Page 41 of My Three Rivals

“It’s more than we know,” Wyatt said. “But we do know a bit about home improvement.”

My heart pounded harder as I realized that this wasn’t another ploy or gimmick to trick me into selling.

“Why?” I breathed, knowing I shouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth. “I mean… why are you doing such a one-eighty with your decision?”

“Because we don’t want to knock heads with you anymore,” Maverick told me, stepping closer to brush his fingers against my cheek.

“We really don’t,” Atticus agreed, reaching out a hand to pull my hair back softly, allowing Maverick to cup my face easier. My eyes darted toward Wyatt, who nodded, confirming what his partners had said and clarifying that all three knew about my intimate moments with them.

I exhaled a whoosh of breath I hadn’t even realized I’d been holding and let out a nervous laugh.

“So?” Atticus pressed. “What do you say?”

The oven timer beeped to inform me that the roast was ready to come out of the oven, and I grinned at them, stepping out from the Maverick and Atticus sandwich. “I say that you have another partner,” I replied, slipping on the oven mitts and again bending down to get the roast out.

Maverick’s hand slipped casually along my back to rest on my backside, forcing another grin onto my lips as I straightened out.

“You do realize that the vineyard is in the red, right?” I asked, removing the mitts.

“It is for now,” Maverick agreed. “But with our help, you’ll be able to see better profits than it’s ever seen before.”

“This place has potential,” Wyatt said from his spot at the table as I released the foil around the meat, releasing a stream of steam.

Atticus inhaled deeply, sliding off the counter to take the carving knife out of my hand.

“Why don’t you sit down? The boys and I can handle the rest,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

But I didn’t want to fight, their offer fully disarming me.

“O-okay,” I stuttered, giving them a sidelong grin. “I’ll set the table in the dining room.”

I was reluctant to amplify his enthusiasm, my inner belief that Five Penny was too far gone for any kind of savior at this point, but they were giving in—at least partially. And I didn’t have the money to buy them out, anyway. This was as good a solution as I could have asked for under the circumstances.

You hear that, Gran?I called to my grandmother’s invisible ghost, a happy smile formulating over my lips.The Five isn’t going anywhere yet. We still have hope for her.

CHAPTER18

Wyatt

It was distinctly surreal sitting around the dining table, all four of us, eating dinner like a few days ago, we weren’t plotting Tegan’s ultimate destruction. Tegan forked over the plates, chattering about something that I didn’t really hear as I tried to overcome the surrealness of the experience. It was bittersweet, twinging at something lost inside me in the most uncomfortable way.

Gone was the cloud of bitterness that had hung between Tegan and us, no longer threatening to smother me as she handed me a bowl of mashed potatoes, the waft of garlic making my mouth water.

I could count on one hand how many times I’d sat at a dinner table like this and enjoyed a meal in this fashion. Sure, the boys and I had gone out to fancy restaurants dozens, if not hundreds of times once we’d launched the company, but sitting down at a dining table in this old-school house, it was another feeling altogether.

“You’re really quiet, Wyatt,” Tegan commented observantly. “Are you not on board with the decision?”

Maverick snorted, amused. “He was the one who basically suggested it,” he replied for me as I swirled my fork on my plate.

Tegan continued to stare at me, her pale, slender fingers resting over her cutlery, poised over her piece of roast beef. “But something’s on your mind,” she pressed gently, worry creasing her brow.

Maverick and Atticus looked away, sensing my vague discomfort, and I shook my head.

“I’m just not really used to this kind of meal,” I admitted honestly.

Atticus cleared his throat again, and I stuffed a forkful of mashed potatoes in my mouth.

“None of us really are,” Maverick offered, trying to steer the conversation away from me, but Tegan wouldn’t leave it.

---