Page 19 of Bourbon Wishes (Wine Country Alphas #3)

"Smart choice." Knox Mikhail is a goddamn Russian giant who loves his daughters beyond reason. I would not want to be on the man's bad side.

"Why are you calling me?" my twin asks again.

"I need a favor."

"If I agree to whatever it is, will it get you off my phone faster?" he sighs, exasperated.

"I want to give Constance my shares of the winery, effectively making her co-owner with the rest of you."

"What?"

"Before you say no, I'm marrying her," I growl. "But before I can do that, I need to not be her boss. This is the best way to accomplish that."

"We've never taken on a partner."

"Yes, we have. Uncle Nathan did the same thing with Aunt Brooke."

"Wait, really? When?"

"Before they got married."

"I didn't know that."

"Me either. I just talked to Miriam. I guess Aunt Brooke grew up in foster care, and he wanted to make sure she knew she had a place here, so they added her as a co-owner of the winery before they got married. It was his engagement gift to her."

"Huh. Did Constance grow up in foster care or something?"

"No. But it's complicated."

"Her family situation?"

"Our situation."

"Ah," he says, a smile in his voice. "She told you to fuck right off when you asked her to marry you, didn't she?"

"No," I snap. "I haven't asked her yet."

"Why the fuck not? You scared she'll tell you to fuck right off?" When I don't respond, he stops laughing. "Damn. You really are worried about it, aren't you?"

"I'm currently her boss."

"So?"

"She can't marry her boss. It's a whole thing." I pinch the bridge of my nose, pausing halfway between my house and my parents' place. "Do you want an explanation, or do you want to get your fiancée pregnant?"

"Good point. Do whatever you want. I'll sign off on it." He chuckles again. "Especially if you're jumping through all these hoops just to get her to marry you."

"As if you didn't do the same for Zoya." He relocated to Tennessee just after the New Year, so they wouldn't be half a country away while she finished school. He's spent the last several months working with a whiskey distillery there on our new whiskey.

"Damn right I did," he growls. "And you know what? I don't fucking regret it."

"I won't regret this either," I murmur. There isn't a doubt in my mind about that. If she won't marry me when I'm her boss, I simply won't be her boss any longer. Problem solved.

"Then good for you," my twin mutters.

"Thanks. I guess I'll let you go…do your fiancée."

"Dick," he says, chuckling.

"Oh. Hey. One more thing."

"Why is there always one more thing with you?" he groans.

"What do you think about hiring a new social media manager?"

"Uh, isn't that Constance's job?"

"Currently, yes. But I have other ideas for her."

"What ideas? You know what? I don't actually care. Do whatever you want, just get off my fucking phone already."

"Fine. Just remember you said that."

"Whatever. Bye, dick."

"Talk to you later," I say, chuckling as he hangs up on me.

I start to tuck my phone in my pocket and then pause to fire off a text to Haven.

Me: I need a favor.

Haven: What?

Me: Can you get Constance's job listed?

I barely have the message sent before she's calling me.

"What do you mean, list her job?" she growls in my ear. "That's her job. If you're thinking about taking her job from her, I swear to God, Bastian, I'll…"

"Jesus Christ, do you have any faith in me?"

"Do you really want me to answer that right now?" she asks, pure venom lacing the saccharine question.

"She's working her ass off all day, every day. I figured someone else could handle our social media so that she can focus on other things."

"What things?"

Carrying my babies.

I figure I probably shouldn't say that part, though. If Haven doesn't kill me for it, Constance definitely will when she finds out.

"Her talents go beyond social media management. With this new alcohol line launching soon, and Ridley adding Ambrosia Kisses to the winery menu, we need a helluva lot more than just social media management help."

"Fine," she sniffs. "I'll do it before I leave today. But you need to talk to her about it before then because she's not going to be happy."

"Why won't she?"

Haven snorts. "Do you know her at all, Bastian?"

"Yes," I growl.

"Then you should know the answer to that question," she snaps, like she thinks I don't know Constance better than I know myself at this point. Will she be pissed? Yeah, probably. But once she knows the full scope of what I'm doing, she'll understand why I'm doing it.

We can't work together, at least not like we have been.

So long as she feels like she answers to me in any way, she'll never give us a real chance.

She'll always fucking worry that we'll fuck it up and she'll lose the things that matter to her.

So, I'm giving up every bit of control I have over her.

She'll be a co-owner of the winery in my place.

She'll have her own department and whatever title she wants. We'll be on equal footing in every way.

If that isn't enough to show her that she's it for me…fuck, I don't know what I'm going to do. Probably lose my mind and drag her to the altar kicking and screaming.

"Are you even listening to me?" Haven cries into the phone.

"Yes, I'm listening. And I hear you," I sigh. "I'll talk to her about it."

"Good," she retorts. "You owe me for this."

"If you'd keep your cousins out of my damn office, I'd give you the moon, baby cousin."

"I don't want the moon. And it's weird how them bugging you sounds so much like a you problem to me. They are not my circus or my flying monkeys."

"Monkeys don't fly."

"Your jackass cousins do. Get off my phone."

I chuckle when she hangs up on me, exactly like Jareth did. Before I can even tuck my phone in my pocket, it dings with an incoming message.

I grin when I see that it's from Constance.

Constance: Did you know there's a harvester rusting behind the winery?

Me: Yes. Why?

Constance: Because I'm pretty sure Ridley and Paisley were just having sex back there.

Me: Jesus Christ. Again?

Constance: Wait. You knew they had sex back there?

I can't help but smile at the question. How did she not know? They've been fucking all over the property damn near since Paisley got here.

Me: Baby, I'm pretty sure everyone has sex back there. Lucy and Oliver probably conceived their baby back there.

Constance: We've never been back there.

"Jesus," I mutter, tripping over a fucking root. If she's suggesting she wants to have sex behind the winery, I'm not telling her no.

Me: Meet me there when you're finished for the day.

Constance: I have plans, remember?

Shit. I forgot about her going to Los Angeles for the night.

Her future sister-in-law, Sutton, is performing at an awards show tomorrow and invited her down to visit.

I guess they were going to come and see her after the show, but something came up, and they have to fly back to Nashville immediately after the show tomorrow.

Constance thought about canceling, but I wouldn't let her.

She rarely gets to see her family, and I know how much she misses her brother.

Hell no, she's not canceling her chance to see him because of me.

Me: Meet me behind the winery, baby. I won't keep you long.

Constance: Liar.

Me: I'll be on my best behavior.

It's not actually a lie. I won't let her miss going to see her brother.

But I need ten minutes alone with her first to talk to her about all of this shit.

And, quite frankly, I need her in my arms before she goes.

She's been in my bed every night since I lied to get her to dinner.

I won't sleep a wink tonight without her. I need to see her before she goes.

She sends back a side-eye emoji, which I take to mean she thinks I'm full of shit. And then she follows it up with an eggplant and a raindrop. I guess that means she wants me to fuck her against the harvester before she goes.

Like I didn't already plan on doing that.

I can be quick. I know how to have her coming all over me in two minutes flat at this point.

I tuck my phone in my pocket, jogging up the driveway to my parents' house. I find my dad standing on the porch, a beer in one hand and a smile on his face.

"I thought that was you stumbling down the path," he says, tipping his head to the side, a question in his gaze.

"I was on my phone," I mutter, climbing up the steps to meet him.

"Ah." His eyes crinkle. "Nathan warned me that you would probably find your way over here soon. Miriam called him."

"Jesus. Are there any secrets in this family?"

"Fuck no," he smirks. "There hasn't been a secret in this family in thirty years, kid. Your mother and your aunts have regular meetings to share any hint of gossip."

"Uh, I'm pretty sure you and my uncles gossip as much as they do."

"Fuck yeah, we do. How the hell else are we supposed to keep tabs on them?" He cocks a brow at me like he thinks I'm slipping or something. "You know damn well what they're like."

I smile because, yeah, I do know what my mom and aunts are like. And I also know that my dad and uncles love it.

My cousins and I have all been scarred by the things we've accidentally walked in on or heard.

Believe me, no teenager ever wants to walk into the kitchen after football practice to see his dad's bare ass or hear his mom moaning.

Honestly, therapy should have been part of our inheritance.

We probably all need it after the shit we've seen. Our parents are sickeningly in love.

I'd be lying if I said I don't want the same goddamn thing with Constance. In thirty years, I want to be the motherfucker chasing her around the house like getting inside her is my only job.

I lean against the porch railing, glancing toward the door. "Is Ma home?"

"She's in the kitchen."

"Does she know what I'm planning?"

"Nah, I didn't tell her," Dad murmurs. "I figured you'd want to do that." He eyes me, his expression soft. "I'm proud of you, son."

"For what?"

"Being you," he says simply.

I clear my throat, glancing away. "I'm worried as hell that I'm going to fuck it up."

"You want to know something? I've had your mother for over thirty years, and I still live in fear of fucking up and losing her. When the worst possible thing you can imagine is losing them, that's how you know it's real."

"Yeah," I murmur. Christ, losing Constance is the worst possible thing I can imagine. The vineyard has always been my life, but I think she might be my soul. There is no competition there. I need her in a way I've never needed anything.

"You'll fight every day to keep her because she matters to you more than anything ever has. You can't fuck that up." He pats me on the back. "Now, go on inside and talk to your mom."

I jerk my head in a nod, rising to my feet. And then I pause. "You think she'll agree?" I ask, worried she might say no and send my plan crumbling to dust.

"I think if it's important to you, it's important to your mom," he says. "And I think she'd move heaven and earth to make sure you end up with the woman bringing you back to life in a way you haven't been in years."

"Shit," I mutter, clearing my throat again. "I've been breaking her heart, huh?"

"She worries about you more than any of the other kids," Dad admits, not lying to me.

"You work too much. You made the vineyard your life instead of letting it make your life fuller.

She never wanted that for you." His lips quirk into a grin as he takes a pull from his beer.

"But something tells me that won't be a problem any longer. "

"No," I say softly. "I don't think it will."