August will leave, she heard Axel’s voice in her head. He’ll find a new project. It’s what he does.
“Don’t forget our business and personal proposal,” August said as he walked alongside her, almost masking his limp although she could see lines of strain on his face that hadn’t been there before. “There were stipulations to being the head winemaker.” His palm drifted down to the small of her back and splayed wide as if claiming territory.
She held herself stiffly and sped up. He matched her stride.
“Twenty-five percent,” she said firmly.
“Fifty.” He smacked her butt. “And a date with the judge. I already have my attorney drawing up the paperwork.”
She stumbled, and his hand, the fingers so temptingly close to her ass, which still smarted sexily, tightened around her waist.
“You’re bluffing.”
“Sure you want to test that? You know me. I don’t do anything at twenty-five percent. I’m all in. Time for you to get with the plan, Cat. Verflucht and me or no deal.”
Chapter Eleven
As the first day of the Bluebonnet Festival began to wind down and dusk was taking hold, Catalina looked around the tent where several wineries as well as a few distilleries had been pouring samples all afternoon. Verflucht had offered tastings of four different wines. The five-dollar tasting fee along with a percentage of the thirty-five cases of wine they’d sold were all being donated to a local charity. Catalina had forgotten which one, but it was so like August to step up and be generous.
Cruz had come by twice to help her pour for a few hours, and even Axel had taken a shift—with Cruz thank God. Still her voice was hoarse from talking—to tourists, newbies to wine and those here touring local wineries and taking pictures of the rolling hills of bluebonnets. She already had twenty-five people signed up for their wine club that as far as she knew didn’t yet exist.
Contentment slid through her. Success. She should be exhausted. Absolutely. Instead energy surged through Cat’s veins like she was connected to a high voltage outlet. The last few days had been filled with purpose, challenge, fun, and most surprising of all, a sense of family that had long eluded her.
She and Cruz often tag-teamed dinner, helped by Diego, who was enthusiastic about everything: chopping, cooking, helping her to clear out the once-thriving garden beds and planning out which vegetables and herbs they would plant. And then Axel and August would grill out: veggie skewers, marinated fish or chicken and, of course, gorgeous steaks, which August resisted and encouraged Axel to cut back on.
“We own a cattle ranch,” Axel noted. “Our beef is highly sought after.”
“But it’s bad for the heart. Look at our dad—dead before he was fifty. And Grandpa.”
Axel had looked like August had struck him. He’d turned away, finished grilling.
“I know you’re fit,” August had tried another night. “But cardiovascular disease runs strong in our family. Grandpa died young and so did Dad.”
Axel had frozen him out. August had mentioned getting a full-body scan and a DNA test.
“You’re twenty-eight, not sixty-eight,” Axel had scorned, turning over the steaks that smelled so appetizing Catalina had barely been able to wait for dinner.
She smiled, remembering the exchange earlier in the week. Cat had always loved how August admired his older brother. He’d been a thorn in Axel’s paw, but she’d always thought it was sweet how August wanted attention and respect from his older brother. Her brothers had never been protective. They’d lived to torment and terrorize her. Even today she’d seen both Ben and Bo lurking around the tent—eying the tip jar and the cash she’d been stuffing in a box although most of their sales were either using a Square or Venmo.
And her father had come by without her brothers, acting friendly but his eyes had held a threat. She’d let him torment her enough as a child. If she stayed it was going to be because she wanted to, not because she let someone or something chase her away.
It felt strange being back in Last Stand. But good. She’d missed Texas—the heat, the sky, the feel of the sun and breezes on her skin and the rolling hills of flowers in early spring. She just felt right in a way she hadn’t in a long time.
She looked down at her worn cowboy boots. She’d taken a lot of heat for them in Oregon. Most wore Romeos or boots that were tighter around the ankle, as vineyards were notoriously rough to walk. But she’d always been a cowboy boots girl.
And Texas wasn’t the only thing that was starting to feel right.
That was the piece she didn’t know what to do with.
She was starting to glean enough knowledge about the vineyard and the crew and the direction she wanted to go to feel comfortable.
But what to do about August?
She’d be lying if she said she didn’t want him.
And that scared her because this current state of tension and do-I-don’t I wasn’t going to last. Change was coming. And part of her couldn’t wait.
What did that say about her?
“Masochist,” she breathed out the word as she watched the crew from Outlaw Tequila pack up for the night.
She stretched up on her tiptoes and then bent down to touch her toes. She loved the pop of a few joints and the satisfying stretch of her muscles.
She began to stack the cases so she and August and a couple of the vineyard workers could load them into the back of the winery truck tonight and replenish the supply to pour more wine all over again tomorrow.
She had a bottle of Malbec that was more than half full.
“Now that’s a nice end to a long day.” She smiled and unscrewed the cap—she’d been surprised that Derek had agreed to go with screw caps as he was traditional, but it was a cheaper way to bottle—less loss from oxygenated wine—and also easier for the consumer to open, consume and then close up if they didn’t finish.
She poured a little bit more of a taste and palmed the glass, savoring the color and the ripe scent of berries.
“I’ve heard it’s bad form to drink alone.” Cruz and Axel breezed through the tent, her dark hair flying and her black eyes flashing. She looked a little out of breath and Catalina wondered if they’d already enjoyed a few dances. She felt a pang of envy mix with the happiness for her new friend. “I’ve come to help load up, and since Axel got clever and sent Diego home with one of the ranch hands so we could listen to the band and dance, let’s bust this job out. But I’m happy to help you drain any remaining inventory.”
Catalina poured Cruz a healthy portion and her gaze challenged Axel. “Would you like some?”
“I’m driving,”
She nearly rolled her eyes, but she liked Cruz, and she didn’t need an enemy in Axel. She watched him load up some cases on the hand-cart. She was going to have to make a truce.
Ha! Maturity.
“So,” she teased when Axel wheeled the cart toward the truck, “you and Axel?”
They clicked plastic glasses.
“Won’t catch me kissing and telling.” Cruz swung her long hair over her shoulder. “But I will admit that man was impossible to forget and my memories—hot as they were—did not begin to do him justice.” Cruz took a healthy gulp of wine. “One more thing to savor about Texas.”
“TMI! I’ve known him since we were kids.”
And he hadn’t been all that friendly then, but today, seeing him with Diego, playing some of the games and helping out with the 4-H booth and the cattlemen’s fundraiser, had given her a different view of Axel. He’d seemed more approachable.
“You’ve known August just as long, and that doesn’t seem to bother you. I saw the way you watched his ass when he was loading and unloading wine.”
“We’re only friends. I was making sure he wasn’t reinjuring himself.” Catalina nearly choked on her wine.
“Is that what friendly concern looks like?” Cruz laughed. “I thought you were trying to burn a hole in the butt of his jeans. Seriously, you looked like you were deep in prayer at ch
urch and totally enraptured as he expounded eloquently on the wine’s bouquet and flavor. Great tasting notes, by the way. You trained him well.”
“August could sell dry dirt to a drought-stricken farmer.” She avoided Cruz’s searching, amused gaze. “Are you and Axel really going to go back and dance some more and stay for the second band?”
What was she doing? Feeling them out to see how long they’d have the house to themselves?
Yikes. Besides, there was Diego to consider.
Calm down.
“Absolutely. When we’d meet up at different rodeos each summer I was barrel racing, he would always take me out to honky-tonks and dance halls. We didn’t drink much, but we’d dance to close the place down. And you’d better hope there’s no karaoke night at the Last Stand Saloon or you and I are going to form a posse for a regular girls’ night out. I haven’t had one in years.”
Catalina wasn’t sure she’d ever had one, and she didn’t have the excuse of raising a child alone, working and going to school.
“I’m in,” she said. “Maybe you can persuade August to put one in his precious tasting room when it gets rebuilt.”
“Persuade me to do what?” August asked.
“Karaoke in the tasting room.” Catalina laughed.
“Not the vibe I was going for.” He stopped, his face almost comical in dismay. “Is that what you want?”
“What if I do?”
She didn’t. Definitely not. But maybe this was as good a test as any to see how much control he was really prepared to relinquish.
“Can we discuss it after we eat? I was thinking barbeque. The smell has been tormenting me all day, and if I don’t eat, I’m going to start gnawing on the cardboard wine storage boxes.”
They began loading the truck that Juan, one of the cellar crew, had retrieved from the parking lot and backed up to the vendor area.
Catalina watched the red glow of the taillights as he drove away, and suddenly felt nervous. They’d been so busy and focused all week—August dogging nearly her every step as he learned more about the business than he’d likely anticipated, as if to prove that yes, he was here to stay.
He hadn’t mentioned marriage again.
Total relief.
Although somehow the words fell flat, which made her want to kick herself.
And he hadn’t kissed her again.
Even she admitted she was disappointed about that.
But the awareness was there, especially in the silences when they were together in the vineyard or in the winery, the rest of the crew busy elsewhere.
Axel and Cruz headed toward the stage where the opening band had launched already into their second song.
“Great day.” August wrapped his arms around her and rested his head on her shoulder as they watched Cruz and Axel walk in perfect sync across the grass. They didn’t touch, but they looked like they belonged together. Two tall, dark, beautiful people.
Had she and August ever looked like that—a pair?
“You tired, Cat?” August asked. “You’ve been working flat out for the past week.”
One hand was now on her shoulder and he began a slow massage along her neck, and she could feel the tension release, even as her heart rate kicked up at his nearness.
“So have you. And you’ve had to go into town to meet with the insurance company and the contractor and the structural engineers. And I’m sure you are fielding calls from your various managers. We lived together for a short time so I know how busy your various enterprises keep you. You’re very hands on.”
“I am,” he agreed as his hand spanned low on her hips and drew her in flush with his body, her back to his front. He continued the massage. Her blood heated, and her eyes closed. She’d forgotten this. How strong his hands were. How he’d often massage her without even being asked.
“I understand when we’re working with the crew that you want to keep a more professional distance, Cat, but when we’re alone, you’re mine.”
She wanted to be. She did. And she wanted to sink into his body and be a part of his life and his family so much, but she was afraid.
“What are you afraid of, Cat? What’s holding you back?”
“I’m afraid of being hurt again,” she whispered. “I can’t…I know it sounds weak, but I don’t think I can go through that again. I’m so tired of being alone.”
She felt him stiffen behind her. He hesitated. She waited for him to let go of her. Instead his mouth dropped to her neck sending shivers down her spine.
“I’m staying, Cat.” August cut to the heart of her rambling. “This is my base of operation. Last Stand is home. You, you’re home. I’ll say it a hundred times if you need me to.”
“Saying it won’t help, August. You’ll need to do it.”
“You can count on it, Cat. I’m staying.”
Could she trust him? She so wanted to, but doubt still niggled.
He nipped her shoulder. “Stop thinking so much. Everything is going to work out for us. You’ll see. We’ll be a great team. We’ll be happy.”
But Cat couldn’t fail to notice that he didn’t say anything about love. He never had. She had been the one who had had to learn to hold the words that so naturally wanted to be sung.
“And now time to feed you.” He pressed kisses along the vertebrae in her neck. “You taste delicious, but I think you’ll be crabby if I start taking a few small bites.”
*
August brought enough food for a family and watched, amused and aroused as Cat ignored the napkins stacked on the empty wine barrel they were using as a table in the Verflucht section of the alcohol tent and licked her fingertips.
“I could lick you clean,” he offered.
She smiled, and his heart kicked over. He’d always liked her quick grin that squinted her unusual colored eyes and tilted them up at the corners, which made it look like her whole face was smiling. He hadn’t seen that smile in a long time, he realized with an unexpected pang.
He was all about the future. Moving forward. Learning from the past mistakes, yes, but always focused forward.
Except with Cat.
She dragged him back.
And maybe that was why he’d fought the idea of a future with her—so much of who they were was rooted in the past. But he’d come home now to face his demons, he supposed, and to build a relationship with Axel that finally seemed poised to progress beyond head-bobbed greetings and stilted silences.
His phone buzzed in his pocket. Again. Damn. It had been blowing up all day. The whole week had posed one issue after another, which he’d managed to handle mostly subtly and privately. Hard to prove to Cat that he was committing to Verflucht and making Last Stand his base of operations when his crews in Montana, Oregon, Colorado, Idaho and Washington continued to check in and run concerns and problems by him. And now there was a new, unexpected and highly intriguing opportunity in Colorado. He was very interested, but wanted to hold off on further expansions until he had his relationship with Cat settled and Verflucht up and running. Sure he knew he’d still have to travel to check in with his various properties and get some face time in at all of his properties under the Wolf Cowboy brand, but right now, his priority was fixing the mess he’d made with Cat.
That stopped him cold. Cat. He’d thought of her first, not Verflucht. Not fixing things with his brothers. Cat. She was the critical piece. He had to treat her like that. Show her. Not behave as he had before—like she’d always be there for him when it was convenient.
All the more reason he probably should have held off on the latest acquisition in Hood River, but the property and its possibilities had proved too tempting to walk away from. And he probably could have dealt with the complications and juggling if he hadn’t lost his tasting room and vineyard management crew.
But then he wouldn’t have Cat.
God, he’d been so stupid. So ambitious. Always thinking they’d have plenty of time to get it right.
Time’s up.
He h
ad to prove to her that she mattered—more than her skills as a winemaker and her work ethic and her natural warmth and kindness. She would have to come first in a way she never had before.
“I’m happy you’re here,” he said softly as he watched her nibble on another rib. Damn she was sexy when she ate, which made him wish she had something else in her mouth.
His phone vibrated again. Jaw clenched, he barely resisted taking it out of his pocket and hurling it across the tent or jamming it deep into the dirt of the potted olive trees Cat had planted, strung with lights and brought to the tent as part of the decoration.
The trees made him feel like he was in Tuscany.
“You ever going to answer that?” Cat asked. “I’m surprised it hasn’t rubbed a hole in your pocket by now.”
Damn. She was aware of the demands Wolf Cowboy still made on him.
“Or are you using it as some kind of a sex toy?” Again, she smiled, but her gaze was wary, walls up. “You should maybe answer it, August.” Her voice was low and husky and was definitely making him think of things not related to work at all. “It could be important.”
Of course it was important. He was running a multimillion-dollar company. He had skilled, experienced management teams in place. No one called him for bullshit reasons, especially this week. They knew better.
But he had to stay committed and on target. Cat deserved his full attention. This was too critical. He’d screwed up before. He’d been chasing the wrong dream.
“Nothing’s more important than what we’ve got going on right here, Cat.”
She drank quickly from her water bottle and now wiped her hands on a napkin.
“I know you have a lot of other businesses that demand your attention, August. I know that Verflucht is just…one more.”
“I’m not talking about Verflucht. And I’m not talking about Wolf Cowboy. I’m thinking about us.”
She nervously rubbed her lips together, and then moistened them with the tip of her pink tongue.
He groaned and leaned across the wine barrel, cupped his hand behind her head and reeled her in for a kiss.
A Bride for the Texas Cowboy Page 15