“Wait. You said you loved it. You looked like you were going to eat your lips.”
She huffs, then tosses a cloth napkin at me “I did not.”
“Oh.” I smirk. “You definitely did.” I begin sucking my lips into my mouth and moaning while I mock her. “Mmmm...this is soooo good.”
“I did not do that.” She glances around for something else to toss at me but comes up empty-handed. Her face is turning a lovely shade of pink and it’s cute.
Shifting the tone to a more serious note, I ask, “What do you think so far? Good surprise?”
“Are you kidding me? This is the best surprise.” Reaching into her purse, she brings her hand back up with her phone. “We have to go meet the guide.”
“What time is it?” I lean forward and look at her phone when she turns it toward me.
“Oh shit.” I toss my napkin down on the plate. “We gotta go. There is no way we are going to get all the way to the other side of this place in two minutes.”
Rowan glances around the table. “Do we just leave this stuff or do we bring it back inside?”
I take her hand in mine and begin pulling her away. “Leave it.” Once we are back inside, I pick up my pace, dragging her along with me. “And pick up your pace because I think we were supposed to take care of it ourselves.”
She begins laughing. “Nash, we have to go back then. We can’t just leave our mess.”
As she tries to stop me, I walk even faster. “All the more reason to move your feet.”
Her hand feels like satin in mine. Fingers interlocking without thought. Unintentional to start, but completely obvious once we come to a stop outside the main entrance. She looks down between us, then back up at me, and I swear I can feel her heartbeat through the pulse of her fingers. Rampant and sharp. Mimicking my own, because I can feel it in my chest. Pounding on the walls and taking my breath away. Only this time it’s not the scenery surrounding us, it’s the scene right before my eyes. The short brunette with eyes that won’t let go of mine. Fingers that dare to retreat but a mind that won’t let them. I feel it, and I know she feels it, too.
“Nash,” she whispers softly. “We have to hurry.”
Quickly, I drop her hand free. “Right, we better go.” I begin walking again, knowing she’s following right behind. “I think it’s this way.” I nod toward the left of the castle as we stay on the cobblestone path.
One more turn from the back and we spot a small gathering in front of us. “Mr. and Mrs. Whitmore?” a young man asks us.
“Yes,” I respond. “Well, no. I’m Mr. Whitmore…” My voice trails and I shake it off. He doesn’t care.
“I’m his sister-in-law,” Rowan chimes in, sending an awkwardness into the air that only she and I can feel.
No one would have believed that she was my sister-in-law two minutes ago when we were running down the stairs holding hands. They’d never believe it if they felt what I felt.
The electricity. The life she sent back into me with just her touch.
Now all I feel is shame.
Shame and guilt.
Chapter Eleven
Rowan
Something is different. Nash is definitely acting strange. “Everything okay?” I ask him quietly as the guide goes over the process. Something I should be listening to, but instead, all I can focus on is making sure that Nash and I are okay. We’ve made so much progress and I’d hate to lose it because of a momentary spark between us. I know he felt it. There is no way that he didn’t with the way he was looking at me. Eyes flooded with awe and lust, his thumb grazing over the skin of my hand. He may not have even noticed he was doing it, but I sure as hell felt it. And dammit if I didn’t like it. I’d give it back, though, if it cost us our friendship.
He looks over at me, resting his chin on his shoulder. “Just listening. Everything okay with you?” His voice lacks the excitement it had earlier.
Nodding, I offer him a smile. “Yeah, I’m fine.” His glance holds for a moment before he turns back to the guide.
“So, if you’ll follow me, I’ll take you inside where you can sample some of our wines that are available for the make-your-own.” Gary, the guide, waves for us to follow him down the cement staircase that leads to the basement of the castle.
Nash and I are last in line, and I use this as one more opportunity to clear the air. “It was nothing, Nash. Don’t think too much into it.” I look at him as I speak, but he holds his stare on the back of the elderly couple in front of us.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He plays dumb. He knows exactly what I’m talking about. But here we are again. He’s shutting down and putting his walls back up.
It’s probably best if I just leave it alone.
We sample three different wine options and both decide on the blackberry merlot. “Mmm, it’s sweet. I think this is a good choice.” I smack my lips together, wanting more.
“Not bad. A little too sweet, but they might let us ease up on the sugar. I’m not really sure how that works.” He chuckles, and I’m grateful that the day isn’t completely ruined.
Gary claps his hands together, snapping me out of me thoughts. “All right, if you’ve all made a decision, we will head to the fields for the fun part. Picking your fruit.”
A large wagon with an ivory canopy cover is waiting for us about twenty yards from the castle when we emerge from the basement. The driver sits on a green John Deer tractor attached to the wagon. The sun is now hiding behind the clouds and there’s a stillness in the air. A feather could drop and fall straight down to the quiet fields. Even the other couples with us have gone silent, following the nonstop chit-chat while sampling.
After a long couple of minutes, the engine of the tractor roars and Gary leads us over. It’s a big step up and I feel the firm grasp of Nash’s hands wrap around my waist, giving me a boost. Taking in a deep breath and not thinking too much into the way his hands felt on me, I take the first seat on the horizontal wooden bench. There is one on each side that extends the full length of the wagon. Nash sits down next to me as the other three couples scatter out. Nash leans close, his face brushing against my hair. “I’m sorry.”
Shocked, I jerk my head around to face him. “For what?”
“Being such a dumbass. Thinking too much into everything. Like you said, it’s no big deal.” He shocks me even more. How much wine did he drink? I’ve never heard Nash express any sort of emotion.
Lips curling at the seams, I whisper back, “You don’t have to apologize. Let’s just enjoy the day.”
His hand slaps down on my leg. “You’ve got the right idea, sis.”
There it is. Like a splash of cold water straight to the heart. I’m not sure why it bothers me so much. I am Nash’s sister-in-law. He is married to Gemma. Even if I did catch any sort of feelings for him, he’s off the table. He is not even sitting at it.
The wagon stops and lets off two of the couples. The elderly duo who are definitely marriage goals, and another who I don’t think have even said a word to each other. When we start moving again, it’s only two minutes before we stop and let off the other couple at the grape vines.