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Trust your gut, son.
“Do your worst, Natalie.” She wrinkled her nose at his wine. “But you’re already so good at being the worst.” August huffed a laugh. “Too bad they’re not giving out a prize for sharpest fangs. You’d be unmatched.” “Are you comparing me to a vampire? Because your wine is what sucks.”
What the hell was he supposed to say? That he’d seen her across the room at that stupid Wine Down Napa event and felt like he’d had an arrow shot into his chest by a flying baby? That his palms had sweat because of a woman for the first time ever that night? He’d already been in that Viennese countryside holding a picnic basket in one hand and an acoustic guitar in the other. God, she was so beautiful and interesting and fucking hilarious. Where had she been all his life?
“Go to hell, August Cates.” His stomach bottomed out, leaving him almost too winded for a reply. “Hell, huh? Your old stomping grounds, right?”
“Best for you to stay away from mirrors.” He dropped his shirt with a snort. “Don’t act like you weren’t ready to climb me like a ladder, princess.” No lies detected. That was then, however. This was now. “Shame you had to open your mouth, isn’t it?” August dragged his tongue along his full bottom lip. “You would have loved my mouth.”
“I must not smell that bad,” he said against the side of her neck, his lips brushing that sensitive patch beneath her ear, warm breath coasting down the collar of her shirt—and that arm. It flexed where it banded across her belly, making hidden parts of her tense, too, in the process. “You know. Since you’re melting on me like an M&M on the dashboard of a hot car.”
I’m better elsewhere. I’m something. I’m someone when I’m not here. After the shock of hearing that breathy confession had worn off, he’d just gotten mad. Who the fuck made her feel like that? How long had she been feeling like crap without his knowing about it?
Natalie wasn’t a simple combination of colors, she was an ever-changing kaleidoscope he couldn’t seem to stop peering into.
He surprised her by pressing their foreheads together. “Natalie.” “What?” Three seconds passed. Four. “I will never, ever let you down again. Is that clear?”
“If you don’t directly ask me for sex, I’ll respect that. But if you want to be fucked, you’re going to get it. Period, the end.”
Before she could open her mouth, however, he dropped into the deep swivel chair, stretched his long legs out, and patted his thigh. “Your throne awaits, princess.”
“Fine.” He sighed, running a hand down his tie. “You can grope me.” “You mispronounced ‘strangle.’”
“I should probably just keep my mouth shut,” he said, his voice lower by several octaves, “so I don’t say anything to fuck this up.” “That would be the smartest thing you’ve ever done.”
“Ten minutes or ten years celibate, I’d still be hard with that butt in position for a good time, Natalie.
I don’t lose. Not when I’m challenged.” A rumble went off in his chest. “Getting that mouth on mine won’t be a loss.”
“I can’t believe you waited until we’re on a train full of people to kiss me again.” His teeth closed around the shell of her ear and razed up and down, up and down. “Maybe you did it on purpose because you know exactly what we’d be doing if we were alone.” “Fighting?” “Fucking.”
“What are you going to do about it?” “Cry, probably.” A laugh hopscotched out of her. A genuine giggle at his strained admission. Eyes closed, he smiled against her mouth.
“Come back here,” he rasped, studying her. “Torture me. I can take it.”
His chest rose and fell on a pained laugh. “You’ll have to give me a minute. Or . . . sixty. For this thing to go down.” “In that case, definitely don’t think about me going down,” she said, fluttering her eyelashes. “Natalie,” he gritted out.
He’d made her feel almost . . . peaceful. Protected. How could the same man who made her want to screech like a banshee get that reaction out of her? No way to know. But the effect of him . . . lingered. Hard.
“You’re a little nuts, aren’t you, Hallie?” “I wrote your brother secret admirer letters and got jealous when he wrote me back.”
He needed to listen instead of just reacting.
“I don’t like you feeling less than great.
But there are certain things in life that require patience and diligence. You must have learned some of that lesson already, if you’ve convinced that woman to marry you.”
“Are those your tits?” “No, they’re somebody else’s.”
“You know I’m going to catch you.”
Was this jealousy? She couldn’t remember. Hadn’t felt it since high school. Not about anything that wasn’t job related, at least. “I’m not admitting that out loud.” “The murder in your eyes did it for you.”
Yours. I don’t look right or left. No exceptions. Got that?”
Pride is something that can be kept. Love is too often squandered when you give it away. People might be careless with your love, but they can’t touch your pride. Or put it on their shelf like a trophy. It’s yours.”
“But love seems more important now.” Don’t ask why. “Why?” “Because I can tell you don’t believe in it. And I want you to.”
Love means letting go of your pride, after all.”
It is a universal truth that people don’t make the best decisions while drinking alcohol.
Her heart. I’m responsible.
I’m going to figure us out, he told her with the kiss, meaning it with every breath in his body. I’m going to marry you, make this work.
“Can you please come over here, Natalie?” he said. “Why?” “People are throwing axes in here.” “Way to recognize the theme.” She waved him off. “I’m fine.” “Please? I’d like to be close enough to step in front of you if necessary.”
“If he bailed that quickly, Natalie, he never had enough integrity to deserve you in the first place.”
“Nice of you to show up.” “Aw,” he drawled. “Were you getting worried?” “That you slipped in a puddle of your own caveman drool and hit your head? Yes. I was.” His smile showed off a row of strong, white teeth. “Were you able to get a dress made of Dalmatian fur on short notice?” “Had one in my closet already, as a matter of fact. I just had to find a good man.” The corners of her mouth lifted. “And by good, I mean standing upright, with a pulse.” “Gosh, Natalie. You sure know how to make an Adonis feel special.” “It is our wedding day, after all.” Now that she’d made sure they were on even
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Sobbing
“Natalie Vos. Wow. Here we are. Getting married.” He turned the paper toward her so she could see he’d written those exact words, before going back to reading. “I promise to take your side in every argument—unless it’s the one you’re having with me, then it’s fair game. But the point I’m trying to make is that we might fight . . .” He scanned the room with a pointed look. “But God help anyone else who tries to fight with you. They will answer to me.” Oh . . . my God. Why were her eyes burning? This wasn’t even real. Why did his speech feel . . . important? Why did the whole day feel
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“Thanks for having my back, man. I forgot about the whole thing with the photographer.” “I didn’t.” Julian swirled his wine. “I also remember when she threw wine in your face and you only looked angry at yourself for arguing with her in the first place.” “Yeah, that sounds like me.” Julian shook his head. Sighed. “You’re in love with her.”
Was he in love with Natalie? No idea. If the key to her happiness was at the bottom of the ocean, he’d strap on some flippers and goggles to dive down and get it. If she showed any signs of illness, even a common cold, he would consider bringing her to the ER. If she asked him to dress like Zack Morris at Halloween so she could dress like Kelly Kapowski . . . he’d already have suggested it first. Did all of that equal love? To him? Yes. He loved her. Really, really bad.
“And if you hurt her, I’ll break your nose.” “Heard you the first two times.”
“In your wildest dreams, Cates.” “In your wildest dreams, Cates.”
His team would love her. They’d worship the ground she walked on for not putting up with his crap but occasionally giving in, wouldn’t they?
“We fail at the lift, I become your servant. We succeed . . .” He pressed and dragged his thumbs along the curve of her hip bones, tugging her close by the skirt of the wedding dress. “What?” she said, though he could only read her lips as he looked down at them from above. She must have been whispering. “I give you a proper wedding night,” he said. She huffed an incredulous laugh. “Pretty sure that’s a prize for you.” He brought his mouth to her ear and felt his own eyelids grow heavy at the waft of her scent. “No lies detected. I’m gonna love going down on you, princess.”
Ran right toward him in a wedding dress and heels. The man didn’t even blink. He simply caught her around the waist and lifted her up over his head, turning her in a slow circle, giving her a lopsided smile from below. “Don’t say it,” she whispered. “Don’t ruin it.” “Nobody puts Natalie in a corner,” he blurted, followed by that rich, abandoned laugh that collided with her groan. “It’s out of my system, I swear.” “Too late, I’m already flooded with regrets.”
Round one: call him babe. Round two: offer to bear him sons. “I’d be happy with a son or daughter.” He grinned. “As long as they’re happy and healthy, right?” Right. Great. She’d been talking out loud.
“Come here,” he rasped, pulling her backward into his lap and drawing the zipper down slowly. “I’ve got you.” She had him, too.
“When you’re fucked, you’re fucked,” he muttered thickly, seemingly to himself.
“Bite harder,” he said, laboring to breathe, his hands dropping away from the belt. “Harder, please.”
August was sending a clear message and it read Holy shit, I’ve never been touched so right. Never felt anything this good.
