“Too late,” Ivy muttered, already typing.
Colette smiled. “There’s a tradition here. Brides drink from the first vintage of the season and walk barefoot to the altar. I’ve got a white blend that would pair perfectly with holy chaos.”
“I am going to cry,” Auri whispered, leaning her head briefly against my shoulder. And then she added, lower, just for me: “You’re really okay with this?”
I didn’t even hesitate. “What have I always said? I’d marry you in a parking lot or a church or a pit lane at midnight. Hell, I’d marry you in the dirt right now, baby. But this? This is magic. This is everything. This is…us.”
Colette clapped once, decisive. “Then it’s settled. Ceremony scouting on the walk. Glasses up.”
She passed fresh pours down the line, pale gold wine that caught the light and bounced it back in shards.
Auri turned back to me, wine glass trembling just a little, eyes shining. She lifted it and leaned in to me so only I could hear. “To the man who made the future feel less like a cliff and more like a hand to hold,” she whispered. “To the way you steady my storm, and to choosing you in every language my body knows. I love you, Callum Fraser. Now, later, always.”
My throat burned. I touched my glass to hers. “Now, later, always,” I echoed.
We both sipped, and then I slid my palm to the warm nape of her neck and drew her in. She rose onto her toes to meet me, her free hand cupping my cheek, the kiss soft and sure and absolutely devastating.
Colette gave us a moment, then raised her own glass, voice warm enough to melt the wind. “To roots that hold and winds that lift. To fruit that ripens because it was brave enough to weather rain. To first press and second chances, and to two souls who keep choosing each other—on purpose, every day. May your years taste like sun and joy and home.” She smiled, soft andcertain. “Stin ygeia mas—cheers to your forever, and love that stays.”
“To love that stays,” we all echoed.
We spilled out through the open doors in a small, buzzing procession. We were a group of unexpected friends, full of the kind of laughter that was soft, fizzy relief, the kind that followed after you survived the thing you were dreading. The earlier fury at Luminis didn’t vanish, but it loosened its teeth. The world made a different kind of commitment out here.
But nothing compared to the way Auri looked right now.
Her sundress fluttered around her thighs, her skin golden in the light. Her hair fell in loose, sun-warmed waves that were more tousled than styled, soft enough to sway when she turned, catching bits of light like threads of gold.
Colette led the group ahead, pointing out varietals and irrigation lines, but Auri was in her own world. She cradled her wineglass in one hand and used the other to gesture at the vines, easily keeping up with everything Colette mentioned. Bud-burst timing. Harvest thresholds. Canopy management. Things I didn’t even pretend to understand.
Auri moved like she belonged here and the land already knew her name. AndthatI understood, because she was the only language I cared to know.
“Look at the spacing between the rows,” she murmured, crouching to run her fingers through the dirt. The passion in her voice was evident. “They used to train these lower to the ground, but this height is perfect for air flow and water runoff. This slope is ideal, plus the light exposure?”
I couldn’t stop watching the way her eyes shone brighter than the glass in her hand, the way she walked through these vines like they were part of her blood.
“She’s always done this,” Colette said beside me, grinning as she topped off my glass with the bottle she’d brought with us. “Put her near a healthy grapevine and she practically faints.”
“I’ve noticed,” I said, dry as the finish on whatever I was drinking. “It’s fucking adorable.”
“I’d love to see what she could do with her green thumb. Maybe I could have her take a look at the olive trees.”
“I think if she could figure out how to make her family’s lavender fields thrive after all this time and turn it into a steady brand after she stepped away, she could help you with those.”
“Hmm. Perhaps.” Colette’s French accent was softer than Auri’s. It made me wonder if it was intentional, like my decision to cover my accent had been. If she was hiding from a past life, who knew what she was trying to keep covered up.
“You give that woman an opportunity to succeed, and she’ll blow your expectations out of the water.”
She grinned wryly. “You love her properly.” Her eyes cut to me with a knowing glint. “I’ve seen Aurélie in tasting halls and on competition floors for years. She’s always been sharp, intelligent, and untouchable. But with you?” She gestured at Auri, who was currently lecturing a vine like it had homework. “She glows. You look at her like an unwinnable fight you’re grateful to lose.”
“Unwinnable is right,” I said, and meant it.
Behind us, Ivy snapped a photo of Auri inspecting the vines. Marco pretended to steal a grape from a branch and got his hand smacked by Colette with an amused, “That’s not how that works, monsieur.” Kimi and Lucy drifted in step, trading little smiles that looked dangerously like hopeful beginnings.
Auri straightened, dusting her palms on her dress, and glanced back at me as if to check I was still there, still hers. I lifted my glass in a small salute. She grinned, and the sun looked dim by comparison.
“Tell me this isn’t perfect,” she said, voice hushed like we were in church.
“It’s better than perfect,” I answered. “It’s you.”
