Page 4 of Oops I Fell For The Mountain Man Next Door

Lana’s words echo in my head as I walk around the winery grounds, my feet carrying me to the honeymoon cabin, where Rachel is staying tonight and where we're supposed to stay tomorrow night after we say I do.

I lift my hand to knock when I hear a man’s raised voice speaking to Rachel. It takes me a few seconds to realize the voice is my father’s. I push open the door to find Rachel with her skirt around her waist, her lace panties visible, lying across my father’s lap, his hand raised, ready to come down on her ass.

“What in the hell is going on in here?”

My father drops his hand as Rachel scrambles off his lap, trying to cover herself. “Marx.” My father stands, shielding Rachel behind him. “Let me explain. Rachel was getting a little handsy with the male stripper at her bachelorette party—she needed a reminder about how to behave.”

“She’s my fiancée, Dad, not yours. Shouldn’t I be the one to remind her?”

A low growl escapes my father’s lips as he lunges for me. But before he can reach me, he pulls up short and steps back, as if he’s just realizing how he’s acting toward my fiancée. “You’re right. I was out of line.”

My mother has been gone for fifteen years, and my father has never once dated or mentioned getting remarried, saying she was the love of his life and that no one could ever replace her. Her death hit us both hard, but I know she wouldn’t want to see him suffer.

"Do you love her?" I ask, needing to hear the truth.

"Marx," he warns, but I press on.

"Answer my question, Dad. Do you love Rachel?"

His eyes shift to Rachel. "Yes."

"And do you love him?" I turn to Rachel, her eyes filling with tears.

"Yes." She nods.

"Excellent,” I say, motioning between Rachel and me. “She's single—I'm single, effective immediately—the wedding is off.”

Dad shoots me a warning look. "This doesn't mean we should rush into anything."

“Dad, Mom’s been gone fifteen years—it’s time for you to move on and be happy.”

“And you’re okay with me moving on with Rachel?” He wraps an arm around Rachel’s waist and pulls her against his side. The spoiled brat I’ve come to know in Rachel now looks blissfully in love—something she never felt for me.

“I’m sure, Dad.” Now that things are settled with Rachel, I need to find Lana and tell her everything I wanted to say before I left the winery. I turn to leave, but my father reaches out and rests his hand on my shoulder, stopping me.

"Where are you going?"

"Out," I reply, not ready to tell them about Lana.

"Don't do anything reckless, Son. You know how quickly gossip spreads. It will be bad enough that the wedding has been called off. Don’t add fuel to the fire."

I stare at him, still holding Rachel against his side. "I feel you've forfeited your right to give that speech tonight."

Rachel bursts out laughing, and even Dad almost smiles at the absurdity of our situation. "Marx?" Rachel says. "Is there someone else?"

Lana immediately fills my mind: glittery T-shirt, bright eyes, smart mouth, and the first person in a year to ask what I wanted. "I met someone tonight."

Rachel smiles. "Who?"

"Lana Callahan." I let out a slow breath, forcing myself to stay steady.

"The winery family?" Rachel asks.

"Yeah. We only talked. She asked if I loved you. I said no. She told me not to marry someone I didn't love."

"I like her already," Rachel says, in all sincerity. I have to wonder who the real Rachel is: the bridezilla I’ve been dealing with for a year, or this softer, kinder woman.

"You've just ended an engagement. You're emotional." Dad grips my shoulder tighter.