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)
“Don’t worry, it won’t happen again.”
Dripping wet, hair stuck to the side of her face, Natalie propelled herself out from behind the curtain and started snatching clothes up off the floor.
“Hold up. Can we rewind a second?” August said behind her, cursing under his breath. “I’m not good at arguing while my dick is in eggplant form. By the way, this was never a problem until I met you. My whole fucking system is out of whack.” He whipped a towel off the rack and wrapped it around his waist, then raked frustrated hands through his hair. “I just . . . Look. I’m a little touchy about . . . pity. Being pitied over Sam dying. You know? I have a hard time accepting it from anyone. But especially you.”
Natalie paused in the act of fastening her bra. “Why especially me?”
“I don’t know. I grew up working for everything I had. I was taught to be proud of making ends meet. Grinding. The affluent Napa crowd looks down on that.”
“And I’m a great big representation of this place to you.”
He dragged a hand down his face. “Shit. I need to shut up until there is some blood back in my fucking head. I just keep making this worse.”
“You think I can’t grind? You think I can’t work hard?” Stop, girl. She really needed to quit talking. She had a goal and was working on securing the means to achieve that goal. There was no room for side trips or rabbit holes. Still, she’d had it up to her eyeballs in implications from this man that she was a pampered princess who didn’t know the value of a day’s work. Especially right on the heels of that phone call with Dalton. “I could turn Zelnick Cellar into an operational winery with a decent vintage with one hand tied behind my back.”
His muscles stiffened. “Look, the loan is one thing. But the hands-on stuff? That’s mine. For Sam. I didn’t ask for your help making his wine.” Then he added quietly, almost contritely, “Please. Just stay out of the barn. Okay?”
Out of everything they argued about, why did his rejecting her aid seem to hit the bull’s-eye?
“I need to be an official employee at Zelnick Cellar to fulfill the other condition of my trust fund,” she reminded him, trying to keep the sting of his denial out of her voice. “And employing me, having my name tied to your wine, helps get you a loan. I don’t like being a member of this dysfunctional team any more than you do, but let’s not go through this for nothing. Use my knowledge as well.” She gave him a meaningful look, yet she knew he probably wouldn’t understand the importance of her being allowed to help. “I won’t ask again, August. I don’t like to repeat myself.”
“Sure about that? You’ve called me a dumbass at least ninety-four times.”
Yup. Her words had gone in one ear and out the other.
“There are exceptions to every rule.”
“Good. Especially if there is a rule against kissing my fake wife.”
“As it happens, there is.”
His jaw flexed. “Can’t wait to break it.”
“I’ll break your ugly nose before that happens,” she snorted, stepping out of the bathroom into the hallway, sandals cradled to her chest.
“Wait. I thought we were going to talk about wedding stuff,” August boomed, following behind her, his giant, wet feet slapping on the floorboards. “What time are we meeting at the courthouse on Saturday?”
“We’re not.”
“What?” She looked back over her shoulder to find him stricken. “Just like that, the whole thing is off? I blew it?”
Every once in a while, a comment slipped through the cracks that made her very aware that he was lovable just under the surface. Why couldn’t he keep that fact hidden? It made her want to turn and walk into his stupid muscular arms and whack him in the head with an encyclopedia at the exact same time.
And, dammit, her anger at him took a drastic nosedive.
Natalie picked up speed, heading toward the door. “Relax, we’re still getting married.” She stopped. “I did want to get your thoughts on the timeline. Considering everyone knows about our public fight and subsequent engagement, they probably assume it’s going to be volatile and flame out fast. One month should be enough time to achieve our goals before . . .”
August narrowed his eyes. “Before what?”
“Before we end it, of course. Legally.” He said nothing. “Are we agreed on one month?”
When he only remained silent, she had no choice but to accept his lack of argument as a yes. What else could he possibly say? He thought they should stay married longer?
“So, um. My mother has taken the lead on planning. That’s mainly what I came here to tell you. Tradition and keeping up appearances, those things are important to her. It’s probably going to be the snobbiest event this town has ever seen. Swans and harps and canapés on gilded platters. You’ll need to rent a tux.” She paused with her hand on the door. “I understand if you have second thoughts.”