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She spent a few moments staring up at the sky. “It was safe to say I knew what I was talking about businesswise—at least a little. Keith didn’t think so, and he didn’t mind letting me know how much.”
Qasim massaged his collarbone while working a muscle along his jaw. He strode to the spicket and doused his face with the cool water. “I don’t know how Oliver and Mr. B could let that fool get away with that.”
“They knew enough.” Vectra sighed. “They threatened to kill him for it, but left him alone because I asked them to.”
He blinked, thick lashes spikey with moisture as he watched her. “Why would you do that?”
“Because I didn’t want the two men I love most in the world behind bars. I learned how to keep my mouth shut about the way he handled money. I tried to learn, anyway.”
Qasim felt the rage beginning to catch fire like kindling. Thoughts of Vectra in that situation ran wild in his head. “We need to change the subject, V.” He spread the lingering water from his face through his hair. “What does this have to do with why you left? Because you had to step in and tell me about what was going on with Will? Did you think I’d react to something like that the way that idiot did?”
“No, Sim. You don’t remind me of Keith at all. Your situation with Will reminded me of who I was with Keith—when someone I cared about was in a bad place and I wanted to help. Your situation took me back to a place I wasn’t expecting, a place I thought I was done with. That was what scared me.”
She hugged herself as though she were shivering in the midst of the late morning sun. “I was afraid of messing up, having us not make it because I’d overstepped.”
Qasim moved before her, blocking her path when she would’ve paced off. “Do you think any of the crap that fool took you through was your fault?”
“I know it wasn’t, but getting my head and my heart on the same wavelengths was harder than I thought, and I thought I’d licked it until I had to admit what I wanted from you.”
He tweaked her chin, lifting it a bit. “What are you trying to tell me, V?”
“That I was afraid—afraid I’d screw up over nothing... And then sharing with you all that creep put me through before I— I needed you to know, but couldn’t make myself say the words. After all that I went through with Keith, I swore I’d never be controlled by fear ever again and not being able to talk to you about this...that fear came down out of nowhere.”
Qasim grazed his knuckles along her cheek. “Honey, don’t you think I’m afraid, too?”
“Maybe, but you’re not coming from where I am.”
“Really? After what I told you about how often people have let me down? Maybe I came to expect it so much that I couldn’t see anything else. My issues with possessiveness didn’t fit when it came to you. That became even clearer when Oliver told me what that fool did to you. I knew I had no place having anything to do with you.
“I knew it and I said ‘to hell with it.’ And since being your friend doesn’t appeal to me even a little bit...” he smiled, pulled her into him when she returned the gesture “...you being my ex-lover is just wrong in too many ways to name.”
Vectra’s smile remained, though her eyes tinged with just a hint of curiosity. “Will you promise to tell me when I’m getting weird on you?”
Qasim locked his arms about her waist. “Only if you promise to do the same for me.”
“Promise.” Vectra stood on her toes, sharing with him a kiss of desire and love.
“So what now?” Vectra nuzzled her cheek against Qasim’s grizzled jaw.
“Well, I’m invited to a pretty good party tonight,” he suggested.
Vectra laughed. “This all got started because of a party.”
“And to think, I almost didn’t go.” Qasim grinned.
“Me, too.” Vectra beamed. “Guess we needed a good reason.”
“Yeah...but I’ve always been a fan of a good party.” Qasim outlined her ear with the tip of his nose and then set his mouth against it. “Especially the kind that come after weddings.”
She blinked, swallowed. “Yeah, those are, um...pretty good. I haven’t been to a party like that in a long time.”
“Neither have I.”
“Let me know if you hear of one?”
“Count on it, Ms. Bauer.” He leaned in as if to kiss her and then seemed to reconsider. “So what else goes on in a vineyard besides picking grapes?”
“Why, Mr. Wilder, what are you insinuating? I’m a good girl.” She huffed. “Picking grapes is all I’ve ever done out here.”
