Love You Truly (Buttercup Hill #3)

Epilogue

Dash

Three Months Later

I wake up to the sound of quiet, insistent beeping in the distance and it makes me smile. It doesn’t bother me that it’s still dark outside and I really could use the extra few hours of sleep. The trucks backing up in the fields at Autumn Lake offer proof of progress, and I couldn’t be more proud of my wife for making it happen.

Without looking to my right, I know Mallory is already awake and out of bed. She gets up before dawn every day when the lights go on in the vineyard. She likes to walk up and down the rows of staked plants and breathe in the scent of soil and morning dew on the vines.

Right now, the Autumn Lake vineyards consist mainly of root stock, the hardy drought-tolerant plants that will be future grapevines. They’re taking root and being trained onto trellises. Soon, they’ll be ready for chardonnay grapes to be grafted onto the established plants, and Mallory will be on her way to growing her first crop of fruit. I keep telling her that her manager, Jose, can handle the task without her hovering, but she wants to be there when the first buds appear. Like a proud parent wanting to photograph her child’s first steps.

Jose is a third-generation vineyard manager who I wanted to hire at Buttercup Hill, but he liked the challenge of building a winery from the ground up—literally. “Are you going to hold it against me?” Mallory asked after Jose made his decision.

“Never.” The slight disappointment I felt over not luring him to Buttercup Hill pales by comparison with my pride over how quickly Mallory has taken charge and put her business plans into motion.

And let’s face it, I’m so gone for her that I’d offer up the best employee leads to her before bringing them to my own family. Yeah, I’m keeping that fact to myself. For now, I’ve managed to replace most of the people who were lured away from Buttercup Hill, and with the help of Graham, our finances are stable for now.

“Hey.” Mallory’s soft voice startles me. A second later, I feel her slip onto the bed behind me and curl her body into mine. She slides a hand over my hip, and I turn to face her. It’s too dark to see her face clearly, but I know her gray eyes are sparkling. I know she’s smiling.

“Hey. I thought you were out there.” I gesture vaguely with my head.

“I was,” she says. “But I decided I wanted to be here more.”

My eyes start adjusting to the dim light, and now I can make out Mallory’s features. Gorgeous as always. I roll onto my back and put my arms behind my head. “Anything in particular you have in mind?”

Her eyes travel to my naked chest and rake over my abs. She’s made it clear on more than one occasion what her catnip is and I’m not above using any method at my disposal to get her to out of her clothes.

She laughs. “Yes. I thought we could take a sunrise hike.”

At first, I’m certain she’s joking. The last time we attempted a sunrise hike, we ended up in a misunderstanding that nearly derailed us. “Not sure that’s really my jam.”

“Why not? You’re the one who bought me a headlamp.”

This is true. Maybe I subconsciously want a do-over of that other crappy hike. And as much as I’d prefer to peel Mallory’s clothes off and pull her on top of me, I know her well enough to understand that when she’s determined to do something, my only option is to jump onboard.

“Hiking, huh?”

“Hiking.”

Twenty minutes later, we’re on a trail up the mountain. It doesn’t require headlamps because the sun is nearly over the horizon. It means we’ll be at the top for sunrise, and we’ll have an incredible view of Autumn Lake under bright morning light.

We hike hand-in-hand at a relaxed pace, stopping every so often to take in the view at the top of a rise. From here, I really feel the vastness of Autumn Hill’s new vineyards which span out in the distance below us. That’s why Mallory likes coming up here—it’s gratifying to see the literal fruits of her labor. It’s why I like coming up here too.

And hell, I’d follow that woman up any hill she pointed at because I fucking love her. My siblings love her too because our early hikes mean I make it to morning meetings on time. What can I say? She’s good for me.

“I’ll never get tired of this view,” Mallory says, tipping her head against my shoulder. Her long ponytail glides over the skin of my neck and I breathe in the scent of her jasmine shampoo.

“I’ll never get tired of you.”

Never.

I kiss her temple and pull her close.

We take a minute to look out over the valley from the top of Buttercup Hill, which gave our winery its name. It’s the tallest peak in the area, and it’s a popular hiking destination. Just not at seven in the morning, which is another reason I don’t mind the early hikes.

Today, however, we have company. The heavy breathing of a jogger nearing the top of a steep climb disrupts the quiet. A moment later, we’re joined by a tall guy in a backward baseball cap and a long-sleeved workout shirt that has to work to stretch over his chest and shoulders. Athlete, clearly.

He jogs in place at the top of the hill for a few seconds, taking in the view but never taking his earbuds out or stopping to stretch or chat with us.

As he turns around, we make eye contact and I realize I know him. His eyes widen and he extends a fist to bump. We nod at each other before he heads back the way he came.

“You know that guy?” Mallory whispers even though we’re a hundred yards away from the guy.

“Yeah. Hockey player.”

“That explains it.”

“Explains what?” My possessive reflexes spring into action. I suppose they always will around Mallory because she’s mine, and I don’t care who I need to fight off in order to prove it.

“Relax, caveman.” Just as quickly, Mallory settles against my chest and tames my baser instincts. I wrap my arms around her and rest my cheek against her hair. This is what happiness feels like. Good to know.

“That’s Dave Calhoun. Plays for the Sailors. Used to date my sister.”

“Which sister?”

“Trix.”

“Huh. Good on her.”

”Yeah. Whatever.” I know she loves me, but I’d rather delude myself into believing she doesn’t notice other men.

What I don’t tell Mallory is that my sister’s relationship with Cal didn’t end particularly well. She’s dated other guys since him, and she doesn’t bring him up. But like I’ve said, I’m good at reading people. I’ve been with my sister at the Dark Horse more than once when a Sailors game came on the TV and she wasted no time asking for the channel to be changed.

“I think I read something about him. Just bought the Dalehurst winery near Calistoga. Did you hear anything?”

“Nope.” And for my sister’s sake, I really hope it’s not true. Then again, it might not be the worst thing to have Dave Calhoun back in her life. He’s the one guy she never got over, and I do enjoy watching people. If he’s in town, the two of them will give me something to watch, for sure.

But for now, I swing an arm around my wife’s shoulder, and we start making our way down the hill. “I don’t have to be at work for over two hours,” I say. “Breakfast in bed, Marshmallow?”

Mallory nods. “Anything you want.”

“I want you. That’s all.”

She smiles. “Good. Because you can have me. Forever.”

Thank you so much for reading Dash and Mallory’s story—I hope you loved this couple as much as I do. Those golden retriever men get me every time!