Page 18 of Bourbon Wishes (Wine Country Alphas #3)

Bastian

" G et out of my fucking office," I growl, stopping in the doorway as soon as I see Trystan lounging on the sofa like an indolent king. I'm not in the mood for his shit today. I spent most of the night staring at the ceiling, worried as fuck that Constance is going to pull the plug on us.

After what she said, I can't help but worry about it. She's fucking scared.

How am I supposed to win her heart when she's literally terrified to give it to me?

I hate that she was right last night, but goddammit, she was.

There is a power imbalance between us, whether I want it there or not.

I'm her boss. Her future here rests with me.

Of course she thinks about that. It probably eats at her every minute of the fucking day.

Constance thrives on independence and making her own choices, on being in charge of her own fate. And in this situation…she isn't. I have all the power, whether I want it or not. If we don't work out, she loses her job, her friends, the place she's started to consider home.

There's no doubt in my mind that we're going to work out.

I refuse to accept anything less. But I know how her mind works.

I know she can't relax and stop worrying about the what-ifs so long as they exist. She isn't capable of just going with the flow and hoping it all works out.

She simply wasn't wired that way, not when she grew up in an entirely different world than mine.

We always had the vineyard. We always had money.

Constance didn't. Until her brother joined the military, they struggled.

And then she struggled because he was in the military.

We've talked about that some—about what it was like for her when he was overseas, and when he came home.

She's spent most of her life worried about something—having enough food on the table or her brother making it home.

This job is stability for her, it's peace.

And she's anxious as hell because she's doing the one thing she shouldn't do by sleeping with me: risking it.

So…I have to eliminate the problem. It's the only way she'll stop worrying about it and allow herself to fall into this completely.

"Well, someone is in a bad mood today," Trystan says, far too cheerfully for seven in the morning. "Rough night?"

I just grunt in response, stomping toward my desk.

"Damn." He swings into a seated position, his boots dropping to the floor. "It was a rough night if you're not telling me to fuck off again. What happened?"

I open my mouth to tell him to mind his damn business and then snap it closed.

Maybe I need to talk to someone about shit once in a while instead of trying to hold it all together myself.

And maybe that's what they need from me too—not me telling them what to do all the goddamn time, but talking.

Listening. Giving up a little bit of control.

"I fucked up."

"Jesus Christ," he groans. "If she quits, I'm killing you."

"She isn't fucking quitting."

"Are you sure?"

"She's worried that being with me is going to cost her everything." I scrub my hands down my face. "I'm her direct boss. All of her friends are my family members. She thinks everything will fall apart if we do."

"So…don't fall apart," he says, like that's the obvious solution.

"You think I haven't thought of that?" I scowl at him.

"I'm going out of my fucking mind, trying to figure out how to make her fall in love with me so I can put my ring on her finger.

She's my one. Hell will freeze over before I let her go.

But…she isn't wrong. She shouldn't be entirely dependent on me.

I shouldn't be her boss. It's not fair to her. "

Tryst nods like he agrees. "What are you going to do about it?"

That’s the million-dollar question, isn't it? How the fuck do I stop being her boss and prove to her that her home is here, no matter what? That, no matter what, her place here will always be secure?

"I don't know," I mutter, pinching the bridge of my nose.

Trystan eyes me silently for a long moment and then sighs. "Yeah, you do. You need to put that ring on her finger, man. Then she'll know."

"Are you even listening to me?" I scowl at him. "I need her heart first, and she's scared to give it to me because I'm her boss."

"So stop being her boss." He shrugs, hauling himself to his feet. "If that big ass brain of yours can't figure out how to do that, the rest of us are fucked." He cocks his head, spearing me with a look. "And if you think she doesn't already love you, you're an idiot."

"She needs a stake in the company," I mutter, ignoring him because I don't know what else to do. I hope like hell she's in love with me. I'm fucking dying for it, actually. But until I hear those words from her lips, I can't let myself believe it.

I know I'm an asshole who doesn't deserve her. She's sunshine and everything good in the world. It's brighter because she's in it. I'm the dick who makes life more complicated for everyone because I just can't let go or ease off. She has to know she's too good for me…right?

Existential dread thrums through me at the thought of her not knowing that she's a goddess. She should know it.

"That's…actually not a terrible idea," Tryst says, eyeing me like he's surprised I'm even considering it.

But it's the only solution. If she has a stake, a piece of it will always belong to her.

This place will be her home as much as mine, not because I put a ring on her finger, but because her name is written right there beside the rest of ours.

I won't be her boss any longer. The balance of power will even out.

I jerk to my feet, prepared to beg my entire damn family if that's what it takes. For some reason, I don't think it'll come to that, though. They all know Constance. They all love her. And, frankly, I think they'd choose her over me any day of the week.

"Where are you going?" Tryst asks as I stride toward the door.

"I need to talk to your brothers and your cousins."

"They're your cousins, too," he reminds me.

"They like you better."

"You know that's not actually true, right? You're a pain-in-the-ass, but you're our pain-in-the-ass, Bastian. We know how much you do for us," he says quietly. "We appreciate the hell out of you for it."

"It's my responsibility."

"No, it isn't. We're all responsible for this place, but you shoulder the brunt of the work so we don't have to do it.

We aren't stupid, man. We know how much you do and why.

You may pretend it's because you're a domineering bastard, but we know you do it for us.

" His lips quirk into a grin. "Why the fuck do you think we let you get away with being the biggest dick on the planet? "

"I wasn't aware you let me get away with anything," I say dryly, lingering near the door. "I'm almost positive you guys have a rotating schedule of who is supposed to be in my office, pissing me off at any given time."

"You think we plan that shit?" He laughs loudly.

"Please, motherfucker. The only one organized enough to draw up a calendar is Haven.

The rest of us just enjoy seeing your eye twitch, and if we don't come here to bug you, we'd go weeks without seeing you because you're always too goddamn busy plotting world domination to take a break and just fucking chill with the rest of us. "

I flip him off, which makes him laugh again.

"Before you go…I'm heading to San Diego for a few days."

My brows furrow as I turn a frown on him. "Why? I thought you were dealing with locating suppliers."

"Oliver is taking care of it. Wyatt called. His unit is being sent out on a mission." Tryst sighs. "He needs someone to watch Thanos until Aunt Cadence and Uncle Walker get back from Europe."

"Shit," I mutter, scrubbing a hand through my hair. Wyatt is a SEAL. He brought a retiring bomb dog, Thanos, home from his last mission. The dog has PTSD and can't be boarded, so Tryst usually brings him here to stay when Wyatt gets called up. "Where's he heading?"

"Classified," Tryst says, his expression grim.

I sigh heavily. "Take whatever time you need. We'll handle shit here."

"Thanks." He holds his fist out to bump mine. "Just do me a favor and don't fuck things up with Constance before I get back. I'm going to be pissed if she quits while I'm gone."

"She isn't fucking quitting."

"She better not."

B y late afternoon, I've tracked down and run my plan by most of my cousins.

They were all on board. Miriam even clued me in that Uncle Nathan did something similar for Aunt Brooke before they got married to ensure she always knew she had a home here, not just as his wife but because she belonged here.

I'm guessing he won't have a problem with me doing the same thing for Constance, but I won't make a decision that belongs to everyone without their input, too. I don't get to make a unilateral decision about a company that belongs to the entire family.

I call Jareth on the short walk to my parents' house to run it by him. The late afternoon sun beats down directly overhead, and I instantly regret making this walk in a suit. I strip out of my jacket, flinging it over my arm.

"Why are you calling me?" Jareth asks as soon as he answers.

"Hello to you too."

"I'm trying to get Zoya pregnant. You're fucking up the program."

I chuckle, not really surprised he's already on a mission to get her pregnant. I think he was on that mission as soon as he met her. But now that she's finished with school and she has his ring on her finger, he's moving full steam ahead.

"You'd better get through the wedding first. Knox will kill you if another of his daughters ends up pregnant before she's married."

"Why the fuck do you think I'm trying to make this wedding happen at the speed of light?" he grunts into the phone. "He likes me. I'm not fucking that up before we even say, 'I do'."