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)
“I’m afraid . . . ” began one of the judges, visibly flustered. The crowd whispered behind August. “I’m afraid something must have gone terribly wrong during your process.”
“Yes . . .” The other judge laughed behind his wrist. “Or a step was left out entirely.”
The rows of people behind him chuckled, and Natalie’s attention strayed in that direction. She opened her mouth to say something and closed it again. Normally, she wouldn’t hesitate to cut him off at the knees, so what was this? Pity? She’d chosen this moment? This moment, when he needed to walk out of here with some semblance of pride, to go easy on him?
Nah. Not having it.
He didn’t need this spoiled, trust-fund brat to pull her punches. He’d seen shit during combat that people on this well-manicured lawn couldn’t even fathom in their wildest dreams. He’d jumped out of planes into pitch-black skies. Existed on pure stubbornness for weeks on end in the desert. Suffered losses that still felt as though they’d happened yesterday.
And yet you couldn’t even make decent wine.
He’d failed Sam.
Again.
A fact that hurt a damn sight more than this rich girl judging him harshly in front of these people he’d probably never see again after today. In fact, he needed Natalie to just drop the hammer already, so he could show her how little he cared about her opinion. It was his friend’s dream never being realized that should hurt. Not her verdict.
August propped his hands on the judging table and leaned forward, seeing nothing but the beautiful, black-haired dream haunter and watching her golden eyes go wide at his audacity. “You’re not waiting for a bribe, are you? Not with a last name like Vos.” He winked at her and leaned down until only Natalie could hear the way he dropped his voice. “Unless you’re hoping for a different kind of bribe, princess, because that can be arranged.”
She threw wine in his face.
For the second time.
Honestly, he couldn’t even blame her.
He was lashing out over his failure and Natalie was a convenient target. But he wasn’t going to apologize. What good would it do? She already hated him and he’d just found a way to strengthen that feeling. The best thing he could do to make up for the insult to Natalie was to leave town—and that’s exactly what he planned to do. He’d been given no choice.
With wine dripping from his five-o’clock shadow, August pushed off the table, swiped a sleeve over his damp face, and stormed across the lawn to the parking lot, failure like a thorn stuck dead in the center of his chest. He was almost to his truck when a familiar voice called out behind him. Natalie. Was she actually following him after the shit he’d said?
“Wait!”
Fully expecting to turn around and find a twelve-gauge shotgun leveled at his head, August turned on a booted heel and watched warily as the gorgeous witch approached. Why did he have the ridiculous urge to move in a fast clip back in her direction and catch her up in a kiss? She’d break his fucking jaw if he tried, but God help him, his dick/gut insisted it was the right thing to do. “Yeah? You got something else you want to throw in my face?”
“My fist. Among other, sharper objects. But . . .” She jerked a shoulder, appearing to search for the right words. “Look, we’re not friends, August. I get that. I insulted your wine the night we were going to hook up and you’ve resented me ever since, but what you said back there? Implying my last name makes me superior? You’re wrong.” She took a step closer, her heels leaving the grass and finding the asphalt of the parking lot. “You don’t know anything about me.”
He chuckled. “Go ahead, tell me all about your pain and suffering, rich girl.”
She threw him a withering sigh. “I didn’t say I’ve suffered. But I haven’t exactly coasted along on my last name, as you seem to believe. I’ve been back in St. Helena for only a few months. The last name Vos means nothing in New York.”
August leaned against the hood of his truck and crossed his arms. “I bet the money that comes with it does.”
She gave August a look. One that suggested he was truly in the dark—and he didn’t like that. Didn’t like the possibility that he was wrong about this woman. Mainly because it was too late to change his actions now. He’d always have to wonder what the hell he could have done differently with Natalie Vos. But at least he could walk away from this phase of his life knowing he’d done his best for Sam. That’s all he had.
“Did you ever want to get to know me? Or was it just . . .” Her attention dropped fleetingly to his zipper, then away, but it was enough to make him feel like he was back in that middle school pep rally trying not to get excited. “Just about sex?”