Page 123 of Bottle Shock
“I wish I could sleep that hard,” I muse, my eyes flashing to the rearview mirror at a snoring Lily.
Gavin chuckles. “That’s the kind of sleep you get when you don’t have a worry in the world. No bills, no responsibilities.”
“I guess that means you’rea good dad. Not all kids are lucky enough to live without worry.”
The words linger between us. Gavin doesn’t answer right away, instead, he reaches over and threads his fingers with mine, his thumb brushing slow circles over my skin.
“You amaze me,” he says, voice low. “Everything you’ve gone through—most people would’ve shattered. But you didn’t.I don’t think I’ve ever known anyone as incredible as you.”
I swallow around the growing lump of emotion in my throat and fix my gaze blankly out the window for moment, trying to hold back the flood about to break behind my eyes.
There’s a raw sort of ache in my chest, like I’ve never been so exposed—so seen. My instinct is to fold in on myself, to hide, to make myself small.But with Gavin, that’s impossible. He sees everything—even the parts of me I keep tucked in their dark corners.
This conversation took a turn I’m not prepared to deal with so I let out a weak laugh—more breath than sound.
“You really know how to ruin a girl’s mascara.”
It’s a joke. A deflection.
And we both know it.
His fingers tighten just slightly around mine—like he heard the truth under the words.
By the time we get back to Red Mountain, the sun is dipping low and golden across the vineyards. Lily unbuckles out of her booster in the driveway and turns to me.
“Dad said you’re staying in the pool house.”
I steal a glance at Gavin before nodding slowly. “I am. Is that okay?”
She nods vigorously. “Yes! But if you get lonely you can sleep in my room. Or Dad’s. His bed is bigger than mine.”
It takes everything in me not to break my smile, even though I’m sure my skin is flaming red. Gavin chokes on a laugh, the kind he tries to swallow and absolutely fails at.
“I think we’ll stick to our own beds for now, bear,” he says gently, reaching over to ruffle her hair.
She shrugs, completely unbothered. “Okay. I’m just trying to be a good host.”
I meet Gavin’s eyes over the roof of the car as Lily skips toward the door.
“You like my big bed, don’t you, baby?” he murmurs, just for me.
I bite back a laugh, rolling my eyes.
“I like your big dick too.”
CHAPTER 33
Gavin
GOTTA KEEP MY MAN FED
Harvest hasn’t even started yet, and somehow I’m still buried up to my neck in work.
I’m transferring a test batch of Chardonnay into a neutral French oak barrel when I hear footsteps echo through the production bay. Nobody walks in here without calling out first—too many hazards, too much equipment—so whoever it is isn’t an employee.
And then I hear her voice.
“Are you in here?”
