Chapter 37
aria
The breeze carries the scent of grapes as the California sun bathes the valley in that golden sheen you only get in wine country. Rows of vines stretch behind us, fruit heavy, almost ready for harvest. Beyond them, gentle hills rise and fall like a sigh.
Knight’s Tale is set up for my dream wedding—simple and intimate.
A long table is set under a wisteria-covered pergola, linen napkins folded beside plates, Wildflowers tucked into simple glass vases.
There’s laughter spilling over wine and the clinking of glasses. The source of which are people from Wildflower Canyon and Knight’s Tale.
My husband, Maverick, rests his arm across the back of my chair as he listens to Zane embellish a story about a horse and him and an adventure that sounds like it’s out of a Western.
Joy’s laughing so hard she’s crying.
Elena’s trying not to choke on her wine.
Vera is holding Elena’s son on her hip while talking to Nadine and Clayton McKnight, my erstwhile employer and owner of the vineyard we got married at.
My friend and Clayton’s wife, Sanya, smiles at me from across the table, raising her glass.
Tomas and Duke are arguing over who’s a better roper.
Kaz is growling at the bartender Bree is flirting with.
Dr. Sarah Kirk, our veterinarian and someone who has become a dear friend, is talking earnestly to Clayton’s mother, who is an Obstetrician-Gynecologist. Apparently, they have a lot in common when it comes to birthings.
We got married in the vineyard courtyard with no aisle, no fluff.
Just Maverick and me, standing in our boots beneath a simple arch of reclaimed vine and wild roses.
He said, “I love you for who you are and who you never stopped trying to be.”
And I said, “With you, I’m never afraid of starting over.”
We meant every word.
Our lives are almost boring, I feel, after all the drama of sabotage and Celine’s machinations.
“How long do we need to stay here? I’d really like to get on with the fuckin’ part of the wedding,” Maverick murmurs, his voice warm against my neck.
My eyes twinkle with excitement and unfiltered happiness. “You’re such a romantic.”
He chuckles, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “I was thinking—”
“That’s dangerous.”
He kisses me. “What if we bought a vineyard? Nothing fancy. Just a small patch. Something to visit in the winters.”
I laugh, low and surprised. “You’re joking.”
“I’m dead serious. We’ll come out here during the off-season. Raise babies among the vines. Sell wine and beef as a package.”
My husband, I have discovered, is an entrepreneur. There’s a reason Kincaid Farms has grown the way it has.
Maverick can’t sit still. He’s always thinking of the next thing and the next. His excitement about how we can improve operations and add to the business is contagious, if exhausting.
“God, Maverick—” I shake my head. “Life with you is going to be an adventure, isn’t it?”
He grins mischievously. “Damn right.”
The music swells behind us—Clayton’s playing acoustic, and Joy’s dragging Zane up for a dance.
I rise and offer Maverick my hand.
“Come on, cowboy,” I say. “Let’s dance.”
He tugs me into his arms like I belong there, which I do.
“This is it. This is everything,” he says, a little choked up on emotion.
I nod, feeling the intensity of us. “And it’s only just beginning.”
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