Unfortunately Yours (A Vine Mess, #2)

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.

“Hello. This is Natalie Cates for Ingram Meyer, please?”

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.

“Thank you. Yes. I’m sure it’s fine.” She looked across the front yard to find August stepping out into the sunlight, pouring a thermos of water over his head. An unexpected swelling hit her in the dead center of her chest, her heart pumping so fast she struggled through an indrawn breath. Love. For better or worse, she was in love. “I’m actually calling about the loan appointment for August. Are you sure you can’t sneak us in this week?”

*

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.

“Hey,” he said, feeling totally and utterly tongue-tied in the presence of her looking so . . . relaxed. Soft in a loose denim dress with gold buttons down the front, hair in some kind of knot that looked like it could fall out at any moment. Maybe if he kissed her, it would just tumble down? Hell yeah. Sounded like a great idea to him.

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?” she prompted, her smile turning puzzled.

“Yeah, princess. Tomorrow morning at eight thirty sounds good.”

*

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.