Page 41

That’s the problem, you idiot. I’ve always wanted you to.

I reach out, my fingers hovering over the little blue box. I can feel the heat radiating from his hand. This is self-sabotage. A disaster in the making. It’s the most irrational thing I’ve ever considered. “Well, okay. Put it on before I change my mind,” I snap.

He doesn’t hesitate. With a broad smile, Sam drops to his knee and slides the ring onto my finger. His hands are shaking. Almost as much as mine. The weight of the stone feels like a shackle, a stark contrast to all of the dreams I’d had of this moment when I was younger.

He stands up, looming over me, and for a second, the air between us is charged with years of repressed desire. Reaching behind him, he hands me my glass of wine before retrieving his own. “To the vineyard,” he whispers.

Ugh. Yes. Of course. Starting right now, I need to remember what this is all about. Don’t get caught up in fantasies that are never going to happen. “To making it through the next year without ending up on an episode of Snapped!,” I correct, placing my wine on the table.

He shakes his head, smirking in response to my remark. “Next topic: the wedding,” Sam interjects. “I say we keep it small. We can have it at the vineyard. It keeps the chaos contained and the costs down.”

I can’t help it. My lip curls into a pout.

“What?” he implores, catching my expression.

“Most girls wait their whole lives for their wedding day, Sam.” There’s no hiding my disappointment. Might as well put it all out there. “Fake marriage or not, I’m feeling a little cheated out of the magic. I agreed knowing I wasn’t exactly getting Prince Charming. But I guess I hoped I’d get to have a few of the traditional elements.”

“Ouch,” he winces, the direct hit landing square in his chest. He drops my hands and rubs the back of his neck, looking down at the table. I already miss the warmth of his large hands on mine.

Knock it off, you lovestruck moron. You hate this asshat, remember?

“Look, I’m just trying to keep as much of that trust fund available to rehabilitate the vineyard as I can. Hell, I’ve already sold as much of my personal property as I had left just to keep the electricity on.”

I blink, my anger evaporating. “You sold your cars? The vacation homes?”

“Yes. Everything I could move without Mother noticing,” he admits.

I stare at him. I had no idea he’d gone that far. The last few times I’d seen him he had kept that rich playboy charade going. That and he was so rude I didn’t bother looking into what his life was like now. The last twenty years has forced me to keep the walls up where he’s concerned. The less I. knew the better. I can’t let him keep chipping away at my self worth. Even if I want to help save the vineyard. “You deserve a lot of respect for doing all you can, Sam. No matter how this ends up, Pop would be proud.”

He scoffs, waving a hand dismissively. “You don’t need to go that far. I know you think I’m a complete fuck-up, and you aren’t wrong.” He stands from his seat at the table and wanders over to the large picture window looking over the garden. “I’ve got everything riding on this, Lex. Not to mention you’ve gifted a year of your life to making it work.” He pauses before his troubled blue irises hold mine. “It has to work.”

I take a deep breath, deciding to go all in. I’m a bit concerned he agreed too quickly before. “Then let’s talk about the no-cheating clause,” I say, pulling the contract toward me. “You’re going to remain celibate for a year.”

His face pales at the stark reality of the situation.

“No late-night, out-of-town booty calls. No paid escorts you meet under the guise of business. I was perfectly fine before this whole situation landed in my lap.” Lies. This may be a nightmare in the making, but my life was anything but perfectly fine. “I don’t need to put myself through this, or risk being made a fool of. This won’t just impact me personally, but my practice if you’re caught with other women.”

“My playboy days are over,” he confirms, his voice steady. “You have my word, Lex. No one else. I may die of blue balls, but I hear that’s your specialty.”

I guess he’s right. Testicles are within a urologist’s scope of practice. “Very funny.”

We sit in silence for a moment before picking up our pens. The scratch of ink on paper is akin to the closing of a jail cell door. We both agree to share these details with no one but our attorneys as we place the pens down on the table.

“Sebastian may figure this out,” Sam mutters as he blows on the signature to dry the ink. “He mentioned the clause recently.”

“Yeah, he’s too smart for his own good,” I add.

Sam’s lip curls in disgust. What is that about? I thought the two of them had remained close. “Well, I won’t confirm or deny a thing if he brings it up again.”

I place my hand atop the stack of papers. “I’ll get a copy of the signed contract to you this week.”

“When can we announce our engagement?” he blurts. “The sooner it’s out there, the sooner we can get married.”

“Jeez, what’s your rush?”

“Lexi, I need to infuse some cash into Sutter Creek like yesterday. Hell, I should’ve bought you a cubic zirconia off of the Home Shopping Channel. That might’ve bought us another month or two.”

My eyes widen in shock. “This thing is real?”