Chapter 41
Ariana
MINE TO TOUCH
It’s been over a month since Cole’s birthday and every day since has felt better than the last.
But today I’m not so sure the streak will continue. Today is Whitney’s wedding.
I still haven’t met her yet. It’s only thanks to Elyse and Layla’s stalking skills that I even know what she looks like, and the moment I saw a picture of her I regretted doing any digging at all.
She’s beautiful. The kind of beautiful that stops you in your tracks because surely no one is actually that flawless.
It’s silly to be jealous of a woman who isn’t marrying Cole and has no intention of doing so. But I can’t help the green monster that creeps in anyway. At some point he had strong enough feelings about her to be in a relationship. That’s not nothing, no matter how long ago it was.
I know Cole cares about me and that his feelings are real, but the comparison game has me questioning what he sees in me at all.
Starting with Whitney and trailing all the way through the line of women who followed, I don’t even think I rank.
I’m so painfully average in comparison, and my insecurities are running wild trying to make sense of it.
Why me? What’s so special about me that made Cole want to finally commit to someone? He could have anyone.
I stare at my reflection and the dress I thought was flattering when I tried it on suddenly looks different under scrutiny.
My eyes snag on the wide berth of my hips, the curve of my stomach beneath the fabric, my chest spilling over the neckline.
Everything about me feels like too much, and if I had the time I’d change into something that covered every inch of me completely.
“Goddamn.” Cole whistles behind me, jolting me in place. I didn’t even hear him come in. “You’re wearing that to the wedding? Baby, you can’t walk out of the house in that thing.”
I spin to face him, my hands fidgeting over my stomach. “Why? I look awful, don’t I?”
“What?” His flared eyes wander the length of me. “You look like a knockout. You’re going to show up the bride and every woman in attendance.”
“You’re just saying that.” My shoulders drop a fraction. “I’ll change.” I reach back to unzip the dress when Cole’s hands land on my arms, stopping me.
“The only way you’re getting out of that dress is when I rip it off you tonight.”
I shake my head, heat clawing at my neck. “Everyone is going to be staring at me. And not in a good way.”
His gaze narrows. “Fuck, yeah, in a good way. Let them stare. Let them get an eyeful of the woman who belongs to me. I’m the lucky bastard who gets to claim you.
The one who takes care of this pussy.” He smooths his fingers over my lace-clad mound through the fabric of my dress.
“Who sucks on these delicious titties.” He drops a kiss to the swell of my breast. “I don’t care who looks when every inch is mine to touch.
You’re the sexiest woman I’ve ever laid eyes on.
They’re all going to be wondering what the fuck you’re doing with a chump like me. Trust me.”
It’s hard to argue with him when there’s that much heat in his stare.
And maybe part of me does believe him. Maybe I do look good in this dress.
When I tried it on I was certain it was one of the best things I’d ever put on my body, but my self-doubt loves to rear its ugly head when I need it the least.
And comparing myself to Whitney hasn’t helped. This is the woman Cole’s mother wanted him to marry. The girl he was supposedly destined for, so of course I’m feeling skeptical of myself. How am I supposed to compete with what his family always imagined for him, even if she is getting married today.
I manage to convince myself not to change—I don’t think Cole would let me anyway—and we head to Benton Winery for Whitney and Jacob’s wedding.
As soon as we arrive, I realize just how small the wedding actually is. Maybe fifty people, if that, and my stomach twists into knots.
“Remind me again why you thought I’d be the perfect fake girlfriend for this event?” I laugh shakily.
Cole threads his fingers through mine. “Well, seeing as you’re my real girlfriend, I’m not sure why the fake girlfriend part is relevant.
And because you’re beautiful. And you’re funny and smart and the only person I want by my side as I survive my mother and all the people who will be judging me at this thing. ”
“Maybe we should make a code word. Something to signal the other person when we need an escape.”
“I like that.” He smirks, wiggling his brows. “How about squirt?”
I tilt my head at him, fighting an eye roll. “Something we can easily work into a conversation. Squirt isn’t exactly a subtle word. How about croissant? Since you’re such a fan of them.”
He turns my hand over and places a kiss to my wrist that I feel all the way to my core, his tantalizing gaze on me as he does. “Baby, I’m a fan of everything about you. Your chocolate croissants are delicious but nothing beats what’s between your luscious thighs.”
“Cole,” I whine, frustration blooming low in my belly. “You can’t start talking dirty to me five minutes before I’m supposed to interact with your family.”
“Why?” He chuckles, like the cocky asshole he is. “Maybe I want you a little squirmy. A little needy.”
“You’re mean.” I pout.
He tugs me in for a kiss. “But I’ll be really nice to you later.”
“Can you guys stop making out?” a voice calls to us from outside Cole’s truck.
We turn in unison and find Blake staring at us, looking every bit the little brother he is.
“I’m going to beat his ass,” Cole grumbles as he gets out and comes around to my side to help me out.
I giggle as I take notice of Blake’s mischievous smirk.
“A little privacy next time, you little shit,” Cole says. “Don’t go around lurking like a creep when I’m with my girl.”
“I wasn’t lurking,” Blake defends, barely holding in a laugh. “Mom told me to come find you two. Blame her.”
“I will,” Cole says under his breath.
“How’s it going, Ariana?” Blake comes up to me and pulls me in for an embrace.
“Hi,” I reply, my voice muffled against his big arm. He’s about the same build as Cole but slightly bulkier due to his more physical job.
“Alright, that’s enough.” Cole drags me out of his brother’s arms. “Go hug your own date.”
Blake’s brows shoot skyward. “Sierra and I don’t hug. And she’s my plus one, not my date.”
“Is there a difference?” I ask hesitantly, not quite sure what the dynamic between Blake and Sierra is.
“They’re ‘best friends,’“ Cole air-quotes.
“Bro,” Blake cuts in. “We are best friends. Unlike you, I’m capable of being friends with the opposite sex and not wanting to jump their bones. It’s called self-control.”
“So you admit it then—you want to fuck her.”
“What?” Blake’s voice pitches high. “No, that’s not what I said. You’re twisting my words.”
I cover my mouth with my hand to hide my laughter.
“Blake,” a woman calls from inside. “Can you come help me really quick?”
“Your girlfriend is calling you,” Cole teases.
Blake turns around but not before flipping Cole off.
I playfully smack Cole’s chest as I watch Blake disappear inside. “Don’t tease him so hard. Maybe they really are just friends.”
Cole drapes his arm around me, guiding us in.
“Oh, they are just friends. I just like giving him a hard time because it’s only a matter of time before one of them breaks.
Sierra’s a pretty girl and Blake is a Benton—we’re an attractive breed, if you didn’t know.
” I laugh at that, shaking my head. “One day they’re going to realize that whatever they are, it’s sure as shit a lot more than friends. ”
I've been to lots of weddings. Most of them at Ledger, helping out Elyse in her event coordinator role. Very rarely am I wowed by one after having seen so many.
But this one is definitely wow-worthy.
My expectations were low since Benton Winery doesn't usually host weddings, yet everything has been pulled together beautifully. Decorated timelessly and still small and cozy, mostly family and close friends.
An extravagant affair is nice, though there's something to be said about an intimate gathering.
This is exactly the kind of wedding I would want to have.
I look around, taking in all the details.
And I'm embarrassed to admit this is my first time stepping foot in Benton.
Not because I've actively avoided it, but when your family is in the wine business, there's really no need to check out the other wineries around town. And being a Ledger, I know I'd stick out amongst the sea of tourists.
Where Ledger is very French-inspired, Benton leans more into a Spanish, desert style.
A stucco exterior with orange clay tile roofing, warm terracotta walls that glow almost amber in the late afternoon sun.
Iron lanterns hang from wooden beam archways, casting everything in a soft, honeyed light.
It's a beautiful space and I can see why the estate and property alone keep my family's winery on its toes.
We gather in a grotto-like area, a wall of large rocks serving as the backdrop.
Whitney is escorted down the aisle by her mother, looking stunning in her form-fitting gown as she and Jacob exchange their vows.
The ceremony is short and sweet, and soon we find ourselves sharing a table with Cole's parents and siblings.
Nora made an excuse for Levi's lack of attendance, some work event he couldn't miss. No one prodded her about it but I could tell no one was surprised either.
"That dress looks beautiful on you, Ariana," Cristina, Cole's mom, says.
I smile my thanks at her, my cheeks heating from her compliment.
"Maybe," she continues, "it won't be long before we're all back here for another wedding."
She winks at me like we're sharing a secret when her delivery lacked an ounce of subtlety. Which I think was intentional.
Cole is a stiff rod of tension in the seat next to me. I can't tell if he wants to bolt or scream.