Page 70 of Wine or Lose

But that comfort was dangerous for so many reasons, the main one being that, at the end of the day, we were still CEO and CFO, boss and employee. It’s why I’d tried to push him away before—because I couldn’t stand the thought of my entire life blowing up in my face if things between us went south. My parents would be so disappointed, and while my sisters were supportive of whatever—and whomever—I did, they probably wouldn’t be singing the same tune if the company was forced to replace one of us to avoid further scandal in the wake of what would ultimately be boiled down to an illicit affair.

And him telling that reporter earlier that he’s my boyfriend? That’s the kind of publicity Ididn’tneed, the kind of shit that could fuck me, and not in the good way.

God, I didn’t even want to think about what would happen when my dad found out.

But for now, I let Cal rise from the bed and head into the bathroom for a towel, then clean me up before tossing it across the room, climbing in next to me, and nestling us both under the covers, my back to his chest, his hand splayed across my stomach.

While my mind continued to spin out, attempting to marshal my thoughts and make sense of everything I was feeling, Cal was quiet enough for long enough that I thought he’d fallen asleep.

Until he spoke.

“Question for you,” he said.

“Shoot.”

“What’s your endgame for the winery? Like…what’s the biggest thing you want to accomplish in your tenure as CEO?”

“To become a household name.”

The answer flew from my lips. It was something I’d been considering for a long time, the deep, secret wish never far from the forefront of my brain.

“Like...Barefoot?” Cal asked skeptically.

“No, not like Barefoot, you goon,” I said with a laugh, pinching his arm for the stupid response. “More like…Josh. You know, like how Joseph Carr founded Josh as a tribute to his dad? Those family-first beginnings are the kinds of stories people can identify with. And what’s more ‘family first’ than a winery headed by four generations of Delatous? That’s a big motivating factor for getting our sales reps up there this fall. I want them to meet us all—me, Mom and Dad, my sisters, Liam and Ezra, maybe even you”—I poked him in the stomach, and he caught my hand, quickly pressing a kiss to the back before locking our fingers together and settling them at my waist—“and understand that the whole ‘family owned and operated’ line on our website and bottles isn’t just some schtick.”

I shrugged when I finished, not sure anything I said made any sense to Cal. For all intents and purposes, he was an outsider at Chateau Delatou and within the company. He hadn’t grown up playing hide and seek in the vineyard, or celebrating holidays at the Villa or the winery. Hell, he hadn’t even grown up in the area. It was different for him. Despite his tenure with the company, he was still an outsider, a newbie. And while I knew he wanted the company to succeed, our situations were not the same.

There was just something special about being a Delatou and working for the company. Our products didn’t exactly convey that, but I was certain I could convince anyone of it if I only managed to get them into a room with me.

Cal buried his face in my neck and said against my skin, “I think those sales reps will take one look at you and buy anything you’re selling before you even say a word.”

I rolled my eyes. Leave it to him to take a vulnerable moment for me and turn it sexual.

“Half of those sales reps are women.”

“My point still stands,” he said. “You should wear one of those flouncy little sundresses with the ties at the shoulders and flowy skirt that hits high above your knees. These legs, Mar,”—he ran his broad palm up and down my thigh—“could make anyone do anything.”

“Anything?” I asked, shifting in his arms to face him and reaching between us to palm his hardening cock.

“Anything,” he confirmed.

“In that case,” I said, shoving him onto his back and climbing atop him, his hands continuing their slow exploration of my legs, “I have a few ideas.”

In the week sincethe Tigers game, Amara had done her best to avoid me, both at work and after. When we’d left Detroit, I thought everything was great, but apparently not. Every text I sent either went unanswered or received a one or two word response. Every time I stopped into her office, she barely looked at me andalwaysmade sure the door stayed open.

Something was up with her, and today, I was making it my mission to find out what.

It helped that it was the Fourth of July and her parents were hosting a party at their house. If I had it my way, Amara and I would clear the air between us and end the night wrapped in each other’s arms.

Parking my car at her house and walking the mile to her parents’ may have been a bit presumptuous, but I wanted to ensure she couldn’t run away from me if it came down to that.

When I arrived at the Delatous’, Skye hooked on the leash dangling from my hand, regret over walking sat heavily on my shoulders like the sweat sliding down my back and face. I skirted the house and joined the group of people in the backyard, going unnoticed for the moment. Before I sought out Amara, I beelined for the food table and used a stack of napkins to mop the worst of the perspiration from my skin, then headed to the bar for a glass of water. Once I slammed it—and two more refills that had my internal temp slowly dropping—I switched to beer. I’d trained Skye well, and she remained glued to my side, only interacting with other partygoers if they gave her attention first.

“Calvin!” a voice called out my name from behind me, and I turned to find Lena Delatou practically gliding across the concrete patio to join me in the shade. She settled her hands on my shoulders and pressed a kiss to my right cheek, then left, offering me a smile as she scratched Skye behind her ears. “It’s wonderful to see you. I feel like it’s been forever since we’ve had the chance to chat.”

Yeah, since that lunch where I insulted your daughter in front of you. And now I’m fucking her! Funny how things change!

“I’ve been busy with work,” I said instead, shrugging my shoulders in awhat-can-you-dokind of way.

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