Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 107710 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 539(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107710 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 539(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
She was saying too much now. That last part didn’t need to be aired. It was hers. But she couldn’t deny that the pressure in her chest eased on the tail end of the confession.
“Can I please have my keys?” she said quietly. “I need to go.”
August seemed to shake himself, but his attention never strayed from her face. “Sure. Yeah.” He handed them over, but when she turned to leave, he caught her wrist in a loose grip. “Hey, for whatever it’s worth, I know what it’s like to fail. Sank every last dime I had into this place and the bank laughed me out the door when I applied for a loan.”
That gave her pause. “Was his name Ingram Meyer?”
He appeared to search his memory bank. “Yeah. That’s the guy.”
“What a coincidence. He’s my father’s trustee,” Natalie murmured, peering up at the ex-SEAL, seeing him through fresh eyes. Or maybe she was simply looking at him the original way, as she’d done the night they’d met. When he was a perfect gentleman. When they’d gravitated toward each other like magnets.
No. More like the bow of the Titanic speeding toward the iceberg.
He’s the same man who has been an insufferable jerk for months. Finding all of her weak spots and poking them relentlessly. Most likely, he’d softened his demeanor now only because he sensed a chance to get laid. No way was she giving him that satisfaction. Even if it would mean satisfaction for her, too. Somehow she just knew it would. But their obvious chemistry was neither here nor there. This was the end of the road.
“Good luck wherever you land, August,” she murmured, pulling her wrist out of his grip, trying not to show her reaction to his swiping his thumb over her pulse. “If you feel a strong wind behind you on your way out of town, that’s wine country sighing in relief.”
He winked, then sauntered back a few steps with a smirk that never quite reached his eyes. “Maybe. But you were definitely going to kiss me in the bathroom, princess.”
“If I was, it would have been purely to shut you up.”
Not wanting August to get in another jab, Natalie turned and stalked out the door, sidestepping the cat, who’d apparently witnessed the whole conversation and didn’t appear to be the least bit apologetic about assaulting her. She’d almost reached the path leading to the road when August’s voice rang out from across the front yard.
“It’s not too late, Natalie,” he called, echoing his words from the contest a day earlier.
She turned to find August in the doorway of his house, forearms braced on the top of the frame, expression cocky, a swath of stomach muscles on display, biceps popping right, then left, then right. Then left again. Definitely not turning her on.
“Bonehead,” she muttered in the wake of his laughter.
Laughter that died out almost as fast as it started.
Why did her legs feel more and more like rubber as she hiked to the car?
Leaving this man’s company should make her feel free as a bird.
It did.
Right.
With a hard swallow, she slid the keys into the ignition. And after a long pause wherein the most insane idea occurred to her, she started the car with a snort and drove away.
* * *
Later that night, Natalie left the house without really knowing why.
She wasn’t the type to take an evening stroll.
Back in New York, her modus operandi had been to work hard all day and collapse on the couch with a glass of wine at the end of it. Tonight, however, she had an unexplained case of jitters. Hallie and Julian were out on a double date with Hallie’s friends Jerome and Lavinia, meaning she had the entire guest house to herself. She should be ordering an obscene amount of takeout and watching Below Deck reruns, but instead she found herself walking straight out the front door into the fragrant evening in the direction of downtown St. Helena.
Maybe she was in the mood for some atmosphere. People.
A mood lift.
Upon returning home a few months ago, she’d gone on several dates, hoping to find that perfect rebound to occupy her while she wallowed in Napa. But shortly thereafter, dating had totally lost its appeal and she refused to examine why. Refused. She’d swiped left so many times without a good reason that she’d gotten disgusted and deleted Tinder altogether. Man, her phone was a silent, desolate place these days. She should just use it as a paperweight or a doorstop.
The lights of Grapevine Way beckoned as she walked along the dirt path, live jazz music from one of the many cafés winding toward her on the breeze. August was right to question why she preferred the city over this lush valley of grapes and sunshine and merriment. People came from all over to experience the exquisite bliss of St. Helena. But as Natalie stepped onto Grapevine Way and hooked a right, still with no idea of her destination, she couldn’t muster any affection for the town. It was beautiful, classy, inviting. A jewel at the foot of the mountain.