Unfortunately Yours (A Vine Mess, #2)

August’s pulse galloped. He’d used all of his brain power yesterday trying to get to the bottom of Natalie’s alcohol hang-ups, but he would try mining for more. “If you could tell me exactly what you came to say, Mrs. Vos, it would be much appreciated,” he said finally.

She inclined her head. “I should put a stop to this right now. This out-of-the-blue wedding and inevitable quick split has the potential to embarrass my family and the reputation I’ve worked so hard to carry through bad times and good—and there have been times that reputation is all we had. A farce like this one threatens to make us a punchline.” She tapped a finger against the back of her hand. “I’m supposed to pay the caterers today. But before I spend a fortune on crab rangoon . . . what would you say if I offered you a certain sum of money to leave and never come back?”

“I’d say burn it.” He said it without a thought. Didn’t need one. “And hell yeah on the crab.”

“Somehow I knew you’d tell me what to do with my money.” Her eyes narrowed slightly. “I saw . . . something. In the way you acted toward my daughter the other night on the train. I can’t really put my finger on what it was. Perhaps . . . protecting your investment? After all, being married to a Vos will earn this place a lot of attention.” August started to speak up, not sure exactly what would come out of his mouth, only that he took serious objection to Natalie being referred to as an investment. But Corinne held up a hand before he could speak. “Somehow that theory didn’t stick. So I’ve come here to ask you one thing. If you can give me a satisfying answer, I will pay the caterers and smile my way through your wedding vows.”

“Ask me anything,” August said, looking her dead in the eye. Bring it on. He’d once walked nineteen miles in the pitch-black with a snake bite. His commanding officer might have been cordial during his recent visit to the vineyard, but he’d once asked August if he had a pile of shit for brains. There wasn’t a question on earth that could scare him.

“Do you have genuine feelings for my daughter?”

All right, maybe that one.

Did he have feelings for Natalie?

August almost laughed.

Honestly, he should have just said yes. That would have been more than enough. It would have been true—and there wouldn’t be any mistaking that. But for some reason—and this probably had a lot to do with the fucking feelings themselves—he wanted this woman to approve of him, fake son-in-law or not. God help him, in this moment, he didn’t want the arrangement to be phony. He wanted, maybe needed, someone to tell him he was worthy of Natalie.

“I’ve lost count of the feelings I have for your daughter. Pardon me for saying this, but lust is really high on that list.” She rolled her eyes, so he rushed to continue. “But that’s only the beginning, really. I, uh . . . I worry about her. You know?” That confession ripped a seam open and the rest just came pouring out. “Sometimes she looks sad and I goad her into a fight just to get the kaleidoscope turning in her eyes again. And when it comes back, it’s a lot easier for me to concentrate. I’m not going to lie, sometimes she irritates me, but way more often, I’m just trying not to laugh. She’s really goddamn funny. Like, the girl can verbally cut my balls off and I respect that, even when I’m pissed. Does that make sense?” Corinne’s face remained totally blank, except for an eyebrow that was slowly creeping higher. “I don’t know what else to say except . . . if someone hurt her, I would go ballistic, ma’am. My head aches even thinking about it. I’m actually afraid to find out what happened in New York, because . . .” I’ve managed to hold my cards pretty close to the vest, but if I find out someone wronged her, she’s going to know I’m the furthest thing from casual when it comes to her. “Like I said, I don’t like her being sad. I’d rather have her angry and I’m pretty good at making that happen. I’d also really like her to be happy with me more often than she’s annoyed. I’d . . . love it, actually. Happy Natalie is a mission I want to go on and never come back. Have I gotten off track here?”

For long seconds, there was nothing but the sound of the wind. “I think I got what I came for.”

Jesus, that sounded ominous. “Is that a good or bad thing?”

“That remains to be seen.”

“Are you always this cryptic?” Was that a flash of a smile? Yeah, he thought it was. For that brief little window of time, he could see a resemblance to Natalie and his heart clunked. “You’re not going to try to stop the wedding, right?”

He held his breath after asking that question. “I don’t know,” she said, turning and gliding away. Back toward her silver Lexus. “Am I?”

“I’m starting to see where Natalie gets her venom.”

Corinne paused at the driver’s side, looking startled. And a little pleased? “Thank you.”

August shook his head until his future mother-in-law had driven away.

He pushed the tire a lot longer than usual that morning.

*

“Welcome to your officially unofficial bachelorette party.”

Natalie stared at Hallie, trying to make sense of the words that were coming out of her mouth. She’d just walked into a bar named Jed’s that was more than a little out of the way—off Grapevine Way and a good three blocks down a side street. Until a moment ago, when she’d stopped in front of the rustic lodge facade and double-checked the address, she wasn’t aware this place existed.

Before she could respond to Hallie, a loud thud echoed through the buzzing establishment, loud enough to make her jump and spin around. “My God. Is that man throwing an axe?”

“Yes.” Hallie clapped her hands together. “It’s an axe-throwing bar. I’ve been dying to come here and this was the perfect excuse.” She looped her arm with Natalie’s and tugged her through the throng of people in jeans, T-shirts, and flip-flops, making Natalie feel utterly ridiculous in her black silk tunic dress and studded gladiator sandals. “My friend Lavinia got us a table in back where it’s semi-quiet so we can go over the details for Saturday, aka the big day!”

“Great,” Natalie said. “I’m not throwing an axe.”

“You’ll change your mind after a drink or two.”

“Yes, lower my inhibitions, then hand me a weapon. What could go wrong?”

Before Hallie could answer, a woman stepped into her path and enfolded her in a hug, the scent of sugar and chocolate wafting off her clothing with such potency that Natalie’s tastebuds tingled. “Well, if it isn’t the future bride ’erself,” crooned the woman in a thick British accent. “I wanted to rent strippers, but it seems we’ll be getting split in half by axes, instead.”

Natalie couldn’t help but laugh at that. “I suppose both would have been too dangerous?”

The woman tossed back her blond hair. “We can’t have wangs getting chopped off, darling. It’s bad luck before a wedding.”

Hallie ushered them both to a table in the corner. “Natalie, I would introduce you to Lavinia, but I think you’ve just been thoroughly acquainted.”

“Speaking of wangs . . . ” Lavinia continued, dropping into her chair across from Natalie, “it’s nice not to have any around for once. Fuck off, lads. It’s ladies night.”

“How did you pry yourself away from my brother?” Natalie asked Hallie, swallowing a smile.

“Actually, he is kidnapping August as we speak.”

“August?” Natalie breathed. She hadn’t seen him in two days. Not since the Shower. He’d texted her once, asking for guidance on his tuxedo rental. “Should I go with purple or powder blue?” he’d asked. To which she’d replied, “Get one with a bib for those inevitable spills at dinnertime,” accompanied by a baby emoji. He’d also sent a meme about shotgun weddings that depicted a man standing beside a woman at the altar with a gun barrel pressed to his back.

A case of wife or death read the caption.

Ridiculous. Still . . .

Why did hearing his name make her feel awake for the first time in days?

Both women were staring at her. “Uh . . .” Natalie crossed her legs hastily. “Is it even possible to kidnap a Navy SEAL?”

“Maybe he’ll go willingly when he finds out it’s his impromptu bachelor . . .” Hallie hedged. “Well, I would say party, but . . .”

“But it’s my brother and they’ll probably just watch Jeopardy! and eat ham sandwiches?”

“Julian is learning to be more adventurous,” Hallie said, flushing clear up to her temples. “He didn’t mention where they were going, but I’m guessing somewhere quiet where Julian can read August the riot act.”

Natalie frowned. “The riot act?”

“You know . . .” Hallie waved at the waitress. “Hurt my sister and I’ll kill you.”

“Right.” Natalie snorted. “That sounds like Julian.”