“What are you doing?” she asked, unable to keep the smile from her voice.
He didn’t answer immediately, instead blowing a gentle breath across the top of the crate, sending a fine puff of dust swirling in the firelight. “Finding the right way to end our evening,” he said at last, glancing back at her, his lips curved into a boyish grin that made her pulse do a ridiculous little stutter. “And hopefully begin our courtship.” His eyes met hers. “Officially, if I may.”
Maddie felt that familiar heat rising and sat up straight.
Her curiosity deepened as he lifted the lid and reached inside with deliberate care. After a moment, he stood and turned to face her, holding a dark green bottle in one hand and a well-loved corkscrew in the other. “This,” he announced softly, tilting the bottle toward her, “is from my parents’ wedding. We have only four bottles left.”
Maddie’s breath caught, her teasing smile faltering. The firelightplayed off the glass, illuminating the deep red liquid inside and the faded label on the front. “Sebastian,” she said, her voice lower now, more tentative. “You can’t mean to open it.”
He arched a brow at her, his expression equal parts amusement and resolve. “Why not?”
“It’s too precious!” she protested, standing and closing the small distance between them. She searched his face, hoping to find even a flicker of hesitation. Instead, what she found was warmth, unwavering and entirely directed at her.
“Nothing is too precious for you,” he said simply, the words so soft yet so sure that they stole the air from her lungs. “And this leaves three, one for the christenings of each child?” Maddie snorted at that but caught him smiling.
Again, she didn’t know if he was jesting or not.
Hopefully not.
He turned toward the cabinet, retrieving two delicately etched glasses. “These have Thomas’s grandfather’s initials.” The lodge might have been rustic, but clearly, sentiment had nestled itself in every corner.
Before she could argue further, he inserted the corkscrew into the bottle with practiced ease, drawing it out with a gentle pop. He tilted his head slightly, like a silent toast to the room’s quiet history, then poured a measure of the deep, ruby-colored wine into one of the glasses.
“Here,” he said, extending the glass toward her. “Try it.”
Maddie hesitated, her hands clasped tightly in front of her. She shouldn’t, she told herself. Not with something that carried so much meaning. But the way he was looking at her—with that quiet mix of hope and intensity, as though sharing this moment with her mattered more than the wine itself—left her powerless to refuse. Slowly, she took the glass, the stem cool against her fingers.
Sebastian filled his own glass, then paused. He held the wine up tothe firelight, swirling it gently until the rich liquid caught the flickering ruby glow. “Just… let it breathe a little,” he murmured, his voice slightly hushed, as if they were standing in a cathedral rather than a quiet lodge. When he tilted the glass to his nose and inhaled, his eyes fluttered shut for the briefest of moments. “This is the same wine my father poured for my mother the day they were married. If I can share it with you, Maddie…” He opened his eyes, and there was something raw and unguarded in his gaze. “It means a small piece of them can be here with us today.”
Her chest tightened, that maddening ache that always came when he veered from his playful flirtations to something honest and unvarnished. She raised her glass to her lips, unsure whether she could trust her voice to form coherent words.
“I know what it means that we’re here alone tonight. And I want you to know that I am not taking it easy. Nor will I do anything you don’t wish.”
Understood.
She nodded more with gratitude than she dared.
The first sip was warmth and richness, tangy on her tongue yet smooth as it settled. Hints of dark berries and something faintly floral lingered after she swallowed, and the sensation was so vivid, so unexpectedly intimate, that she couldn’t help but glance up at him.
“Well?” he asked, his lips curving into the gentlest of smiles.
“It’s…” She paused, her eyes flicking to the glass in her hand as she struggled for words. “It’s extraordinary.”
Sebastian’s smile deepened, and he lifted his glass. “Cheers.”
Maddie tilted her own glass toward his but narrowed her gaze playfully. “Cheers to the disaster or the scandal?”
He paused mid-motion, his brow knitting slightly, though his grin never fully disappeared. “Neither. Cheers to us and what we make of it.”
Maddie didn’t sip right away. She simplystared at the man before her, the man who had just handed her a piece of his past as though it were no burden at all. A bottle of wine from his parents’ wedding. One of four. One of four, and he chose tonight. Chose her.
Her fingers tightened slightly around the stem of the glass. Her heart gave a quiet, dizzy lurch, not because of romance or scandal or the impropriety of the moment, but because something inside her recognized the intention behind it. It wasn’t grand. It wasn’t flashy. It was real.
Real was infinitely more terrifying.
She’d been courted before. Flirted with. Admired. But those attentions had always come with caveats. With expectations. With the unspoken understanding that she was being weighed and measured—her dowry, her connections, her usefulness as a wife.
But this?
