Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 105708 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105708 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
“I just needed to say something.”
“You have my full attention.” His hand settles at my waist, and I swear I don’t know how it’s possible, but I feel this man everywhere when he touches me in one spot. “You always have my full attention, Faith,” he adds, his voice low, intimate.
And what’s really amazing to me is that I believe him. I feel his interest, his engagement, and not just now. Always. He is more present in my life than people I have known for years. “It just hit me that I didn’t even consider saying no to Sara and rushing back to Sonoma.”
“Is that a bad thing?” he asks.
“I don’t know,” I say. “That’s what I’m trying to decide.”
He tilts his head toward the table. “Let’s sit and figure it out,” he urges.
I nod, and we both claim our barstools from earlier and face each other. “Why don’t you know?” he asks, returning to the point rather than moving past it, his hands bracketing my legs, our knees touching. “Just say whatever comes to mind, and you’ll have your answer.”
“I’m excited about working with Sara and painting and my show in L.A. and so many things, but the moment that I forgot to worry about the winery because of those things tells a story.”
And instead of telling me what I mean, he asks, “And that story is what?”
“That I’m counting on the winery running without me, and that means that I’m counting on your help.”
“Good. I want you to. Because you can. I’m not going anywhere, Faith, and clearly, I’m doing my best to make sure that you don’t, either. I owe Sara for the assistance on that one.”
“I’d already decided to stay,” I remind him, wanting him to know that I’m here for him.
“I know you did,” he says. “But let’s face it. The winery comes with a long history of pulling you there. I have a short one of pulling you to me. I’d like to help you find a way to cut off the drain it has on you.”
“You mean by paying off the debt and rewarding Kasey for taking charge.”
“Among other things,” he says, “but before we talk about money, I want to go over the documents with you, and, with full disclosure, I drafted them for Abel.”
I laugh. “That doesn’t surprise me at all. You have to be the driver.”
He doesn’t laugh with me as he usually does, not this time. “I do,” he agrees, his tone serious. “It’s who I am. You need to know that. My instinct will always be to take control.”
“Type A personality on caffeine,” I say, “and the truth is that I can pretend to be a type A, but I’m not. But that doesn’t mean that you get to be in charge.”
He gives me a shrewd look. “Unless you’re naked.”
A knot forms in my chest with what is clearly an observation and a question I’m not ready to answer yet. “That’s a different topic for another time,” I say, cutting my gaze from his, and because I need to do anything but look at him in the next thirty seconds, I reach for my bottle of water and unscrew the lid.
Nick’s watching me, I feel his scrutiny—heavy, intense—and it makes my throat dry. I tilt the bottle back, drinking deeply, and when I lower the bottle, Nick takes it from me, holds my stare, and the bottle goes to his lips. I watch him chug the liquid, my fingers curling on my leg, acutely aware of the intimacy of sharing my water with him.
He sets the bottle down, and I don’t even mean to, but I’m staring at him, and the look in his eyes tells me that his thoughts are with mine, and I suddenly realize his message even before he says, “You can be naked with your clothes on or off, Faith.” He reaches up and caresses my cheek. “And I do like you naked, but as you said to me, tell me whatever you want to tell me, whenever you’re ready to tell me. I’ll still be here.”
“I just—”
“No pressure.” He eases back in his seat. “For now. You were telling me my control has to have limits.”
“Are you capable of limits?”
“Control is all about limits. Is that what you want, Faith? Limits?”
I’m instantly aware of where he’s leading me, and I go there. “Control is about limits. Possibilities are not. But me owing you money feels like a limit. It might not change you, but it will change me. I need to pay you back. And I need to give you that money I got from my art as a down payment.”
He studies me for several beats, his expression unreadable. “You need this.”
“Yes,” I say. “I do.”
“I won’t agree to ever taking any portion of the winery. Period. No conversation. And no interest, Faith. I don’t need the money. I won’t take extra.” I open my mouth to argue, and he says, “Compromise. I’m agreeing to a payback for you, not me. Agree to my terms for me.”