Eight years later
Over the course of eight years of marriage, Natalie had seen August mad plenty of times. They’d always been, and continued to be, hot-tempered individuals and they ran a successful winery together. Of course they argued. The beauty was in the forgiveness—and they did forgiveness really well. Whether they fought over temperature management of the wine or planting strategy, they didn’t stay mad long. One of them usually caved after five minutes of silent treatment. And she meant “caved” in the literal sense, because the wine cave was usually where they ended up engaging in frenzied apologies out of earshot of their employees.
Yes, she’d seen August plenty mad. But never so mad as today, when he found out their daughter’s dance partner hadn’t shown up for a recital.
“They’ve been practicing for five months and he doesn’t show up for the recital?” August started to pace, a handful of fingers shoving through his wind-blown hair, which now contained a dusting of gray at the temples. “How is she? Is she . . .” He waved his hands in a giant X. “Princess, don’t tell me she’s crying.”
They were outside the school auditorium in a huge group. Natalie, August, Hallie, Julian, Corinne, and her new husband. August’s parents were there, too, having flown in from Kansas for the big night. Truth be told, it was hard to keep August’s parents out of Napa. They’d discovered a late-in-life passion for Cabernet and were now the proud owners of summer linens and straw hats, fitting in seamlessly with the locals. August’s mother referred to her stylish new attire as her “wine pants,” and Natalie adored the woman to no end. After all, she’d raised the love of Natalie’s life. A man who’d taken to parenting like he was born to be a girl dad.
Which was a very good thing, because they had three.
Parker, the oldest at seven. Parks for short.
Elle, the youngest, at two.
Both were currently home with a babysitter—the same home where August had carried Natalie over the threshold. They’d simply kept adding on rooms.
The cat was still punishing them.
Samantha, their middle girl, was a very serious five and a half—and tonight was her jazz recital. Her older sister, Parker, played sports. August dedicated a lot of time to coaching her teams. When Samantha had expressed an interest in dance, he was very adamant that he give the same level of attention to his middle daughter’s interests, so she wouldn’t feel slighted. He might have stopped shy of teaching the dance class, but he’d asked so many questions at rehearsals that the teacher eventually started ignoring his raised hand.
“Naturally, she is a little upset, but we had some cookies and juice with the instructor, so she’s gotten her courage back,” Natalie said, laying a hand on August’s arm and drawing him close. “She’s okay. It’s not ideal, but she can still do the dance without her partner.”
“There’s a dip during the second transition, Natalie.” August looked at her long and hard. “She can’t dip herself.”
Her heart crawled up into her throat. “You know, she’s going to get through this. It’s going to be a good lesson. Life gives us lemons sometimes—”
“No one gives my girls lemons,” he said, visibly offended. “That goes double for my wife,” he said, leaning down to kiss her. “No one better be giving you any lemons.”
“No one is giving me lemons.”
Her mouth seemed to be distracting him from the problem at hand. “You look insane tonight, you know that, right?” he said in a lowered voice, his gaze traveling down the front of her burgundy silk wrap dress, his right hand lifting to squeeze her hip. “I was going to tell you when we arrived, but you sprung this whole missing partner on me. Damn, look at your legs. I could literally eat you alive.”
“Seeing as though our entire families are here,” she whispered, gesturing for him to keep his own voice down, “. . . that might have to wait until later.”
“You read my mind. Cave date tonight?”
“We might as well put a bed down there at this point.”
“Smart and hot.” He pressed his lips to the center of her forehead, his arms wrapping around her in a bear hug. “How’d I get this lucky?”
She took a deep inhale of his grapefruit scent and for a moment, there was nothing and no one but the two of them. This man whom she’d married under the guise of a marriage of convenience, but whom she’d been in love with all along. This man who’d become her best friend, business partner, biggest supporter, and co-parent. They were the best thing to ever happen to each other and neither one of them took it for granted.
Looking back, eight years had gone by at the speed of sound, and yet every moment was so vivid that she could replay them in slow motion. It was almost like living through those cherished memories twice. The evening they’d opened a bottle of their first vintage and it actually tasted decent? August had put Natalie on his back and run through the vineyard while she was still holding the open container. They were covered in wine by the time they collapsed and made love under the moon, the scent of grapes and earth filling her nose. Two years of hard work later, their wine had started pouring better than decent, and it was good timing, because she’d just found out she was pregnant with Samantha.
Funny, she’d never envisioned herself as a mother. Not until she met someone who reminded her she was fearless. Someone who imbued her with twice her strength, because they were a team. In everything. Made Natalie feel like such a vital part of a family that she started dreaming of expanding it. August’s response to her broaching the subject of having kids?
Princess, I thought you’d never ask.
They didn’t come out of their bedroom for a solid forty-eight hours.
Ten months later, August had passed out from sympathy pains in the delivery room and hit his head on a metal cart, resulting in nineteen stitches.
He still had the scar and claimed it made him even more attractive.
Natalie couldn’t exactly disagree. Who didn’t like a reminder that their husband had enough empathy and love in his heart that he could lose consciousness over it?
That was August. Empathy, love . . . and unconditional support. When she wanted to use her trust fund to buy shares in VineWatch, he’d supported her without question and watched proudly at her side as that investment quadrupled in the space of a year. She’d managed to convince Corinne and Julian to do the same, their faith in her healing a deep-down wound that had been lurking since childhood. The Vos family had definitely grown closer since then. Family dinners were messier, thanks to their girls. Julian and Hallie were also parents to a beautiful set of five-year-old twin boys. One of them was very serious and had a deep obsession with sharks. The other was wild to the bone and had once been found hanging from the dining room chandelier at Corinne’s.
One day in the not-too-distant future, these cousins were going to paint St. Helena red.
For now, they had a dance recital crisis.
“Do you think I should go talk to her?” August asked now as he smoothed Natalie’s hair. “Or am I going to make it worse?”
“You only make everything better,” she said automatically.
He dipped his head on a smile that was almost bashful. “You doing that thing where you rewind the past and get all sentimental on me?”
She pressed her lips together tightly and nodded. “Maybe.”
Slowly, his smile gave way to a serious expression. “If I had one wish, it would be to slow down my time with you, Natalie. A hundred years won’t be enough.”
If they kept this up, she was either going to swoon or cry in front of their entire family. With a big inhale, she straightened the collar of his dress shirt. “Go talk to Samantha. She needs you.”
He studied her face for a long moment, as if memorizing every feature, before striding away. Natalie didn’t know what made her follow. Maybe she wanted to provide parental backup if the waterworks started again. Or maybe she just wanted to witness a moment between August and their middle daughter. But for whatever reason, she crept in his wake toward the stage entrance and peeked in through the crack of the door.
There was Samantha, the spitting image of Natalie at that age, sitting on August’s knee in her emerald green sequined dress and matching mini top hat. As Natalie had feared, her lower lip was trembling again. As strong as her impulse was to enter the room and comfort her baby, Natalie remained in place. August had this.
“You know what?” Natalie’s husband gave an exaggerated look over both shoulders. “That kid always had snot in his nose, anyway.”
Samantha giggle-sniffed.
“They’ll say he has chicken pox, but we know the truth. He couldn’t keep up with you.”
“No,” said their daughter, always logical. “He could. It’s prolly just chicken pox.”
“If you say so,” August said skeptically. “Here’s what I know. I’m going to be sitting in the audience thinking about how brave you are. All of us will. You’re so brave, Samantha. Just like your mom. Remember that story I told you about her winning over that meanie in a suit in New York?”
“Yeah.”
“And the one about her marrying a big doofus so she could follow her dreams?”
Samantha gasped. “You’re not a big doofus.”
“I was. Still am sometimes. It’s a good thing you girls love me anyway.
“Remember when we were cleaning out the wine cave and a bat flew out. I screamed, but your mom didn’t even flinch. You get your bravery from her.”
Their daughter was quiet for a long moment, her tiny throat muscles starting to strain. “Dad?”
“Yeah?”
“Do I have to be brave alone?”
“Hell no, you don’t,” said Natalie’s husband, no hesitation.
And that’s how August ended up dancing as Samantha’s partner in the recital, with a miniature green, sequined top hat pinned to his head, every move executed flawlessly. Yet another memory that Natalie would replay again and again for the rest of their lives.
