . instead of business, it just feels like another man using money to make me dance, you know?

He’d come to New York to lay his faults at her feet, but he couldn’t bring himself to tell her he’d kept a two-hundred-thousand-dollar investment a secret. She was already most likely leaving him, did he really have to make her hate him, too? Put him in a category with her father, the investor, and the ex-fiancé? His heart wouldn’t withstand the blow.

What was going on in her head right now? A groove had formed between her eyebrows and she appeared to be trapped between a rock and a hard place. Was this it? Was she going to end things right here and now?

Don’t think of their wedding night.

Don’t—

Too late.

He’d think of her mouth that night in his final moments on earth.

Right now, however, he needed to make it through a few more minutes. After which he would take a cab back to his hotel and get to his room as fast as possible. Then he would pull up those pictures that he’d added to his camera roll from social media and stroke one out to Natalie in her wedding dress. If that wasn’t a sign that he’d grown obsessed with this woman, nothing was. He actually got off remembering the moment she’d vowed in public to be his wife. That couldn’t be normal.

Natalie gripped the meatiest part of his arms and shook him. “August. I know. I know you can’t walk me to my room without coming inside.” She slid her palms up, along his shoulders and higher, cradling his face. It felt so incredible, he had to stifle a moan. “You don’t have to protect yourself. That’s what I’m trying to tell you. I’m coming home with you. To St. Helena. I’m staying there. With you. Because of you.”

What?

August’s lungs were suddenly empty, the lobby sounds dulling to a whisper around him.

Had someone slipped him an Ambien on the plane and he was dreaming this whole scenario, because he could have sworn Natalie just said she was coming home with him.

His entire body was one big pulse and he could barely gather his thoughts over the booming noise it made. “I don’t understand. You’re coming back to stay, even though I’ve been a jackass? Even though you have the trust fund? And the investor?”

He doubled over, bracing his hands on his knees, doubt finally giving way to joy, which spread through him like wildfire. “You better not be pranking me.”

They took a giant step toward each other at the same time, Natalie tucking her small, elegant hand into his larger one. Their fingers threaded together and held.

Christ, what a privilege. This was happening. It was actually happening.

The elevator ride to Natalie’s floor was a blur. He couldn’t even scramble enough brain power to kiss her, because it was all occupied with relief and shock and happiness. So much happiness. Doors opened, feet moved along a carpeted hallway, and with her room in sight, their official reunion imminent, his brain finally, blessedly came back online. Mostly.

When had he backed her up against the door? Their mouths were a breath away from touching, her tits flattened against his chest. He was burning alive with the need to give her an orgasm. Hearing her demands, feeling those fingers twist in his hair, her pussy clamping down—

If a hotel guest happened by at that moment, they would have assumed Natalie was being mugged, he reached for her bag so fast. “Key, princess. Key.”

A desperate sound bubbled out of her, both of them fumbling to get the clasp open on her purse and locate the card. He slapped it up against the sensor, groaning when the light turned green, and walked her into the room, kicking the door shut behind them. As horny as August was, spurred on by her request for wall sex, he expected to be the aggressor.

He was wrong.

Natalie shoved the jacket off his shoulders and started to unknot his tie, abandoning the task halfway through to work on his belt, leaving the tie sagging around his neck. Spoiler: nothing else was sagging. A fact Natalie discovered a few seconds later when she unzipped his fly and stuck her hand inside, molding it around August’s cock.

He pressed her up against the wall, dragged her mouth into a frantic kiss. I’m kissing my woman. Thank God. “What?” he said, breaking for air. “You need me to know what?”

Her eyes were glassy, dazed. Needy. “You have the best dick,” she whispered. “I mean, I-I was thinking about it on the plane. During a business dinner. If you mass produced a mold of this thing, a lot of people would be less angry.”

He tugged her panties down, over her knees, letting them fall to her ankles.

She looked vulnerable after the admission, so he made his own, something inside him demanding he match her step for step. Emotionally, physically. At all times. “I was preparing myself to live off memories of you for the rest of my life. It was going to kill me.” He knelt down in front of her, drawing her right knee up and settling the arch of her foot on his shoulder. “Can’t believe I get to live off you, instead. Can’t believe you’re letting me live.”

The tenderness in her eyes undid him to the point of dizziness. “There’s no letting here. You’re the best decision I’ve ever made.”

A gruff sound left August, his desperation to be joined with this woman growing to the point of pain. He wanted to lock himself to her emotionally, physically. Any manner available. She was his wife and she’d soaked herself in anticipation of his mouth, his cock. The sense of responsibility to deliver, to give her pleasure and heal both of their wounds, had August surging forward and kissing her mound. Traveling lower. Pushing apart her flesh gently with his tongue and finding that bud, greeting it carefully, then with more vigor as her moans increased in volume and her fingers ripped at the strands of his hair. “August.”

He trailed the fingertips of his right hand up her left inner thigh, leaving a trail of goose bumps behind. While she was struggling to breathe, he traced the seam of her pussy with his middle finger, then tucked it deep, all while flicking his tongue against her clit. And she just sort of melted back against the wall, her flesh clamping around his knuckle, begging for a second finger. So he gave it to her in one possessive shove, then kept his digits pumping in and out of her while he stood, taking her mouth from above in a starved kiss.

Victory and elation and a million other emotions rocked August.

My wife. My wife.

He punched his hips upward and sank deep, groaning into the wall beside her head while she whimpered through her first orgasm. “Left you primed for that one, didn’t I? You love the way I tongue fuck it.”

Natalie speared her fingers into his hair and brought him in for a wild, almost animalistic kiss, eager little sounds coming from her throat. She was close, so close—and then her trembles turned to an earthquake, her lips releasing his to cry out, her body still getting pummeled up against the wall. His grunts turned to growls, his hips slapping upward between her thighs, eagerly experiencing her orgasm along with her. The throb and clench of his wife.

His chest nearly caved in after saying the words, but he couldn’t hold them back, because they belonged to her. He belonged to her, and she should know it. Maybe she wasn’t quite able to say it back just yet. And that was okay. He should expect her to be hesitant after keeping her at a distance. He’d wait forever, for the rest of his life, for those three words from her, if necessary. For now, he should just be grateful she was coming home.

As soon as he’d finished completely, he stumbled on half numb legs to the bed, Natalie safe in his arms, and he lay down, pulling her as close as possible, kissing his way across her hairline. Her warm breath bathed his throat and he wrapped his arms tighter, drawing the duvet around their half-naked bodies as best he could when they were on top of the covers. “August, I don’t think you realize what it means to me that you came all the way here,” she said softly. “I don’t think you realize how valued and important that made me feel. Thank you.”

It took him a moment to swallow the sideways pencil in his throat. “You’re the most important person in my life, Natalie. You always will be.”

Her fingertips were busy for a moment in his chest hair, before they stilled and she exhaled slowly. “The day you rescued Teri Frasier and her kids from the flood . . . that’s when I realized I was in love with you, but when you walked in tonight, I . . . you felt like my husband. You were my real husband for the first time, and I loved you so much. I love you so much—”

A warm balm spread across his soul. “We’re going home to run the winery together, okay? It’s ours as well as Sam’s. I’ll do better.”

She captured his face in her hands, her damp eyes looking into his equally moist ones. “I’ll do better, too. You’re not the only one who’s imperfect.”

When she rolled over and pressed her bare ass into his lap, he needed no further encouragement. He’d show her every single day, for as long as he lived.

Chapter Twenty-Six

The morning after they’d returned from New York, the air tasted sweeter, her chest felt lighter, and she was more optimistic than she’d been in a really long time. Not the desperate, edgy kind of optimism that came with trying to climb the finance world ladder, but . . . a calm sense that she was in the right place. That she might just be enough on her own without having to prove herself over and over again.

While waiting to board their flight at JFK, Natalie had called and explained everything to Claudia and offered to compensate her for all the time she’d spent working on their start-up. Of course, she’d accepted, because smart was smart. Natalie’s loyal friend may have even seemed a little happy that her marriage to August was going to stick. Not that she would ever admit it. Natalie had also left a message with Savage’s assistant letting him know they would no longer require the investment. Unless he fancied putting his money behind a winery with a one-star Yelp rating.

No word back yet.

Julian and Corinne had been waiting in August’s driveway when they pulled up, having been alerted of their arrival back in Napa via text from August. Her mother actually apologized—and meant it, unless Natalie was totally mistaken. Her mother genuinely hadn’t wanted to bother Natalie with business on “her honeymoon” but would be including her in all interactions with VineWatch going forward.

Yeah. The air felt different today. Easier to inhale.

Natalie stopped short in front of the production barn.

Even after August’s assurance that no part of the winery was off-limits to her anymore, she still couldn’t bring herself to simply walk inside. Her husband stepped into view inside the barn, waving at her from the dusky interior, a leather apron pulled on over his white T-shirt.

Warmth trickled through her at the husky familiarity in his voice and she had to force a sip of coffee past the lump in her throat. “Morning.”

He cleaned his hands on a rag a lot longer than seemed necessary, all while looking her over. “I was hoping you could help me out in here today.”

Her fingers flexed around the coffee mug, happiness popping like bubbles below her throat. “You’re sure?”

Natalie shook her head. “You can take some time letting me in, August.”

He looked prepared for that response, because his expression didn’t change one iota. His voice remained even, though the latter seemed to require an effort. “You’re in, Natalie. You’re in deep and that’s where I want you. I can’t do this for Sam by myself. I need you with me. I’ve needed you with me all along.” He paused. “That’s probably why I couldn’t hear him the other day. He was giving me the silent treatment until I pulled my head out of my ass. He’s back now.”

Natalie breathed in and out very carefully, positive too big of an inhale would snap her in half. “I’m so glad, August,” she whispered unevenly. “I’m glad he’s back.”

It was hard to find words, let alone the right ones in that moment, so she simply spoke from the heart. “You were lucky to have Sam, August. But he was lucky to have you, too.”

She slipped past him into the production facility, the fronts of their bodies brushing together and making their breath catch. “If I have to deal with your drama, you have to deal with my speech about the intricacies of a grape.”

Natalie stopped in front of the racked barrels, noticing immediately that August had spent the morning filtering the ones she hadn’t had time to do on Friday.

She looked at August to find a serious expression on his face, arms crossed.

He wasn’t just paying her lip service, he was actively following her lead.

She smiled on the heels of their kiss. “I think you just named our first vintage.”

* * *

A handful of days later, on the way home from buying August socks without holes—seriously, he didn’t own a single intact pair—Natalie had the craziest urge to pull over and buy flowers, too. The shopping trip was quite a departure from her usual routine of popping into one of St. Helena’s many wine stores around four P.M. for a bottle—and backup bottle—of Cabernet. Who was this person she was slowly turning into? She hadn’t even blow-dried her hair this morning, she’d just showered and let it dry in haphazard waves, because she couldn’t wait to meet August in the facility, where he was already up and working.

Each morning, while she drank her coffee, she watched him from the window of the house, smiling into every sip as he continually glanced over his shoulder, waiting for her to come join him. Visibly eager to have his partner in crime out in the barn at his side. She’d gladly given up her blow-drying time in the mornings just to watch it. Observe how much he wanted her company. How much he wanted her around, all the time.

Now, Natalie pulled onto the dusty shoulder, parked, and got out. She had groceries in the back of the car so August could make them dinner tonight, because some things would never change. She wasn’t going to become a chef, in addition to becoming a vintner. There was only one cook in the family, as evidenced by her pitiful attempt at eggs yesterday. Genius move, marrying a man who was accustomed to surviving on field rations—he’d choked them down without blinking and appeared only mildly seasick afterward.

On her way to the flower stand, her heart swelled so much that her entire chest felt like a struck funny bone. The gooey sensation melted down into her fingertips and tingled there. And she walked faster, wanting to get home.

Something inside her was healing at a rapid rate, not only because of this love stampede that had totally trampled her beneath its hooves. But because she’d pushed for exactly what she needed and deserved. She’d accepted nothing less and the reward . . .

It reminded her of the wild blooms that burst from all corners of the road-side stand. Colorful. Beautiful. Every time she looked at one of the bouquets, she saw something new, something different. She’d spent a long time on one side of a wall, with her fear of rejection, and August had been behind a different one. They couldn’t see each other until they’d both climbed over and met in the middle. In a sea of flowers.

Or grapes, as it were.

Natalie’s head came up, a puzzled expression on her face. She hadn’t narrowed it down to two options yet. Was the flower vendor speaking to her?

A gentleman she hadn’t noticed before had approached from the opposite end of the shoulder. Wait . . . she recognized the man. It was August’s CO. Commander Zelnick. What was he doing back in St. Helena?

The commander glanced at Natalie from the corner of his eye and nodded politely, but he obviously didn’t recognize her—and no wonder. Last time she met the man, she’d been in a skirt and blouse with perfectly coiffed hair and makeup. Currently, she was in a loose pair of boyfriend jeans, a tank top, and no bra, with sunburned cheeks, and she looked like she’d just been through a wind tunnel.

She approached the CO slowly, intending to reintroduce herself and ask what had brought him back to St. Helena, but he spoke to the vendor first. “I’m not sure. I met her only once, but I think she’s more the roses type.”

Was it possible . . . he was here to visit August and those flowers were for her? More than possible. It was likely. Who else could this man know in a town where he didn’t reside?

As the flower salesman went about wrapping the roses in paper, Natalie approached, clearing her throat softly. “Excuse me, Commander Zelnick. It’s me. Natalie. August’s wife.” There was no way to stop the smile that spread across her mouth after saying those words, so she simply let it grow and held out her hand for a shake. “I think you’re buying me flowers?”

After a moment of clear confusion, he merely looked chagrined. “I’m sorry.” He shook her hand once, firmly. “I didn’t recognize you.”

I don’t recognize myself these days.

At least all the new, good parts.

Natalie nodded. “I thought as much.” She gestured to her dusty jeans. “We’ve spent some time out working in the vineyard today, cultivating the soil. I ran to the store to grab some ingredients for dinner—more than enough for three. I assume you’re on your way to see August?”

He trailed off, expecting Natalie to jump in with an answer. She didn’t have one.

Investment?

Obviously not picking up on the fact that she was stunned, the man continued on while unearthing his car keys from the pocket of his slacks. “I know it has been only a few weeks, but I’m eager to see what improvements have been made.”

A few weeks.

The commander had given August money? For the vineyard?

They’d been in such a happiness haze since returning from New York, they hadn’t really spoken about the missed appointment with Ingram at the bank. They’d made no move to reschedule. August hadn’t even brought it up. If his commanding officer had given August an investment weeks ago, had he ever needed a bank loan in the first place?

Had he been keeping a secret, too?

Had he even needed to marry her?

* * *

August took the rag out of his back pocket and swiped it across his sweaty brow, a smile curving his lips when he heard a car pull up in front of the house. Honey, I’m home. He’d been begging Natalie to utter that phrase just once and she’d refused, but he’d get it out of her eventually. Maybe tonight. Maybe now.

He stripped off his shirt.

Went to the back door and did a few pull-ups on the doorframe, hoping it would make his muscles pop. His wife was a sucker for these pecs, which was only fair, because he was a sucker for her. The week since returning from New York was not just the happiest of his life, it was the happiest of anyone’s life, and he’d fight whoever disagreed.

As if he could even locate enough irritation inside himself to throw a punch. He was all sunshine and doves below the neck these days. His wife was really his wife. She was happy with him. She actually fucking loved him back, this human work of art. With every passing day, he discovered more about her, too. Her ticklish spots, her very precise routine in the shower that involved around nine different products, all of which smelled like goddamn heaven, the silly voice she used to speak to the cat when she thought he couldn’t hear.

The hopeful way she talked about her family as they continued to reconnect, the intent way she listened, like she couldn’t wait to be his confidant, the way she sometimes just needed a rubber band for her hair. Seriously, he’d started keeping a collection of the little black bands on his wrist, because she could never seem to find one, despite the fact that they were everywhere in the house. Sometimes all he had to do to make her smile was hand her a rubber band so she could put her hair up in one of those crazy knots. The first time it happened, she’d looked at him like he’d just turned his chair around for her on The Voice.

They fought over control of the television remote.

They fought over a lot of things.

She couldn’t cook for shit.

And he loved her with the fire of a thousand suns.

Which made those fights end pretty damn quickly, because his chest started to sting and all he wanted was to make her happy again. It helped that she didn’t like fighting with him anymore, either. She’d grumped at him this morning before her coffee and two minutes later, she’d been crawling onto his lap at the dining room table with apology kisses. Leading to apology sex. His nuts were back in a knot right now, just thinking about how she’d pouted the word sorry against his mouth, straddling him.

Rocking just once on his lap and liquefying his brain.

Was it possible to marry her again? Or did he have to wait a certain number of years to renew their vows?

This phenomenal woman had snuck over barriers he didn’t even know existed inside him. She’d started helping him bring Sam’s dream to life . . . and slowly it was becoming their dream, too. Yeah, it was becoming theirs, and that was more than okay. It was his life now and he desperately wanted to go on living it forever.

August dropped down from the doorframe after a few more pull-ups, his brow knitting over the arrival of a second car. Who was that?

When he walked out of the barn, the person he needed to see was Natalie—and he did. Briefly. She glanced at him with a strange look on her face as she slipped into the house with a bunch of roses in her arms, shutting the door behind her. What the hell was that?

He started after her, stopping short when his CO climbed out of the second car.

As always, his spine snapped straight at the sound of his commanding officer’s voice, but his mind didn’t follow. Not this time. Something was up with his wife. Why was his neck tingling like danger was imminent?

Commander Zelnick approached with his hands clasped behind his back. “I don’t mean to keep surprising you like this, Cates, but I never know when I’m going to get enough free time to drive up from Coronado.” He nodded at the barn. “I trust things are on their way to improving.”

He didn’t mean it to sound ridiculous, but his mouth wasn’t connecting with his brain. She’d stopped to buy flowers? For their house? Why did that make him feel like there was a potato sack race happening inside his chest? And why hadn’t she smiled at him?

Was something wrong?

Yes. Something is wrong.

He’d been avoiding thinking about it during their week of bliss, but with the appearance of his commanding officer, the monumental thing he’d been keeping from Natalie jumped up and dug its teeth into his jugular. Every time he thought he had gathered enough courage to tell her about the investment, he recalled the way her father and ex-fiancé had manipulated her with the contents of their bank accounts. Or her trust fund. Not to mention, the investor she’d met with in New York. How she resented their refusal to be straightforward about money.

A little longer, he kept thinking. I’ll tell her about the investment once some time has passed since my last fuckup. Really, it had been just over a week since he’d sent her running to the other side of the country. They were so happy. He’d just wanted more things about their marriage in the pro column before he added deceptive about money to the con side.

The man only looked confused. “Why not?”

This was bad. This was very bad.

His spleen was seconds from erupting, and he didn’t even know where his spleen was located. Or its function.

Fix it. Fix it now.

August took a deep breath on his journey toward the house. “That’s probably a good idea, sir.”

With a brisk nod, the commanding officer strode to his car, as if a battle awaited.

And it did. The big one.

Why the hell had August kept this from her for so long? Didn’t he know better by now?

August paused with his hand on the doorknob, then opened the door carefully, waiting a beat, just in case a plate or frying pan came flying at his head. “Princess?”

No answer.

Shit. I’m screwed.

Silent treatment from Natalie was so much worse than arguing, because he didn’t get to hear her voice and it meant her feelings were injured. Utter torture.

August stopped short just inside the door, because a sight greeted him that he wasn’t expecting. Natalie was standing in the middle of the kitchen, wringing her hands. She appeared to be . . . nervous? Why?

Did people get nervous before they asked for a divorce?

Probably.

Acid flooded his organs, so thick he could taste it in his mouth.

Several seconds passed in silence.

Then, to his surprise, she nodded.

She sucked in a breath and let it out slowly. “The day of the wedding, my father called and offered to release my trust fund.” She searched his eyes as the tears began to drip from her own. “I said no. Not because of my pride, either, but . . . because I wanted to marry you. I couldn’t put a name to how I felt about you at the time, but . . .” She swiped at her eyes, a sob sneaking out. “I loved you—I know that now. I know it so deeply.”

A rush of unimaginable happiness blew in and knocked him off his feet.

Natalie knelt down in front of him, fingers rushing over him, as if to check for an injury. When she didn’t find one, she clasped his face in her hands. “August.”

Appearing dazed, she shook her head. “So, technically, we didn’t have to get married. We just . . . wanted to?”

She shot off the floor into his lap, where she belonged, planting kisses all over his face, which he was all too happy to sit back and receive, his mind still struggling to play catch-up. God, if you’re listening, please, please give me a century just like this. “I love you just as much, August Cates,” she said, finally, against his lips. “Despite the fights. Maybe even because of them. Because there is no one more worthy of battling for.”

His wife, the love of his life, kissed him with tears in her eyes.

And at last the world made sense.

Epilogue

Eight years later

Over the course of eight years of marriage, Natalie had seen August mad plenty of times. They’d always been, and continued to be, hot-tempered individuals and they ran a successful winery together. Of course they argued. The beauty was in the forgiveness—and they did forgiveness really well. Whether they fought over temperature management of the wine or planting strategy, they didn’t stay mad long. One of them usually caved after five minutes of silent treatment. And she meant “caved” in the literal sense, because the wine cave was usually where they ended up engaging in frenzied apologies out of earshot of their employees.

Yes, she’d seen August plenty mad. But never so mad as today, when he found out their daughter’s dance partner hadn’t shown up for a recital.

They were outside the school auditorium in a huge group. Natalie, August, Hallie, Julian, Corinne, and her new husband. August’s parents were there, too, having flown in from Kansas for the big night. Truth be told, it was hard to keep August’s parents out of Napa. They’d discovered a late-in-life passion for Cabernet and were now the proud owners of summer linens and straw hats, fitting in seamlessly with the locals. August’s mother referred to her stylish new attire as her “wine pants,” and Natalie adored the woman to no end. After all, she’d raised the love of Natalie’s life. A man who’d taken to parenting like he was born to be a girl dad.

Which was a very good thing, because they had three.

Parker, the oldest at seven. Parks for short.

Elle, the youngest, at two.

Both were currently home with a babysitter—the same home where August had carried Natalie over the threshold. They’d simply kept adding on rooms.

The cat was still punishing them.

Samantha, their middle girl, was a very serious five and a half—and tonight was her jazz recital. Her older sister, Parker, played sports. August dedicated a lot of time to coaching her teams. When Samantha had expressed an interest in dance, he was very adamant that he give the same level of attention to his middle daughter’s interests, so she wouldn’t feel slighted. He might have stopped shy of teaching the dance class, but he’d asked so many questions at rehearsals that the teacher eventually started ignoring his raised hand.

Her heart crawled up into her throat. “You know, she’s going to get through this. It’s going to be a good lesson. Life gives us lemons sometimes—”

Her mouth seemed to be distracting him from the problem at hand. “You look insane tonight, you know that, right?” he said in a lowered voice, his gaze traveling down the front of her burgundy silk wrap dress, his right hand lifting to squeeze her hip. “I was going to tell you when we arrived, but you sprung this whole missing partner on me. Damn, look at your legs. I could literally eat you alive.”

She took a deep inhale of his grapefruit scent and for a moment, there was nothing and no one but the two of them. This man whom she’d married under the guise of a marriage of convenience, but whom she’d been in love with all along. This man who’d become her best friend, business partner, biggest supporter, and co-parent. They were the best thing to ever happen to each other and neither one of them took it for granted.

Looking back, eight years had gone by at the speed of sound, and yet every moment was so vivid that she could replay them in slow motion. It was almost like living through those cherished memories twice. The evening they’d opened a bottle of their first vintage and it actually tasted decent? August had put Natalie on his back and run through the vineyard while she was still holding the open container. They were covered in wine by the time they collapsed and made love under the moon, the scent of grapes and earth filling her nose. Two years of hard work later, their wine had started pouring better than decent, and it was good timing, because she’d just found out she was pregnant with Samantha.

Funny, she’d never envisioned herself as a mother. Not until she met someone who reminded her she was fearless. Someone who imbued her with twice her strength, because they were a team. In everything. Made Natalie feel like such a vital part of a family that she started dreaming of expanding it. August’s response to her broaching the subject of having kids?

Princess, I thought you’d never ask.

They didn’t come out of their bedroom for a solid forty-eight hours.

Ten months later, August had passed out from sympathy pains in the delivery room and hit his head on a metal cart, resulting in nineteen stitches.

He still had the scar and claimed it made him even more attractive.

Natalie couldn’t exactly disagree. Who didn’t like a reminder that their husband had enough empathy and love in his heart that he could lose consciousness over it?

That was August. Empathy, love . . . and unconditional support. When she wanted to use her trust fund to buy shares in VineWatch, he’d supported her without question and watched proudly at her side as that investment quadrupled in the space of a year. She’d managed to convince Corinne and Julian to do the same, their faith in her healing a deep-down wound that had been lurking since childhood. The Vos family had definitely grown closer since then. Family dinners were messier, thanks to their girls. Julian and Hallie were also parents to a beautiful set of five-year-old twin boys. One of them was very serious and had a deep obsession with sharks. The other was wild to the bone and had once been found hanging from the dining room chandelier at Corinne’s.

One day in the not-too-distant future, these cousins were going to paint St. Helena red.

For now, they had a dance recital crisis.

He dipped his head on a smile that was almost bashful. “You doing that thing where you rewind the past and get all sentimental on me?”

She pressed her lips together tightly and nodded. “Maybe.”

Slowly, his smile gave way to a serious expression. “If I had one wish, it would be to slow down my time with you, Natalie. A hundred years won’t be enough.”

If they kept this up, she was either going to swoon or cry in front of their entire family. With a big inhale, she straightened the collar of his dress shirt. “Go talk to Samantha. She needs you.”

He studied her face for a long moment, as if memorizing every feature, before striding away. Natalie didn’t know what made her follow. Maybe she wanted to provide parental backup if the waterworks started again. Or maybe she just wanted to witness a moment between August and their middle daughter. But for whatever reason, she crept in his wake toward the stage entrance and peeked in through the crack of the door.

There was Samantha, the spitting image of Natalie at that age, sitting on August’s knee in her emerald green sequined dress and matching mini top hat. As Natalie had feared, her lower lip was trembling again. As strong as her impulse was to enter the room and comfort her baby, Natalie remained in place. August had this.

Samantha giggle-sniffed.

Samantha gasped. “You’re not a big doofus.”

Their daughter was quiet for a long moment, her tiny throat muscles starting to strain. “Dad?”

And that’s how August ended up dancing as Samantha’s partner in the recital, with a miniature green, sequined top hat pinned to his head, every move executed flawlessly. Yet another memory that Natalie would replay again and again for the rest of their lives.

Acknowledgments

When I sat down to write this enemies-to-lovers book, I asked myself, “What is the one thing I need to feel satisfied after a book about two people feuding? What is going to make me feel better after the harshly spoken words?” The answer came to me right away. I need irrefutable proof that the hero has loved the heroine all along. I hope you’ll agree that is exactly what we have here. August and Natalie are some of my favorite characters I’ve ever written—please enjoy them and their stubborn with a side of vulnerable ways.

Thank you so much to everyone who worked on this beloved book of mine, with a special thanks to my incredible editor, Nicole Fischer, who never fails to help a story sparkle. Thank you, as well, to Daniel H. who let me ask him questions about finance. I still can’t do math.

And as always, thank you to the best READERS on earth. Your tits look insane.

Love,

Tessa

About the Author

#1 New York Times bestselling author TESSA BAILEY can solve all problems except for her own, so she focuses those efforts on stubborn, fictional blue-collar men and loyal, lovable heroines. She lives on Long Island, avoiding the sun and social interactions, then wonders why no one has called. Dubbed the “Michelangelo of dirty talk” by Entertainment Weekly, Tessa writes with spice, spirit, swoon, and a guaranteed happily ever after. Catch her on TikTok @authortessabailey or check out tessabailey.com for a complete list of her books.

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Announcement

Don’t forget to check out Julian and Hallie’s story! Secretly Yours is available now.

And keep an eye out for Tessa’s new series . . .

Wreck the Halls

A fun, sexy Christmas romance coming Fall 2023

By Tessa Bailey

Secretly Yours

Unfortunately Yours

Bellinger Sisters

It Happened One Summer

Hook, Line, and Sinker

Hot & Hammered

Fix Her Up

Love Her or Lose Her

Tools of Engagement

The Academy

Disorderly Conduct

Indecent Exposure

Disturbing His Peace

Broke and Beautiful

Chase Me

Need Me

Make Me

Romancing the Clarksons

Too Hot to Handle

Too Wild to Tame

Too Hard to Forget

Too Beautiful to Break

Made in Jersey

Crashed Out

Rough Rhythm

Thrown Down

Worked Up

Wound Tight

Crossing the Line

Risking It All

Up in Smoke

Boiling Point

Raw Redemption

Line of Duty

Protecting What’s His

Protecting What’s Theirs (novella)

His Risk to Take

Officer Off Limits

Asking for Trouble

Staking His Claim

Serve

Owned by Fate

Exposed by Fate

Driven by Fate

Beach Kingdom

Mouth to Mouth

Heat Stroke

Sink or Swim

Standalone Books

Unfixable

Baiting the Maid of Honor

Off Base

Captivated

Getaway Girl

Runaway Girl

Copyright

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

UNFORTUNATELY YOURS. Copyright © 2023 by Tessa Bailey. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.

FIRST EDITION

Cat with bow tie illustration © lexlinx / Shutterstock

Cover illustration by Monika Roe

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data has been applied for.

Digital Edition JUNE 2023 ISBN: 978-0-06-323904-3

Print ISBN: 978-0-06-323903-6

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