Forever with Me (With Me in Seattle, #8)(16)

“That’s a great idea,” I reply. “It looks different since we were here briefly last year, when Meg and I came out to look around.”

He nods. “I’ve been renovating. I added onto the back of the villa, expanding my private quarters. This is my wing,” he points to the section of the house we’re walking past now. “And that side is going to be for guests. I might start using it as a bed and breakfast.”

“You could even host concerts and events here. There’s plenty of space.”

His eyes fall to mine.

“Maybe, eventually. The guest wing is finished, and I’ll take you in there later to show you where the groom and bride suites are.”

“Great. What’s over there?” I point over behind the new building housing the store.

“The vines run over on that side of the property. It’s hilly, and perfect growing conditions. The reception tent is going over here.” He leads me to the left, where the sidewalk ends, and down a long dirt path to a grassy field, at least two square acres big.

“This is perfect.” The land is level, so people won’t be trying to dance on uneven ground, falling after having too many drinks. “I’ll have them set up the stage on this end.” I walk all the way to the left, cursing when one of my heels sinks into the grass and kick my shoes off so I don’t ruin them.

“I knew you’d shed the shoes.”

“My feet don’t hurt, they’re just too expensive to ruin in the grass,” I reply absentmindedly, and keep my eyes on the meadow, mentally measuring the space. “Yes, the stage will fit perfectly here. And with the sound equipment facing the villa, everyone will be able to hear the music, even if they choose to wander through the gardens and such.” I bite my lip and turn to gaze at the rest of the space. “This is a perfect place to set up a dance floor. There is plenty of room for tables around the perimeter.”

“Did you say there will be a tent?” Dom asks from behind me, startling me.

“Yes. It protects the guests from the sun and the rain, and around here, you never know what you’ll get.”

“It’s going to be a big tent.”

“That’s why they’re coming tomorrow to begin setting up,” I reply and fetch my shoes. “This is plenty of space for both a formal sit-down dinner and dancing. I love it. Okay, let’s move on to the ceremony site.”

I begin to walk away, and then realize he’s not beside me. I turn to find him standing, hands in pockets, watching me.

“What?”

“You’re good at this.”

“Of course I am.”

His lips twitch as he approaches me. “It looks good on you.”

“I’m working.”

“Meaning?”

“No flirting.”

“Is that what I was doing?”


“Weren’t you?”

He chuckles and reaches over to drag his fingertip down my neck, from just below my ear to my collarbone.

“Yes, but not on purpose.”

“Well, stop it.” I turn and begin walking again, ignoring the way my skin sizzles where his fingertip was. “Ceremony site?”

“Over here,” he replies, and leads me back onto a sidewalk path for about a hundred yards, passing a large, dark brown barn. “The barrels are in there, along with the bottling equipment.”

“Oh, that’s cool. I’d love to check that out.”

“I’ll show you,” he says, and leads me into a field just past the barn, where vines of grapes are standing in perfect rows.

“Oh, this is beautiful.”

He grins and nods. “Meg wanted to get married in the vineyard. So, she will. As you can see, there is a wide space in the middle of the vines where we set up harvesting supplies. I think it’ll be a good place to set up for the ceremony.”

My eyes are raking over the gorgeous green-leafed vines, heavy with purple grapes, and my heart yearns. I wish I could hold every wedding right here.

It’s amazing.

In the background, there’s a steep hill with more vines climbing up it and the Cascade Mountains are the backdrop, providing a glorious painting of color.

“This is beautiful,” I whisper. “Where does the sun set?” I shade my eyes and look around for the sun.

“Behind us. So, the guests won’t be looking into the sun.”

“Perfect.” I grin and tap notes into the iPad, doing the happy dance inside. “With the colors of the vines and the mountains, we don’t need many flowers out here. I’m going to have my construction crew build a simple arbor at that far end and I’ll have the florist weave some flowers into that.”

We go over the chair placement and then turn to walk back toward the villa.

“When will you pick the grapes?” I ask.

“The harvest usually begins in late August and goes through September,” he replies. “It’s a busy time for me.”

“Why?”

“I’m harvesting grapes?”

“Alone?” I ask incredulously.

“No,” he laughs. “I hire about fifty people to come help. But I love it, so I work right alongside them.”

“What do you love about it?” I ask.