Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 107710 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 539(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107710 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 539(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
Was it possible . . . he was here to visit August and those flowers were for her? More than possible. It was likely. Who else could this man know in a town where he didn’t reside?
As the flower salesman went about wrapping the roses in paper, Natalie approached, clearing her throat softly. “Excuse me, Commander Zelnick. It’s me. Natalie. August’s wife.” There was no way to stop the smile that spread across her mouth after saying those words, so she simply let it grow and held out her hand for a shake. “I think you’re buying me flowers?”
After a moment of clear confusion, he merely looked chagrined. “I’m sorry.” He shook her hand once, firmly. “I didn’t recognize you.”
I don’t recognize myself these days.
At least all the new, good parts.
Natalie nodded. “I thought as much.” She gestured to her dusty jeans. “We’ve spent some time out working in the vineyard today, cultivating the soil. I ran to the store to grab some ingredients for dinner—more than enough for three. I assume you’re on your way to see August?”
“I am. Have to keep a soldier on his toes.” He accepted the bouquet from the vendor, hesitated, then handed them to her with a slight blush, making her laugh.
“They’re beautiful. Thank you. And you’re right, I’m definitely the roses type.”
“Excellent.” He handed the man behind the counter a twenty and told him to keep the change. “I suppose I’ll see you in a few minutes at Zelnick Cellar. I’m interested to see how August has taken advantage of my investment. Maybe some new equipment, or . . .”
He trailed off, expecting Natalie to jump in with an answer. She didn’t have one.
Investment?
Obviously not picking up on the fact that she was stunned, the man continued on while unearthing his car keys from the pocket of his slacks. “I know it has been only a few weeks, but I’m eager to see what improvements have been made.”
A few weeks.
The commander had given August money? For the vineyard?
They’d been in such a happiness haze since returning from New York, they hadn’t really spoken about the missed appointment with Ingram at the bank. They’d made no move to reschedule. August hadn’t even brought it up. If his commanding officer had given August an investment weeks ago, had he ever needed a bank loan in the first place?
Had he been keeping a secret, too?
Had he even needed to marry her?
“What investment?” she croaked.
* * *
August took the rag out of his back pocket and swiped it across his sweaty brow, a smile curving his lips when he heard a car pull up in front of the house. Honey, I’m home. He’d been begging Natalie to utter that phrase just once and she’d refused, but he’d get it out of her eventually. Maybe tonight. Maybe now.
He stripped off his shirt.
Went to the back door and did a few pull-ups on the doorframe, hoping it would make his muscles pop. His wife was a sucker for these pecs, which was only fair, because he was a sucker for her. The week since returning from New York was not just the happiest of his life, it was the happiest of anyone’s life, and he’d fight whoever disagreed.
As if he could even locate enough irritation inside himself to throw a punch. He was all sunshine and doves below the neck these days. His wife was really his wife. She was happy with him. She actually fucking loved him back, this human work of art. With every passing day, he discovered more about her, too. Her ticklish spots, her very precise routine in the shower that involved around nine different products, all of which smelled like goddamn heaven, the silly voice she used to speak to the cat when she thought he couldn’t hear.
The hopeful way she talked about her family as they continued to reconnect, the intent way she listened, like she couldn’t wait to be his confidant, the way she sometimes just needed a rubber band for her hair. Seriously, he’d started keeping a collection of the little black bands on his wrist, because she could never seem to find one, despite the fact that they were everywhere in the house. Sometimes all he had to do to make her smile was hand her a rubber band so she could put her hair up in one of those crazy knots. The first time it happened, she’d looked at him like he’d just turned his chair around for her on The Voice.
They fought over control of the television remote.
They fought over a lot of things.
She couldn’t cook for shit.
And he loved her with the fire of a thousand suns.
Which made those fights end pretty damn quickly, because his chest started to sting and all he wanted was to make her happy again. It helped that she didn’t like fighting with him anymore, either. She’d grumped at him this morning before her coffee and two minutes later, she’d been crawling onto his lap at the dining room table with apology kisses. Leading to apology sex. His nuts were back in a knot right now, just thinking about how she’d pouted the word sorry against his mouth, straddling him.