Unfortunately Yours: A Novel (Vine Mess Book 2)
Unfortunately Yours: Chapter 23

Natalie would say this for August.

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.

Then again . . . maybe it was?

They’d been married for only six days. Maybe it was totally within his character to leave before she woke up without any prior warning. And not just to push his tire—but to leave. Off the property. She’d gone looking for him around the house and in both barns, the unsettled feeling in her stomach yawning wider by the moment. Was something wrong? Did he have an emergency? Why didn’t he wake her up to help?

Then she’d finally found the note, attached to her favorite coffee mug.

Went to see Sam.

Until that moment, she’d never speculated on when August might bring her to see Sam. Or if he ever would. But as close as they’d been yesterday and last night, the way she’d been so vulnerable with him, August going to the cemetery alone felt a little like being shut out. Again. Perhaps it wasn’t a rational reaction, but tell that to her heart while it sank like a setting sun. August had a whole private part of his life, his grief, and he guarded it like a lion.

It was a part of him she’d never touch. She just had to accept that.

She’d just given herself to this man, not only in name now, but emotionally.

Less than a day later, she felt as if he’d dropped her without a safety net.

Reluctantly, she started her car and pulled out of the parking space in front of the bank. She didn’t feel like going home, though. To August’s house. It was too quiet without him there and she was looking for some reassurance, not more questions.

To be fair, she should have known that the Vos estate was the last place she should go. Maybe she was a masochist or maybe she had a tiny bit of hope that her relationship with Corinne was getting stronger. She’d surprised her mother with her research on VineWatch, right? Plus, if she and Corinne could relate to each other about anything, it was a man disappointing them. So home she went, with a frisson of hope in her chest.

It was doused the moment she pulled into the circular driveway and she saw two hybrids parked outside. The VineWatch logo was silk-screened onto their windows. Two men and one woman in khakis and navy blue polo shirts had just alighted from the vehicles. And Julian and Corinne were approaching them to shake hands.

She’d obviously just crashed their meeting.

A meeting they were having without her. As if she should be surprised.

Yet, she was? Obviously, she still had the capacity to be hurt by her family, because her stomach turned completely around and all she could do was stare.

Julian must have caught sight of her, because he was suddenly standing beside the driver’s-side window, signaling for her to roll it down.

“Hey,” he said warmly. “I’m glad Corinne decided to invite you to the meeting. I told her—”

“She didn’t invite me,” Natalie said dully. “I’m here by accident.”

If that didn’t sum up how she felt about everything, this entire day, maybe her entire life at this very moment in time, nothing did.

Julian straightened his tie, openly befuddled. “I see. She didn’t want to interrupt your first week as a married couple with business. For the record, I knew you’d want to be here—”

“It doesn’t matter, Julian,” she said, sounding numb. Feeling hollow.

What am I doing in this stupid town?

Nothing had changed. She would always be the odd one out. In her family. In her marriage. New York was the only place she’d ever been a consideration to others. It was the only place her input had ever been valued.

Not here.

Never here.

“I have a business meeting tonight in New York, so I’ll be wining and dining a tech billionaire at Scarpetta if anyone needs me,” she said, putting the car in reverse, blowing off her brother’s request that she stay and talk. She ignored the phone when it started to ring on the way home, too. August. When her mother started calling, as well, she turned the device off altogether. And it felt good. It felt good to slip back into that mindset of her early twenties, when she’d needed no one but herself. Natalie against the world.

They wouldn’t even miss her.

Thank God she’d never called Claudia to cancel the meeting with William Banes Savage.

As soon as Natalie walked through the door of August’s house, she opened her laptop and swapped her midafternoon flight for the next possible plane to New York. Feeling in control for the first time in months, she sent the boarding pass to her phone and tucked the laptop into her purse. One hour until she needed to leave for the airport and August still wasn’t home. Was he having a hard time with the visit to Sam?

Not my problem. He’s made that clear.

Pain carved a slice out of her chest, calling her a liar. She had to pause in the act of packing her small carry-on bag in order to breathe. It seemed that shutting herself off from August wasn’t going to be an easy process. Not like it had been before, with her ex. With every ex, really. If recovering from breakups was an Olympic sport, she would have medaled in all events. Vaulting over the truth. Sprinting away from accountability.

She wouldn’t win gold so easily in the August relay race.

Her chest was a dumpster fire. And leaving for the airport without saying goodbye wasn’t going to give her the vindication she wanted. The way she kept staring at the front door of the house, hoping he would walk through it, made that obvious.

The barn caught her eye through the window. Off-limits. She wasn’t allowed to go in there and mess with his fermentation process.

Well, too bad.

Natalie shoved her feet into some flats and stomped out of the bedroom, stepping over the sprawled cat on her way to the front door. She yanked it open, hating the way hope that August’s truck would be parked outside rose in her chest. It was not. There was nothing but an empty slab of concrete decorated with oil stains.

With her heart in her mouth, she paraded into the barn. She was surprised to find that the farther she ventured into August’s off-limits workshop, the more the bowstrings inside her chest loosened. Sure, she didn’t have his express consent to be in there, among his things, but she’d never consented to him making her fall in love with him, only to be compartmentalized. Kept at a distance. Close but not too close, the way her family kept her.

August wasn’t supposed to do that to her, too.

Natalie realized she was staring across the rows of oak barrels through a veil of tears. Her nose was on fire and those flames followed a trail of kerosine to the dead center of her chest, lighting up that sad, suffering organ and turning it to ashes. Partially.

Some part of it must have remained beating, because she swiped at her nose and pulled out the stopper from the first barrel, immediately recognizing the need for filtration.

Nobody wanted her help, especially August.

Well, that was too damn bad, wasn’t it?

*  *  *

I fell asleep. How could I fall asleep with her waiting for me?

How could I do that?

When August pulled into his usual spot outside the house, his stomach was already a bubbling cauldron of acid. Because she wouldn’t answer his calls, they went straight to voice mail and now, her blue hatchback was gone. Natalie’s car. Was gone.

He dove out of the truck and without missing a beat, started shouting, “Natalie.”

She wasn’t inside the house. He knew it, because if she was anywhere in the vicinity, he would feel that welcome presence. Despite that intuition, he almost kicked down the door of the house, because his fingers wouldn’t work well enough to unlock it, shouting her name the whole time.

When he got inside, it was dead silent. Menace sat perched on the edge of a dining room chair, her expression nothing short of a narrow-eyed accusation. Panic rising, he took out his phone and called Natalie, cursing a blue streak when it went to voice mail again. Maybe she’d just gone to Vos Vineyard? Maybe she’d been pissed off at him enough to move some of her things back to the guest house? Because, yeah. His wife was not in the bedrooms or the bathroom and her fucking toothbrush was gone‚ a fact that made his windpipe shrink to the size of a pinhole.

“No. No, no, no . . .”

Julian would know if she’d gone to the guest house.

He’d call Julian.

August didn’t notice his hand was shaking until he hit the number for Natalie’s brother. “Yes?” answered the professor on the second ring.

“Is Natalie there?” August barked into the receiver.

“She was. But she left.” A long pause, some creaking. “That was over two hours ago. She’s not answering your calls, either?”

“If she was, I wouldn’t be calling you!”

“Good point,” Julian said—and August really, really didn’t like the fact that this normally unflappable dude sounded worried. “All right. Take a deep breath. She was obviously upset, I just didn’t think she’d really leave—”

“She’s upset because I missed our meeting at the bank this morning. I know. I went to visit Sam and I couldn’t hear him anymore and I fell asleep. She wouldn’t just leave because of the meeting, though. Would she? She’d be here to fight with me. She’s supposed to be here.”

Julian remained silent a little too long.

“What?” August asked, dread curdling his blood.

“Corrine and I had a meeting with VineWatch this morning. It started just after nine A.M. When Natalie showed up in the driveway, I assumed she was here for the meeting. But my mother hadn’t invited her.” He cursed under his breath. “I should have done it myself.”

August was frozen in the middle of the kitchen floor. “Why wouldn’t you invite Natalie to a meeting with VineWatch? She knows that company inside and out. Better than both of you put together.”

“You’re right. She does.”

How was he still breathing with a fifty-ton anvil sitting on his chest. “So . . .” His swallow got stuck. “So you’re telling me I missed the appointment at the bank. And then she showed up at Vos and found out you were having a meeting without her.”

My wife.

My wife.

We crushed her. I crushed her.

August was back outside now and the chill of panic had taken firm hold of his jugular and both lungs. Barn. She wouldn’t be in the barn, but he had to look anyway.

He’d asked her not to go in there. Now he was desperate to find her inside.

Funny how fast things could change.

No. It wasn’t funny at all. He’d asked her to keep out of this place where he performed the ritual of winemaking in honor of his friend. He’d refused to involve her, just like her family. Pushed her away where it counted, while expecting her to come closer physically and emotionally. All the while . . .

He’d been the one putting up the barrier.

“Oh my God, I’m such a fucking moron.”

“August . . .” Julian sighed. “I haven’t told you the worst part. She said she was going to New York. Having a dinner meeting at some place called Scarpetta. It’s hard to tell if Natalie is being serious sometimes, but obviously . . . she went.”

Jesus. No. In the middle of the barn, August’s legs weakened. He dragged his hand down his face and viewed the barn and all of his equipment through raw, gritty eyes.

No wonder my wine sucks. It needed her. I needed her.

He was no better than her family. She’d tried so hard to get in, to be important to them, until eventually she gave up. He’d been so outraged on her behalf. Who could keep their distance from someone so incredible and smart and dynamic and lively . . . ?

Meanwhile he’d done the exact same thing.

He’d rejected her help. He’d rejected her. Denied them a chance to be closer because he insisted on feeling his way alone in the dark. He was like a man who refused to pull over and ask for directions, but a hundred times worse, because being valued, considered . . . it meant so much to his Natalie. He was supposed to be her safe place, but he’d been hurting her all along.

Now she was gone.

Somehow August knew something had changed before he even reached the row of barrels—and after pulling out a few stoppers, the difference was obvious. The wine had lost a lot of its cloudiness. Was less sluggish. And the taste wasn’t a 100 percent improvement—not so soon—but by God, it was a hell of a lot better.

She could have been helping all along. And his stupid pride had kept her locked out.

“I fucked up,” he croaked into the phone, falling forward onto his elbows. “I have to go.”

“August, wait.” August barely had the strength to keep the phone pressed to his ear. “It wasn’t so long ago that I almost ruined things with Hallie. I know you must feel like absolute shit right now. God knows I do—”

August wailed something unintelligible.

“My mother and I both owe Natalie a serious apology. But you’re the one who has to reach her right now. Act sooner than I did with Hallie. You’ll have less of a hole to dig out of.”

“I’ve been digging a hole from day one, man. I’ve reached China at this point.”

“Start climbing out of it now.” Julian paused. “Women have the capacity for forgiveness and compassion that men will never fully grasp. She might decide to spare your life.”

That’s exactly what it would be. Sparing his life. He could already feel the will to live deserting him slowly. “I’m in love with your sister. I love her so much.”

“We’ve established this.”

“She’s only been gone for a little while and I already miss her so much—”

“August, this is getting weird.”

“Okay. Sorry.” He cleared his throat, tried to put some steel in his voice, but it sounded suspiciously like a sniffle. “Later, man.”

“Goodbye, August. And good luck.”

August dropped the device and buried his head in his hands. “Goddammit.”

She’d gone to New York. Three thousand miles out of his reach.

Then you better get your ass to the airport, roared Sam’s voice, back and louder than ever. They probably don’t have any extra legroom seats left, but you’ll survive.

If August could have plucked those words out of the ether and crushed them to his chest, he never would have let go. Of course Sam had gone silent. August’s conscience had probably been blocking those mental echoes from coming through.

Come on, August, you can make this right. I believe in you.

That final dose of confidence from his best friend was exactly what he needed to sprint toward the house. If his wife was on the opposite coast, that was where he needed to be, too.

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