Unfortunately Yours (A Vine Mess, #2)

They’d almost definitely been spotted kissing in the reflection of the window. The purpose of the Lovers’ Nest had been served. So why was she leaning in again, craving the fullness of his lips and the way his hands traveled over her slowly, memorizing the dip of her side, the shape of her kneecaps, everywhere.

Natalie’s mouth was half a centimeter from August’s, her heart pounding riotously. The gauntlet between them was blurring. This kiss was going to be all about pleasure. Exploring. Them. Desperately, she tried to recall all the insults about her drinking and the way he’d intentionally blindsided her in the tent, but all she could feel was his heart banging like crazy and her own leapt in response to the proof that he was so affected—

“Natalie.”

It took her a full five seconds to realize her mother was speaking.

From where?

Natalie lifted her head and leaned to the side and there was Corinne, arms folded across her trim middle, regarding her with an impassive expression. “Oh my God,” she whispered. “Caught making out by my mother. Did I accidentally board the train back to middle school?”

“Could we speak privately, please?” Corinne continued.

“One minute.”

Natalie ducked back into the privacy of the chair, willing her face back to a normal temperature.

August’s head dropped back on a groan. “Christ.”

“Antichrist is more her vibe, actually.”

His chest rose and fell on a pained laugh. “You’ll have to give me a minute. Or . . . sixty. For this thing to go down.”

“In that case, definitely don’t think about me going down,” she said, fluttering her eyelashes.

“Natalie,” he gritted out.

She dropped her mouth to his ear and let out a warm breath that made him shiver and clutch at the side of her dress. “Looks like I win, rat king.”

His jaw popped. “This time.”

“This is the only time this will happen. We’ve made our point.”

“Unfortunately I’ve still got mine,” he muttered, nodding at his lap.

“Gross,” she snapped, even though she felt the fluttering of a laugh build in her throat, and climbed off his lap. “Get yourself together while I”—she locked eyes with Corinne—“speak to my beautiful mother.”

Corinne rolled her eyes and walked away.

Natalie followed, smiling and thanking people who congratulated her as she passed. When they reached a quiet corner of the train car, Corinne kept a serene smile on her face, but there was no mistaking the temper in her eyes. “Don’t you think it would have been nice to give us a little prewarning before roping your brother and me into this stunt?”

“Yes, I do, actually. That was my intention—”

“In the space of thirty minutes, you and this . . . ape have turned us into a spectacle.”

All at once, Natalie’s blood rose to a rollicking boil. “He’s a war veteran. A Navy SEAL. Don’t ever talk about him like that again.”

Her mother’s mouth snapped shut, but she regrouped quickly. Natalie, however, did not. Since when was she so passionate about defending this man who was supposed to be her enemy? She could insult him until the cows came home, but someone else attempted it and she bit their head off? “You threw wine in this man’s face at the Bouquets and Beginners competition two days ago. Do you not think everyone in town knows about it? Do you not think they’re wondering how you could go from enemies to engaged so quickly?”

Natalie’s cheeks heated. At this rate, she was going to burn off a layer of skin. “Couples argue. You should know that better than anyone. It’s not so hard to swallow the idea that we were in the middle of a spat.”

The other woman was already shaking her head. “You are going to humiliate this family, the same way you did in high school.”

Natalie reared back like she’d been slapped. Her body retreated from the sharp reprimand—and her back came up hard against an immovable object. Startled, she tilted her head to find August behind her, frowning. First at her and then at her mother. “Everything okay, princess?”

Corinne scoffed at the nickname. Natalie watched her mother wage a war between manners and her obvious anger. Surprisingly, the anger won. Instead of shaking hands with August and saying something to smooth over the uncomfortable situation as she normally would, Corinne sailed past them with a tight smile and approached a different group, launching into a boring round of small talk about the train’s restored vintage fixtures.

“How much did you hear?” Natalie asked without turning around.

A beat passed. “Some.”

Based on his gruff tone, he’d heard the part about her humiliating the family. “Great. I guess I spoke too soon.” She didn’t know what to do with her arms. Cross them. Gesture without purpose. Hug her middle. “You win tonight’s battle.”

They stood in silence a moment. Then August surprised her by taking hold of her right hand and leading her back toward the Lovers’ Nest. He dropped into the seat and pulled her down after him. She didn’t have the energy to fight him or pretend his warmth wasn’t welcome and, a moment later, she found her head tucked beneath August’s chin, her legs draped over his thighs, watching Napa go by in the silence.

“Let’s call it a tie for tonight,” he rumbled.

Natalie, experiencing the shock of a lifetime, closed her eyes and nodded.

His voice turned soothing against her ear. “I’m going to rent a tux and you’re going to put on a pretty dress. Or pants. I value my balls, so I’m not telling you what to wear, I just like your legs. A lot. Basically, they belong in a museum.” She sniffed a thank-you and he patted her on the head. “We’re going to say the vows and then I’m going to bring you home to my psychotic-ass cat. We might even bond over trying to defend ourselves against her feline evil. If we manage to survive each other—and Menace—we are going to stick this thing out until you have the money to start your firm. Okay?”

Had anyone ever made an effort to reassure her like this?

Maybe Julian, when she first returned home and felt horribly out of place being back in St. Helena. But her brother’s efforts didn’t strike like this. Not so thoroughly.

How odd that it would be August to calm her down after he’d spent so long riling her up.

“Okay,” she agreed, testing a hand on his chest. “And your loan.”

A pause went by. “Yeah, princess. That, too.”

And she left her palm over his heartbeat, feeling the steady pound, while the train trundled on against the endless sky, his chin eventually coming to rest on top of her head. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all.

Ha.





Chapter Seven




Familiar faces smiled back at Natalie from the surface of her laptop screen. Every time she logged in to social media to check on her New York colleagues, their expressions and even their names became less and less recognizable. The pictures of her former coworkers on a private rooftop had been taken only yesterday, maybe even while she’d been making out with her archnemesis aboard the wine train, but it was like looking at photographs from the past.

The longer Natalie was away from New York, the more these people and their glitzy activities grew unfamiliar. The bounce of euphoria after a successful swap, the adrenaline that surged when the opening bell rang—her memories of those things were starting to fade along with the scent of victory cigars. Those pieces of her life were growing muffled and she wanted them back. Sharper. She wanted to experience it all again, in person.

When she’d first arrived in St. Helena, there had been an almost desperate sense of FOMO. Must get back as soon as possible. Must not let them forget about me. It was still there, beating like an extra pulse in her bloodstream, but the urgency had started to lose its grip on her—and that simply wouldn’t do. She needed it back. Five minutes in New York equated to five years anywhere else. People forgot. Business moved on. The road paved right over yesterday’s star and called them a speed bump.

She belonged on that roof, making the toast. Celebrating a breakneck trade that added value to the fund’s coffers. Zeroes on the screen. When she’d been adding those zeroes, she’d been embraced. She’d been a member of the winning team.

Here in St. Helena?

She was the bumbling, cartoonish mascot.

Although yesterday, for a very brief window, she’d been on a two-person team. With the most unexpected of allies. August. Maybe that’s why she was awake so early—again—trying to sear images from her desired timeline into her brain. Because it had been a little too easy to call a truce with August and let herself just . . . be. Be okay with that big arm slung around her hip and his prickly chin resting on top of her head, nuzzling her hair every so often.

Was it a show for the crowd?

Natalie sighed and stroked a few keys on her Mac, going to a location on the internet she absolutely should be avoiding like the pork special at an all-night diner.

Her ex-fiancé’s Instagram.

She hesitated briefly before tapping enter—and then there he was in all his suited, boyish charm. Her stomach turned sour at the memory of him calmly asking for her engagement ring back. He’d been even calmer while explaining that while he might love her, he couldn’t let their relationship cost him a career he’d worked so hard for.