Chapter 9: If Only It Were Real

The moment my eyes fluttered open, the sun was already streaming into the room. I felt surprisingly refreshed, considering the whirlwind of events from the previous day. Turning my head, I found Brennan still deep in sleep.

He looked so serene, a sight I wasn’t accustomed to. Realizing I was gawking, I quickly averted my gaze, swung my legs over the edge of the bed, and stood up.

I tiptoed to my suitcase, laying it flat before slowly unzipping it. I pulled out a pair of jeans, a floral cotton tank top, my underwear, and my toiletry bag, then slipped into the bathroom.

After changing out of my pajamas and into my fresh clothes, I pulled my hair into a ponytail and applied a touch of mascara and plum lipstick.

When I emerged from the bathroom, Brennan was awake and dressed. He glanced my way and offered a smile.

“Good morning, G,” he greeted. “Feeling hungry?”

“Actually, I am,” I responded, surprised at my own answer. I wasn’t typically a breakfast person, but today I felt like I could devour a full English breakfast.

Brennan extended his hand towards me, and I walked over to him, slipping my hand into his as if it was the most natural thing in the world. But it didn’t feel natural—it felt electric, his touch sending tiny jolts up my arm and straight to my stomach.

We strolled through the ridiculously large house for what felt like an eternity before finally reaching the dining room, already bustling with people.

“Good morning!” Kate greeted, pulling me into a warm hug. “Did you sleep well?”

“I did,” I assured her.

Kate moved away, and Jaq took her place, enveloping me in another hug. This time, my hand slipped from Brennan’s.

Jaq held me for a moment before placing her hand on the back of my head and whispering, “Grief is hard. Losing someone we love feels impossible, but Grace, I see an incredible strength in you.”

She released me and continued her rounds, checking on everyone else in the dining room. I watched her, admiring her dedication to her family. Brennan’s absence must have been hard for her.

It wasn’t until Brennan and I sat down that I noticed his father was missing.

We ate together, like a family. I felt out of place, not because I didn’t belong, but because of the lie we were living. It felt right being here, but the lie tainted everything, like a slow-acting poison.

“Brennan, you should show Grace around the grounds before we head into town after lunch to pick up the dresses and find one for Grace,” Jaq suggested, taking a sip of her orange juice.

I felt Brennan’s gaze on me, so I turned to look at him. He smiled and raised his eyebrows in question. “What do you think?”

“Sounds perfect,” I replied honestly. A private tour would give us a chance to be ourselves, to drop the act for a while. We finished our breakfast, then Brennan and I left the house.

To my surprise, we didn’t head straight for the grounds. Instead, we walked up the driveway and into the garage.

Inside were five black quad bikes, all lined up neatly. Brennan walked to the back of the garage and grabbed a set of keys off the wall.

“We’re not walking?” I asked, a hint of surprise in my voice.

“The grounds are too big to cover on foot in one day. My mom wants you back by lunch for dress shopping.” He chuckled. “She really likes you.”

I nodded, guilt creeping in.

“I feel bad about that. It would be easier if she didn’t like me,” I admitted.

Brennan opened the garage doors wider and pressed a button on the key fob. One of the quads beeped in response, and he walked over to it, climbing on.

“I’m glad she likes you, Grace. But once this is all over, I’m sure I’ll never hear the end of it.”

I frowned and walked over to the quad bike, climbing on behind Brennan. I placed my hand on his shoulder to steady myself, straddling the large seat and gripping the safety rails.

“The end of what?” I asked.

“Letting you get away,” he replied without missing a beat. He started the quad, and we began to move. As soon as we were outside, Brennan picked up speed.

Instinctively, my hands moved from the safety rails to wrap around Brennan’s waist. I felt more secure, more grounded, holding onto him than I did holding onto the rails.

Brennan didn’t seem to mind as we drove deeper into the property, passing row after row of grapevines. He wasn’t kidding about the size of the estate; there were vines as far as the eye could see.

Eventually, a large building came into view, nearly as big as the house but not quite. There were two large barns, their doors wide open with people already bustling about.

Brennan parked the quad next to a row of cars and turned off the engine. I unwrapped my arms from around him and climbed off the bike, feeling a bit shaky.

“You okay?” Brennan asked, concern in his voice. He placed his hand on the small of my back, which only intensified the shaky feeling. I forced a smile and nodded.

“I’m fine,” I assured him.

We crossed the parking lot and entered the office.

“Welcome to Wolf Wines. This is the office. Normally, Vic would be behind the desk. She’s been our receptionist for twenty-five years.

“But with the wedding coming up, everyone is out in the barn packing wine to take to the reception at the grandstand.”

The reception area was stunning—sophisticated and elegant. The exterior of the building was more rustic, but the inside reminded me of the office back in New York.

We continued our tour, walking through the building. The corridors had windows that overlooked the inner workings of the winery and the wine-making process.

At the end of a long corridor, Brennan pointed to a closed door.

“That’s my father’s office,” he said, his voice tight.

“Is he working?”

“He’s always working,” Brennan replied. “Come on, let’s go to the main room. We can taste some of Wolf’s finest.”

We exited Brennan’s father’s office, descending the stairs until we reached the familiar area I’d glimpsed earlier. The place was hushed, the wedding having cleared out everyone except Brennan’s dad, who was still at work.

Brennan took my hand, guiding me through the building. He paused at a barrel marked ‘Silver Stripe,’ grabbed two plastic tasting glasses from a nearby tray, and filled them directly from the barrel.

He offered me one and watched as I took a sip. The wine was a dry red, bursting with flavor. I wasn’t a wine connoisseur, but the taste sparked a flurry of thoughts.

Black cherry, vanilla, spice. The flavors blended into something so divine, I doubted I could ever enjoy another wine.

“Silver Stripe is Wolf Wines’ top-tier wine. It’s four thousand dollars a bottle,” Brennan announced, grinning broadly. He took a sip from his glass, watching me closely as I nearly choked on my mouthful.

“Four thousand?” I managed to croak out. The wine had left my mouth dry, making the word sound strangled.

I stared at the half-full glass in my hand, wondering how much it was worth. I felt guilty, almost tempted to pour the remaining wine back into the barrel. It seemed wasted on someone like me.

“My parents won’t notice a couple of glasses missing,” Brennan assured me, as if he’d read my thoughts.

We continued our tour of the barn, Brennan explaining the machinery and its functions. He’d obviously spent a lot of time here, but knowing him, I could tell it wasn’t his passion.

Being skilled at something didn’t mean you loved it.

Brennan glanced at his watch and sighed. “We should head back soon.” He took my empty plastic cup and tossed it in the trash.

“Brennan. Why wasn’t your dad at breakfast?” I asked as we crossed the parking lot back to the quad bike. Brennan leaned against it and shrugged.

“I thought he’d come to terms with my decision to leave, but when I went to get that glass of water last night, he told me I needed to get serious. I needed to come home and fulfill my expected duties.”

I frowned. Brennan was an adult with a successful business. He ~was~ serious. He was wealthy and influential, owning a company that supplied major corporations with their tech needs.

“But you are successful and serious,” I countered.

Brennan nodded. “He doesn’t understand what I do. He’s stuck in the past. Blake had to practically force him to create a website for Wolf Wines a few years ago.

“He doesn’t realize Wolf Industries is ~ahead~ of Wolf Wines in terms of revenue and all other business metrics. No one here does,” he scoffed.

“To him, it doesn’t even matter. I’m not following the family tradition. I’m a traitor.”

I moved closer, placing my hand on Brennan’s arm. I tilted my head, fighting the urge to embrace him.

“You’re an incredible person, Brennan. You’ve accomplished so much in such a short time. If he can’t see that, he’s the one missing out.”

Brennan smiled, then climbed onto the quad. I hopped on behind him and we rode back to the house. After parking the quad and shutting the garage door, we headed back inside.

Immediately, I heard soft crying. Brennan took off suddenly, and I trailed behind him. We entered a living room where Jaq and Jade were comforting a distraught Kate.

“I can’t believe she’s sick!” Kate sobbed. “The entire wedding party will be unbalanced now.”

Brennan sat down, far enough from the group to avoid intruding, but close enough to catch Kate’s attention.

“Sis, whatever it is, we can figure it out.”

Kate sniffled and shook her head. “My friend Emily, the one you’re escorting up the aisle, has the flu. I’m short a bridesmaid, Brennan. I can’t just conjure one up.”

Suddenly, Kate stopped crying. She leaned forward in her chair, her eyes wide and hopeful as she looked at me.

“You and Emily are about the same size. Please be my bridesmaid.”