Unfortunately Yours (A Vine Mess, #2)

Thank God.

He was only going to catch her off guard a little, needle her, maybe even punish her for doubting that he’d come through—but she inhaled quickly against his lips and he watched up close as her eyelashes fluttered and a dumbfounding one-two punch of lust and satisfaction caught him in the stomach. Their eyes closed simultaneously and they sank in, just for a second, a twisting feast of lips and a rough exhale that said this is far from enough. But here wasn’t the place for more, so he intertwined their fingers, winking at her when no one else could see—and did his damnedest to remember this wasn’t real. It was just one enemy helping out another.

Yeah.

“I . . . um.” Natalie shook herself, briefly shot a glance to her mother, whose eyebrows were nearly buried in her hairline. “August. I-I thought you said you couldn’t make it.”

“August? So formal.” He gave her a playful nudge in the hip. “What happened to ‘my Adonis’?”

Temper snapped in Natalie’s expression, but at least the irritation helped her focus, which had been his intention. “That’s something I call you only when we’re alone,” she said with a toothy smile. “You know, kind of like ‘shit for brains.’ And ‘rat king.’”

August laughed. “I love her sense of humor,” he said to the group, absently plucking a glass of wine off a passing tray and taking a long guzzle. Silence had descended like a heavy drape, not only among their fivesome, but across the tent. Until now, this very second, August hadn’t exactly planned on outright embarrassing Natalie. It was sort of a last-minute spin on his plan, born of sexual frustration and the fact that she truly believed he was a simpleton. He might not have a last name that people whispered in reverence on the streets of St. Helena, but he wasn’t a moron. Holding up his end of their battle of wits seemed to be his only way of making sure she knew it.

A full fifteen seconds had ticked past and still no one had commented on his arrival.

“I think I speak for the group when I say . . .” the dumbstruck blonde—Hallie, was it?—finally ventured in a stage whisper. “H’whaaaa is happening here?”

August feigned surprise, shaking stiff-shouldered Natalie a little. “You didn’t tell them, hon?” He drained the remainder of his wine, handing it off to a man who only looked confused by the empty glass. Oops, not a waiter. “Natalie and I have been seeing each other for a while now. Just like a fine Cabernet, we wanted to give ourselves room to breathe, so we’ve kept it quiet, but I was under the impression we were stepping out into the open today.” He smiled down at Natalie, who was very clearly three seconds from ripping his throat out with her teeth. “You said you didn’t want to hide anymore. You said, ‘Let’s shout it from the rooftops, my Adonis.’”

A sound halfway between a laugh and growl burst out of her. “I don’t think I used those exact words—”

“Nope, that’s what you said. Verbatim.”

“I must have been sleep talking.” Golden eyes crackled up at August and hell if that temper wasn’t turning him on. “People are known to talk in their sleep,” she continued. “In rare cases, people are even known to murder loved ones in their sleep. Did you know that? You might want to keep it in mind.”

August dropped his head back and laughed. “There’s that sense of humor again. One of the million reasons I can’t wait to call you my wife.”

You could hear a pin drop in the tent.

“What was that?” Corinne inquired in a smooth whisper, though her color had lightened by several shades. “Did he say ‘wife’?”

“That’s definitely what I heard,” Julian responded, those studious eyes traveling between his sister and August. “What about you, Hallie?”

“Don’t drag me into this.” Then, out of the corner of her mouth, “But if that is what you said, there’s a family discount on floral wedding arrangements.”

Apart from the brief, appreciative smile Julian sent his girlfriend, the tension in the tent remained thicker than a porterhouse steak. All right, August had gone too far. He’d been having his fun with Natalie, but now her temper had faded into something close to regret and panic.

Thank God he’d run that errand last night.

Struck with panic-induced amnesia, he started slapping at his pockets, trying to locate the ring box—

Corinne distracted him by stepping between him and Natalie, her fingers digging into both of their forearms. “Listen to me very carefully. You’ve just set something very delicate in motion. Do you understand?” She drilled August with a look. “You obviously think this is some sidesplitting joke, but a sham marriage could do lasting damage to our family name.” Her attention transferred to Natalie, sharpening so much that August almost dragged Natalie behind his back to shield her. Would have, if he didn’t suspect the matriarch had something important to say. Something he needed to hear. “Ingram Meyer is in attendance today. He is always in attendance. At everything. He has eyes and ears all over St. Helena and takes his responsibilities at the bank very seriously. If he suspects this relationship is all for show, he will deny the release of your trust fund faster than you made this idiotic plan, Natalie.”

Pulse rippling, August did a quick scan of the crowd, and sure enough, there was the loan officer from the bank—tall, slender, and pasty in a straw hat. This guy had barely glanced at August’s application before dismissing him completely. The same man who held Natalie’s fate in his grip.

“Either drop the act now,” Corinne continued in a low hiss, “or understand that this needs to be a serious endeavor. You’re not just convincing the bank, you’re convincing the whole town of St. Helena because it’s all one giant, plugged-in pipeline. You’ll need to share a residence, be seen together in public. Have a proper wedding. If that’s the direction of your choosing, then act accordingly. Now. Before you two make this family out to be nothing more than a bunch of cheap con artists.”

Was it too late to leave and try his entrance again?

Natalie’s features were carefully schooled, as usual, but the blood had drained from her face—and August loathed himself for causing that reaction.

Why do you do things like this?

No time to explore the mysteries of his universe now, because he had a feeling Natalie was seconds from backing out. Dropping the act. Of course she was. Who would trust him with something so delicate after he’d entered like a bull walking into a china shop?

He could not let this chance slip away. His dick/gut told him he’d regret it forever.

As fast as humanly possible, August drew the ring box out of his pants pocket and got down on one knee.

Natalie swayed backward a little and August’s free hand shot out automatically to steady her. She looked down at him without breathing, her gaze tripping between him and the ring box, then . . . just on him. For a moment, there was no one else in the tent. Only them. And he was slightly alarmed by the rough grind in his chest, even as he was secretly grateful for the rise of nerves. She deserved to have a nervous man down on one knee, didn’t she?

Hell yes, she did.

“What I meant to say, Natalie, is . . . I would like to call you my wife.” He thumbed open the black velvet box without taking his attention off her. Couldn’t have pried it off with a crowbar. Jesus, was there even a chance she’d say yes now? His heart lifted and wedged itself behind his jugular. “I’m asking you to spend the rest of your life trying not to murder me in your sleep. Please.”

Did the corner of her mouth jump?

Had he salvaged this?

Time stood still while she peered down at the ring, those lines popping into existence between her brows. Considering the proposal? Jesus, come on, Natalie. Sweat was beginning to dribble down his spine. He’d been on life-and-death missions less stressful than this.

Finally, she wet her lips and held out her left hand, whispering, “No promises about the murder thing.”

August’s heart dropped back into place and his hearing turned normal again. When had it grown so distorted? No amount of mental orders could keep his fingers from shaking as he took out the small diamond ring and slipped it onto her finger. Not real, he reminded himself again after standing, looking down into her stunned face. Instinct had August pulling Natalie up against his chest, surprise crashing into him when she wrapped her arms around him and held on tight.

People were applauding. Even Natalie’s family. When did that start?

Well. Everyone but Ingram Meyer was clapping.

The man regarded them through narrowed eyes over the rim of his wineglass.

Do better for her.

“Thanks,” she whispered into his shoulder. “You just had to act like a mega asshole, didn’t you? But I guess . . . thanks.”

“Can we negotiate my conjugal rights now?”

Great. Way to do better. His dick truly ruined everything.

“Nope,” Natalie said.

“Worth a shot.”