Unfortunately Yours (A Vine Mess, #2)

That big hand flexed on her back. “Do you always let your guard down during sex?”

“I mean . . . I have.” She drew the words out, registering her answer even as she spoke it out loud. “Sort of. Let it down. But I definitely can’t let it down with someone who is gleeful about pointing out my shortcomings and poking fun at my insecurities. That’s just self-sabotage.”

He frowned down at her. “What about the fact that you poke fun at my insecurities, too? Wouldn’t it be self-sabotage for me, as well?”

“You are a man. You’d be getting sex. You wouldn’t care.”

“Valid point.” His eyes narrowed further. “So you’re saying you would care?”

“I’m saying I’d beat myself up over giving in while you snored it up on the other side of the bed.”

“You’re so sure you wouldn’t be snoring right there beside me?”

“We’re not going to find out.”

“I’m inclined to agree to anything right now to make you happy, Natalie, but I’m not agreeing to any no sex rules. Sorry. We’re grown adults and if we both want something, we should be able to take it without consulting some arbitrary rulebook.” His chest rose and fell as he pulled her in closer. “If you don’t directly ask me for sex, I’ll respect that. But if you want to be fucked, you’re going to get it. Period, the end.”

Oh damn. That pulse was back and now a damp sensation had been thrown in.

She was aware of every erogenous zone she owned. Her hip blades, the insides of her ankles, her neck and throat and breasts.

This evening could not end quickly enough.

“Ah, here they are,” crooned a man’s voice behind Natalie. She turned to find the general manager of the wine train approaching with his hat sitting jauntily on his head. “The newly engaged lovebirds. Follow me this way, please.” Finally, Natalie unhooked her arms from around August’s neck and trailed after the manager, cool air once again making her arms prickle. “I’ll take you to the Lovers’ Nest.”

“Caw,” August chirped in her ear, sounding like a dying crow. “Caw.”

Natalie elbowed him in the stomach.

He chuckled.

And dropped his jacket around her shoulders.

I will never, ever let you down again. Is that clear?

His words bounced around in her head over and over again on their way up to the second floor of the train. He couldn’t possibly mean that, could he? No way. Just lulling her into a false sense of security. Still, her mind continued to replay that intense vow, the seriousness of his tone. Almost like he’d been trying to engrave those words on her brain. Yet he’d left something unspoken, buried between the lines.

But no. That’s ridiculous.

The manager led them to the farthest corner of the train’s second floor and stopped in front of a high-backed, red velvet swivel chair, the sides curved for ultimate privacy. It could face the train car or the window, depending on how it was turned. With a smile of pure anticipation on his face, the manager hit a button and a small fireplace bloomed to life beneath the picture window that would display their view of Napa’s rolling hills on the train ride.

But . . .

“There is only one chair,” Natalie pointed out.

“Oh, is there?” The man feigned surprise. “Surely it’s big enough for two. You won’t know unless you try!”

“Have you seen this man?” She jerked a thumb in August’s direction. “He’s the actual Yeti. He probably won’t even be able to fit into it by himself.”

The man looked momentarily thrown, but he rallied with a tip of his hat. “I’ll leave you to your own devices,” the manager sang, backing away, clearly committed to the belief that he was doing them a favor. And even Natalie had to admit . . . the setting was nothing short of sickeningly romantic. The pink-gold sunset burnished the velvet swivel chair in a glow and the fire crackled. A bottle of wine sat open on a side table with two glasses. Had her relationship with August been real, she’d be obligated to ovulate.

Natalie turned to August with the intention of informing him they would just sit in a couple of the regular seats, like the handful of inaugural ride passengers who were now making their way up to the second floor. Before she could open her mouth, however, he dropped into the deep swivel chair, stretched his long legs out, and patted his thigh. “Your throne awaits, princess.”

“I am not sitting . . .” Realizing the other passengers were within earshot, she lowered her voice to a whisper. “I am not sitting on your lap in this public pleasure den. What do they expect us to do here?”

August considered the curved and extended sides of the swivel chair that were obviously meant to block them from view. “Some groping at the very least.”

Please tell me that my nipples aren’t tingling. “Grope me and live to regret it.”

“Fine.” He sighed, running a hand down his tie. “You can grope me.”

“You mispronounced ‘strangle.’”

His answering laugh fell silent after a moment and he leaned forward. “Natalie.” He tucked his tongue into his cheek. “We’re not convincing anybody.”

A familiar laugh came from the direction of the stairs and Natalie glanced over to find Hallie’s blond curls among the crowd of newcomers to the second floor. Which meant her brother wouldn’t be far behind. Hallie was speaking with the British woman who owned the donut shop in town, Fudge Judy, and if memory served, she loved to gossip. Everyone from the mayor to the teenagers of St. Helena frequented the shop. Behind them were several other business owners and ladies who lunch—all eager to get eyes on the newly engaged couple. Being standoffish with her supposed fiancé would be noticed and commented on. Maybe, according to her mother, even reported back to Ingram Meyer?

Natalie looked down at August, who was now staring into the fire. Back in the tent, she’d made a split-second decision. Either jump into this subterfuge with both feet and form a convincing union . . . or call it off immediately—and put herself back at square one. She’d looked down at August on one knee, his expression earnest and hopeful and . . . she’d felt something unnamed, but poignant, move inside of her, causing her to choose the former. Natalie and August were now engaged in the eyes of the St. Helena elite.

This marriage of convenience had been her idea. August arriving out of the blue like a wrecking ball had caught her off guard outside, but right now? If she didn’t swallow her pride, this plan was going to sink them both before it even started.

In finance, her credo was go big or go home.

Obviously it hadn’t always paid off, considering she’d gone big and . . . gotten sent home.

Doubts were piling up about the wisdom of this arrangement. But it was the solution to her problem. A way forward. And if she didn’t seize it with both hands, the chance would pass her by. Through the crowd, she met Hallie’s eyes. Saw her brother’s tall frame moving into view and it occurred to her, if she brought shame on the family name, all of Julian’s hard work to restore the winery would go down the drain.

God, she couldn’t do that. No chance.

There was no more time to waffle.

With a deep inhale, Natalie set down her clutch on the side table, hesitated a moment, then parked her backside on August’s thigh. Obviously he’d expected her to stand for the whole ride or sit somewhere else, because his eyebrows shot up, that big paw going to the small of her back automatically, his fingers splaying on the base of her spine.

“I should probably just keep my mouth shut,” he said, his voice lower by several octaves, “so I don’t say anything to fuck this up.”

“That would be the smartest thing you’ve ever done.”

“Yeah, wow. Engaged for twenty minutes and I’m already a changed man.” She watched in the reflection of the window as August’s attention ran down the slope of her neck. Felt his heart accelerate against her shoulder. “But I can’t help but point out . . .”

“God, you refuse to get out of your own way.”

“That maybe you’re afraid to kiss me.”

She pinned him with a look, her pulse quickening over their position—faces no more than a few inches apart, his hand braced on her back protectively, fingertips curling slightly as if he wanted to pull her closer. All the way into his lap. His five-o’clock shadow, which hadn’t been visible upon his arrival, was beginning to darken his jaw and his tie was slightly crooked. A rugged soldier forced into a suit and a marriage. For her. With her.

They were a team whether she liked it or not. Natalie had a feeling the next thing out of his mouth would put her firmly in the or not camp.

“Why am I afraid to kiss you? Besides your overall repellency, I mean.”

He gave a cocky shrug. “You’re scared to enjoy it.”

“Do you actually think I’m going to fall for this?” she sputtered.

“Fall for what? It’s the truth. You can’t stand my ass, but if we kissed, you’d forget.”