by Jaci Burton
“Finn.”
“Yeah.”
“You know this is just four days. At the end of those days, this ring is going back to you.”
“Yup. Got it. But for four days we’re engaged, and you wear that ring. Got it?”
She nodded and looked down at her hand. He could tell she liked wearing it, kept staring at it on her hand. For now, that worked for him.
The rest they’d figure out later.
CHAPTER
• • • • • •
eight
BRENNA HAD TO recover the ability to breathe. And to think.
It was just a ring. Not symbolic in any way.
Except their engagement was fake. And this ring was anything but. It was Finn’s mother’s ring. What was he thinking?
She should give it back, remind him that this was a farce.
“Food should be coming soon,” Erin said as she walked in with Jason. “Hey, I like that dress on you, Bren.”
Brenna whipped around, stupidly hiding her left hand behind her back, as if her sister were going to somehow zero in right there. “Oh, thanks. You look pretty, too, Erin.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re looking pretty tonight, too, Finn,” Jason said with a crooked grin.
“I like that cowboy hat you’re wearing, Jason,” Finn shot back.
Erin rolled her eyes. “You guys are jerks.”
Finn laughed. “What? We can’t throw compliments like the ladies? I mean, I really do like Jason’s hat.”
“See?” Jason looked over at Erin. “I told you I should wear this hat.”
Brenna shot a look at Erin. “They’re being ridiculous.”
“I know.”
“Who’s being ridiculous?” Honor asked as she walked in.
“The guys.”
“And I missed it? Sad.”
The catering truck drove up, so conversations about cowboy hats and dresses came to a halt as they directed the caterers where to unload the food, and Brenna, though not officially on duty, couldn’t help but supervise the uncorking of the wine. It was, after all, her wine. At least now she could think about something else besides wearing Finn’s ring. And how hot he looked in his dark jeans and button-down shirt.
Which was ridiculous, because how could a man look so incredibly sexy in jeans and a button-down shirt?
Finn could, though. Those jeans hugged his perfect ass. She could ogle his butt all night.
Get it together, woman. That ass is not yours so quit lusting over it.
Then the cars started to arrive and her stomach knotted. She couldn’t help but stare at the lineup and wish she were somewhere else right now.
She was going to deal with this. Everything was going to be fine.
When she felt Finn’s arm slide around her waist, she nearly leaped.
“Take a breath,” he whispered, then kissed the top of her head. “We’ll get through this together.”
For some reason, his voice calmed her and she smiled, leaned against him and prepared to play the part.
Esther climbed out of the passenger side of the car, her arms open wide.
“Brenna! It’s my wedding weekend!”
She wasn’t faking her smile as she threw her arms around her friend. “I’m so excited for you.”
Esther looped her arm with Brenna’s. “I know you and your fam are going to make this a killer four days. And I’m sorry for the last-minute events we threw at you.”
“Are you kidding? We’ve got it handled, don’t we, Honor?”
“Of course we do. Hello, Brock.”
Esther’s fiancé, Brock, stepped up next to her. “Honor. Hey, Brenna.”
Brenna hugged Brock. “It’s so good to see you. How are the nerves?”
“Like steel.”
Everyone else followed them up to the barn and Brenna did her best to ignore Mitchell and Allison. Not that Allison would allow that.
“How very country and quaint,” Allison said as she lifted her nose and sniffed as if all of this were beneath her. “Hello, Brenna.”
“Allison.”
Allison was dressed in a chic flowery maxi dress, her straight blond hair flowing behind her in the slight breeze. She always looked like she could grace the cover of a magazine. Then again, she was a social media influencer, so she had all the right clothes, the latest makeup, the best purses, and she knew she looked damn good. Plus she was photogenic as hell, which was incredibly annoying.
Not that Brenna followed all of Allison’s social media under an anonymous account or anything.
“I’ll bet this brings back some memories, doesn’t it, Mitchell?” Allison asked.
“Yeah.”
Mitchell looked the same. They ran into each other periodically at social events, so it wasn’t like Brenna hadn’t seen him since her divorce. It was just that seeing him here on her family property, knowing that she was going to have to spend four days with him and with Allison so closely tied to her made her . . .
She didn’t know how it made her feel.
Annoyed? Itchy? Pissed off? Angry? Frustrated?
All of those things, probably. She decided she needed the upper hand.
“Mitchell, you know Finn, of course,” Brenna said.
“Yeah.” Mitchell leaned over and shook Finn’s hand. “How’s it going?”
“Great, thanks. You?”
“Couldn’t be better.”
“Finn and I are engaged.”
Way to just throw it out there, Brenna. She mentally kicked herself.
Mitchell just stared.
“You’re engaged,” Allison said.
“Yes, we are.”
Allison gave Finn the once-over, and Brenna knew she wouldn’t find Finn lacking. Not with his good looks, that flowing thick hair, those enigmatic steely eyes that spoke to a woman without ever saying a word. And then his body—well, a woman would have to be dead not to notice all that lean muscle, and Allison was anything but dead. Brenna just stood there and smirked.
“You’re engaged to him,” Allison said.
“Yes.”
“I didn’t know that.”
Brenna shrugged. “No reason you would know, since we’re not friends.”
“Wait.” Esther leaned in. “You’re engaged? Since when? How did I not know this?”
Brenna smiled. “You’ve had a lot on your plate.”
“Still, why didn’t you text me or call me or, oh my God, we should have gone out to celebrate. When did this happen?”
Crap. She hadn’t thought this through all the way. She should have sat down with her sisters and made a more thorough list of what-ifs and timelines and scenarios.
“It wasn’t all that long ago,” Finn said, taking Brenna’s hand and giving her the kind of warm look that Brenna could have sworn was genuine. “Brenna and I kept it to ourselves for a while, and then we told the family and started making wedding plans. I think she’s been keeping the news under wraps.”
“You’re not pregnant, are you?”
“Allison, really,” Esther said, wrinkling her nose.
Allison shrugged. “Someone had to ask.”
“No, not pregnant. Just in love.” She tilted her head back to look at Finn, who gave her a heated grin.
“Oh my gosh, Brenna. Congratulations.” Esther beamed a smile. “Looks like we have a lot to celebrate tonight.”
Brenna grinned. “It’s a good thing we have plenty of wine, then.”
“Should we get started?” Erin asked. “Welcome to the Red Moss Vineyards.”
Esther and Brock’s family and friends gathered in the barn. Brenna started them out with an introduction to Red Moss and how the family got started in the winemaking business, then took them on a tour. First they toured the vineyards and
Brenna told them how they chose which grapes to grow every season depending on estimates of weather and yield. The vineyard tour also contained the arbor where Esther and Brock would get married on Saturday. Honor interjected wedding ceremony details along the way to give everyone a bit of flavor for how things would happen, and as they walked Erin made sure the crowd stayed together and reiterated what Honor was saying for those in the back of the group.
It was all working out perfectly. Except for Mitchell and Allison being there, but that couldn’t be helped. What was nice was Finn staying right by her side, being oh so solicitous with her, holding her hand when she wasn’t gesturing about grapes or fermentation or bottling, then standing back when she gave her spiel about this year’s yield and explaining the harvest that was coming up.
For a fake fiancé, he was doing a bang-up job.
After the tour they headed back to the barn where the caterers had set up the appetizers and the wine tasting could begin. Brenna had hired four staff to pour wine for the tasting tonight.
They had four different wines on hand for the group to taste—a chardonnay, a zinfandel, a rosé and a sauvignon blanc. Of course she loved all the Red Moss Vineyard wines, had a hand in creating all of them. She desperately hoped the group liked them, too.
She stood back and let the staff pour and waited, expectantly, while people tried the wines.
She wasn’t pregnant, had no desire to be a mother anytime soon, but every time someone tasted their wines, it was like having one of her babies judged.
“This rosé is so smooth,” Esther said, going in for another sip and leaning into Brock. “We’re going to have to take some bottles home with us.”
“I like the zinfandel, too.” Brock clinked glasses with her. “We’ll make a note to buy some of that as well.”
“Good call, babe.”
Outwardly, Brenna remained calm, but inside she was squealing with delight.
“I find the rosé to be a bit too cloyingly sweet,” Allison said, examining her glass closely as if it held poison. “Also, the zinfandel was desert dry, the chardonnay had too much oak and the sauvignon was just . . . okay, I guess.”
“I want to throw a bottle at her head,” Erin muttered as they listened to Allison spout off about wine as if she had any knowledge at all. Which, Brenna knew, she didn’t.
Honor nodded. “I want to pour that rosé on top of her perfect stupid head before you bean her with the bottle.”
Brenna’s lips twitched. “I love you both.”
They all sat, noshed and sipped. “Don’t pay her any attention, Bren,” Erin said. “As you can see, everyone’s enjoying the tasting and no one at all is complaining about the wine. In fact, several are having more glasses and I hear lots of oohs and ahhs.”
Honor nodded. “Because the wine is excellent, as we all know. You chose very well.”
Leave it to her sisters to pump her up when she needed it. “Thanks.”
“It’s good wine, Brenna,” Finn said. “Even I like it and I’m a whiskey man.”
Brenna looked over at him. “You have a flask stashed somewhere nearby, though, don’t you?”
He shook his head. “On my best behavior tonight. Not a flask in sight.”
“Shocking.”
“Your whiskey is very good, Finn,” Erin said. “I noticed you bottled some for Jason.”
Jason gave Finn a knowing grin. “It’s good stuff. You should sell it.”
“Red Moss Whiskey?” Erin asked.
Finn laughed. “Not a chance. I’m happy enough just playing with it.”
Brenna was actually relieved to hear that Finn wasn’t interested in bottling and selling his whiskey. Not that she thought he was competition to the winery. Whiskey and wine were two different alcohols entirely. But the winery and the wedding venue had a certain ambience that fit.
Whiskey, on the other hand? Did not fit with their brand.
“You don’t have an appreciation for whiskey?” he asked, the warmth of his breath teasing her ear.
“I like whiskey just fine. I like wine better.”
“That’s because you haven’t tasted excellent Irish whiskey.”
She shook her head. “I’ve tasted all types of alcohol, including fine Irish whiskey, not like the stuff you brew in that homemade still you’ve got going.”
He straightened. “Now you’ve gone and insulted me.”
She laughed. “It’s impossible to insult you.”
“I’d like to propose a toast,” Esther’s father said, diverting their attention. “To Esther and Brock, two people who are more right for each other than any couple I’ve ever known. With the exception of my lovely Paula and myself, of course.”
He raised his glass. “To my beautiful daughter and the man she loves.”
Everyone raised their glasses and cheered. Esther and Brock kissed. Brenna was so happy for her friend. Esther had had a miserable boyfriend in high school who hadn’t appreciated her spunky sense of humor and intelligence. Brenna and Esther had gone to college together, and Esther had gone through a string of short, failed romances until she’d finally figured out that boys were a waste of time and focused on her studies. Now she was an amazing software developer and Brock was a hot rodeo cowboy and the best thing that had ever happened to her.
“I’d like to toast my lovely friend Esther as well,” Allison said.
Brenna resisted the urge to curl her lip into a snarl. But since Allison was the matron of honor, she supposed it was her right.
“We’ve been friends since high school, and Esther always did have the best taste. In clothes, in music and obviously in men. Brock, you are one lucky man. To Esther and Brock.”
They toasted and the couple kissed again.
As toasts went, it hadn’t sucked. Score one for Allison.
“One more toast,” Allison said.
Brenna thought she might groan.
“As we’ve discovered tonight, another of our friends is recently engaged.”
Oh, shit.
Allison looked right at her as she lifted her glass. “I’m so happy that you’ve finally found someone, Brenna. I hated to think of you wasting away out here, all alone.”
“Bitch,” Erin whispered to her lap.
“I swear I’m going to poison her food,” Honor said.
Brenna just plastered on a smile. Finn grasped her hand, which was now sweaty.
“To Brenna and Finn.”
Brenna raised her glass and shot visual daggers at her nemesis while everyone cheered.
“Kiss, kiss, kiss,” everyone yelled.
This night could not get worse. The last thing she wanted to do was kiss Finn in front of everyone. She’d never kissed him before. They’d all know their engagement was fake.
Plus, you want to be alone when you kiss him.
She pushed that thought aside and looked over at Finn, who gave her an easy smile, which meant it was up to her to decide how she was going to continue this charade.
The charade she’d invented. She was going to have to go for it. In front of all of these people.
I’ll get you for this, Allison.
She gave Finn a slight nod.
He slid his hand along the side of her neck. That mere touch made her nerve endings go haywire as their lips met.
And then fireworks went off as he moved his mouth over hers. Soft, gentle, exploratory, but with intent.
Damn.
It was a brief kiss, but oh, that kiss held promise. When he pulled back, she saw the barely banked heat in his eyes.
She wanted more.
CHAPTER
• • • • • •
nine
FINN WENT TO work on Friday, same as always. Except that kiss with Brenna lingered in his mind all day.
It had been just like he’d expe
cted. Soft, her lips sweet and plush, making him want more. Only they’d been surrounded by a crowd of people, so he could just have a taste of her. And when he’d pulled back he’d seen the surprise in her eyes, the look that told him she’d wanted him to continue.
Which he hadn’t been able to do because, again, people.
All those people. And he’d have no alone time with her for the next few days, either, because of the wedding.
He’d figure it out.
Damn. He dusted his hands off and pulled up his water jug, taking several swallows, then swiped the sweat from his brow. He pulled his phone out of his back pocket to check the time.
He needed to get ready for the rehearsal thing.
He cleaned up his workspace, put his tools away in the shed and whistled for Murphy, who hadn’t wandered far. The dog had been hanging out in the shade chewing on a bone and came running with it in his mouth. They walked back toward his house, Finn breathing a sigh of relief as the trees thickened along his path. He liked living where he did, in the thick of the woods, where the trees gave him some shelter from the harsh summer sun. He liked the pond where he could fish and the soft grass surrounding his house.
It wasn’t a big place, just a one-bedroom, but it was plenty for what he needed. And it gave him privacy. He was grateful that the Bellinis had offered up this parcel of land for him to build on. It had given him the independence he’d wanted.
Not that he’d been ungrateful to live in the house with them when he’d first traveled over from Ireland. Being an orphan and lonely as hell, he’d been happy to have a roof over his head and an opportunity to use his hands and earn some money. He’d learned a lot from Johnny Bellini and the other people who worked at the vineyard.
Two years after he’d moved in he’d asked if he could build his own place. Johnny and Maureen hadn’t hesitated before they said yes.
It wasn’t his property. He didn’t own it. But for now, it was his. And since he worked there and took care of everything, they didn’t ask him to pay rent, just to take care of the house and the property and to keep watch over that part of the land, which he would have anyway.
Eventually he’d buy his own land. He banked everything he earned so he could someday make that dream come true. Until then he was happy right here.