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She stood frozen in time, looking down at her boyfriend, the man she loved. I could practically feel her shaken world at the words out of his mouth. Everyone held a breath, waited. Morgan wasn’t the lovey-dovey type. But Patrick was her person. She’d always liked him, and now, they were inseparably in love.
“Yes!”
The word broke the tension and the dam on her tears. She cried happy tears as he stood and slid the ring onto her finger, pulling her lips to his. The crowd around them all cheered, applause coming from the entire Fourth of July event.
Julian wrapped an arm around my waist. “Your final shoot, huh?”
I laughed and swiped at my own tears. “It was beautiful.”
“You’re beautiful.”
Then he kissed me. Right then and there in front of everyone. I came alive in Julian’s arms. In this place where I finally fit. With these people, where my skill was valued. I was finally right where I belonged.
Part V
Belonging
32
Julian
After Fourth of July, time passed both more slowly and also at hyper-speed. Waiting to hear from Jordan’s PI felt like it was taking a lifetime. And the delay with the distributor as they got the paperwork together only made me want to rage at the snail’s pace. I’d followed up twice already and kept getting the run around about when we’d finalize everything. But otherwise, day-to-day business at the winery flew by.
Without knowing how, we were halfway through July and coming up on the Wright party. Nora had been working nonstop to make it everything it could be. She’d even called Campbell to see if he could come in for it. That was still up in the air as well since the record label was apparently on his ass about a new album. It wasn’t enough to be a successful rockstar. He had to repeat the ability time and time again. I didn’t envy him.
I finished off the memo I’d been working on and pushed away from my desk. I hadn’t moved in hours. I needed a break.
Running a hand down my face, I shucked off my blazer and rolled my sleeves up as I exited into the cellars. The idea to purchase West Texas Winery and make it our own Wright Vineyard had truly been Hollin’s idea. And as I watched him lean over a barrel, explaining the process to a tour that had stopped in front of him, I could see why he’d wanted it so badly. He loved this place. He’d loved it for a decade. And I was coming to realize that it was entirely my sanctuary as well.
A flash of red hair, and then Tamara was standing in front of him. “Oh, this is a treat, ladies and gentlemen, both owners in one day.”
I laughed and put on my most charming smile to cover my exhaustion. Tamara was our latest tour guide hire. She was Nora’s best friend, and Nora had vouched for her. It didn’t hurt that she was a knockout. Hollin had wanted to hire her before interviewing her. Bastard.
“Hey, Tamara.” I nodded at the rest of the tour. “How’s it going?”
“We love it here,” a middle-aged white woman said.
“It’s lovely,” another responded.
“We’re just getting out to the vineyards. Beautiful day for it,” Tamara said. “Now, everyone, wave good-bye to Julian.”
I laughed and waved as they headed out of the cellar doors and into the vineyard beyond.
Hollin whistled low behind me. “She might take the prize from you, Julian.”
I raised an eyebrow. “For what?”
“Flirting.”
“Oh Jesus, I’m not that bad.”
“Not now that you’re with Jennifer maybe. But, yeah, Tamara is, like, the flirt. She’s touched me every time she’s seen me.”
“And you hate it?”
“She’s a bit young,” he said with a wince. “She grew up with Nora.”
“Yeah, a little creepy. Do I need to say something?”
“No, no,” he said quickly. “I can put her down gently.”
I snorted. “Sure you can.”
“Anyway,” Hollin said, clapping me on the back, “any word on the distribution? We’re ready to get going.”
“No,” I said with a sigh. “I don’t understand. They were all for it when I met them at the gala. They made it seem like I’d hear back from them immediately, and now, it’s so slow.”
Hollin shrugged. “Business.”
“I guess.”
“Well, are you excited for the Wright party here? That’s our first corporate event!”
“I am. It’ll look good to have the company here. The name carries.”
“That’s why we named it Wright Vineyard.”
“True.”
“But why we’re going to add Abbey vintages.”
I laughed at my friend and cousin. “Absolutely. And are you bringing someone with you to the party?”
Hollin crossed his bulky arms, the tattoo sleeve visible below his rolled-up shirt. “I like to keep my options open.”
“So, that’s a no.”
He snorted. “Whatever, dude. I like lots of hot pussy. Can’t keep me down.”
I shook my head. “How are we friends?”
Hollin cracked a smile. “Because I keep your life interesting.”
