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“When it’s time for the black-frosting roses.”
“And when is that?”
Margo looks up at me, biting her lip.
“Tomorrow.”
“I’m prepared today,” I murmur, taking a step closer to her.
She scoffs. “Guys like you are always prepared.”
I take a step back, placing a hand to my chest.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
She opens her mouth but lightning cracks, too close to us.
Margo jumps, moving into my arms before I can react. I put an arm around her waist, ushering her inside just as the rain starts.
She looks out of the glass door. I keep my arms around her waist. She doesn’t pull away.
“Hail,” she says, her voice awed.
I glance up to see penny-sized hail dinging my very expensive paint job. I wince slightly, but having Margo close like this takes my mind off it.
I inhale and the scent of her, brown sugar and rosewater, invades my nostrils.
I want to tuck my face in the crook of her neck, breathe her in. I haven’t let anyone that close since Belle. Would Margo want me if she knew the real me, without the money and the public smile?
Belle hadn’t.
“Jesus,” Margo curses, then makes the sign of the cross. “It’s getting bad out there.”
Margo’s phone starts to buzz and she pulls it out of her purse.
“Marcus? I can barely hear you.”
She frowns, walking deeper into the kitchen. I miss her warmth as soon as she steps away.
My phone trills, too, and I look down to see Gabe calling me. I answer on the third ring.
“Let me guess. You’re bailing on us.”
“Can’t,” he grumbles. “Fucking hail cracked the skylight in my living room. I’m up a ladder with a tarp and there’s water everywhere. I’ll be hours.”
I grin slowly as I watch Margo pacing around in the kitchen. Marcus is calling off, too. I just know it.
“Sucks to be you. Margo’s on the phone with Marcus. Sounds like he can’t make it either. Oh no. It’ll just be me and little Margo,” I drawl.
“Cole, don’t—”
I hang up before he can protest further, clearing my throat and sobering my face. Margo will be upset to lose volunteers, especially this close to the festival. Tomorrow, all the teenaged volunteers from the group home and the high schools will be all over the vineyard.
This is better timing to fulfill her wish, anyway. And when the hail stops, I’ll go out and get my… tools.
Margo might have cooked up this fantasy, but I’ve perfected it. She had me on my knees last time and I loved every second of it. Today she gets to find out how good it feels to let go.
Margo blows out a breath, hanging up the phone. I walk into the kitchen.
