“No.”
“You don’t know if this survives outside your perimeter.”
His jaw shifted once. “Tomorrow doesn’t erase today.”
The words were spare enough to survive witnesses and intimate enough to ruin me anyway, pressing into the place beneath my ribs where last night had been sitting all morning.
“Nick.”
“I’m not asking you for an answer in a cellar.”
“How generous.”
“I’m asking you not to turn this into something you can dismiss because the timing is inconvenient.”
He wasn’t asking me to give anything up, and somehow that made my hesitation harder to defend.
My throat worked. No sound came out.
Across the room, Alina glanced between me and Naomi, clearly deciding I was the nearest available authority on unreasonable people. “Juliette? Naomi needs someone to explain why Graham’s wine club name is a felony.”
Nick stepped back before I had to.
I lifted my chin. “Professional emergency.”
His eyes stayed on me. “Go.”
“You’re very commanding around fermented grapes.”
“Only when necessary.”
I walked back to the group with my spine aligned and Nick’s jacket still over my shoulders.
By late afternoon, the heat had settled thickly over the estate, turning the stone terrace pale and bright. The final stop was behind the production buildings, where the polished paths ended and the conservation work became visible.
Marieke walked us along a narrow track beside the vineyard boundary, explaining the wildlife corridor project and the camera traps placed along the scrub line. Beyond the last row of vines, the land changed texture. Cultivation gave way to thorn, rock, and long grass moving under the wind.
“Animals don’t care about our property maps,” Marieke said. “We learned to build around that.”
Cufflink studied the interrupted fence line. “And crop loss?”
“Lower than expected. Stress points decreased once we stopped forcing movement into fewer channels.”
Naomi shaded her eyes with one hand. “That is annoyingly elegant.”
Nick walked behind the group, close enough to intervene and far enough to let Marieke lead. The additional rangers kept the outer edges. Their presence could have made the outing feel tense, but it didn’t. It made the privilege of the day visible. Wine, lunch, linen, laughter, all of it held up by people who watched the borders so everyone else could pretend there were none.
I glanced back.
Nick was already looking at me.
Then Graham stepped directly into a shallow rut and windmilled with both arms.
Nick caught the back of his shirt before the man could introduce his face to the conservation corridor.
Graham froze, arms out. “I had that.”
Nick released his shirt. “You had momentum.”
