Page 57 of Bourbon Wishes
"Yeah." I tilt my head back, glancing up at him, only to find him staring down at me, a soft smile on his face. It looks good on him. "Did you really sign over your shares of the winery to me, Bastian?"
"I did," he murmurs.
"You didn't have to do that," I whisper, my heart in my throat. "The vineyard belongs to you and your family. It isn't mine."
"The vineyard is still ours, baby. I still have my part of it and the restaurant." His hand drifts down the back of my head again. "But you co-own the winery with my siblings and cousins now. I'm no longer your boss in any way."
I swallow hard. "We could have found a different way."
"Not one I could live with," he murmurs. "Not if it meant you walking away. You love working at the vineyard. I wasn't taking it away from you." His eyes blaze with sincerity. "I'll never take a goddamn thing from you, Constance."
"I don't want to take anything from you, either."
"You aren't."
"I beg to differ. You just gave me a winery that makes millions of dollars every year."
"I gave you part of a winery that makes millions every year."
"Same difference," I mutter.
He just chuckles in response.
"I'm serious, Bastian. It's too much."
"Baby." He sinks his hand into my hair, tugging my head back the way he always does. "Yeah, the winery makes a fuck-ton of money. You know what it doesn't make?"
"Apparently rational decisions, kind of like you."
His lips quirk into the ghost of a smile before he sobers again. "It doesn't make a life, Constance. It doesn't make me happy. It doesn't make me wild. It doesn't make me lose control or sofucking hard I can't see straight. You do that. So yeah, I gave you my shares. I can live without whatever money it'll make me. I can't live without you."
My chest pulses, warmth running through me in a current. "You make it really hard to be annoyed with you, you know."
"That's the plan." His hand slides down my back before prowling across my bare ass. "You're less likely to let me put my ring on your finger if you're pissed. I'm hedging my bets here."
I blink up at him, shocked. He mentioned marriage earlier, but…I guess I was pretending I was just hearing things. Clearly not, though. Because he's looking at me like he means exactly what he's saying. "You want to marry me?"
"Hell no." He flips me over onto my back, crawling over me. "I don'twantto marry you, Constance. I fucking need to marry you. I might not survive it if you don't have my ring on your finger and my kid in your belly soon." His teeth sink into the hollow of my throat. "I need every little fuck in town to know you're mine."
"We are not getting married or having kids just because you're irrational, Bastian Grayson!"
"Irrational?" He lifts his head, his eyes glittering dangerously. "There's nothing irrational about wanting to kill every motherfucker who looks at you, Constance. I know what you're worth. I know I'll never be good enough for you. But you're naked and dripping my cum right now anyway, so you're mine. I'm a lot of things, but stupid damn sure isn't one of them. I'm not letting you go now."
"You are good enough for me," I whisper, my voice fierce. "You're the best thing for me."
"Good," he grunts. "Then there's no reason for you to object to marrying me."
"You didn't even ask me," I complain.
"I just told you that I'm not stupid, baby." He nips my throat, hooking my leg up over his hip. "I'm not asking. I'm going to fuck you until you agree."
"Don't you dare!" I hiss.
But he dares.Of coursehe dares. And he wins. I let him think it's because he's exhausted me into submission, but that's not really it. The simple truth is…I'm not stupid either. I'm dying to be his wife.
He can't be any more of a control freak as a husband than he was as a boss…right?
Chapter Twelve
