WHITNEY FOUGHT TO keep her body from shaking. She’d laid everything on the line. With an audience. And now she waited, one hand holding Luke’s hand to her face, the other feeling the erratic pounding of his heart. There were distant sounds of festival revelry and rides and music, but the immediate vicinity of the Falls Legend Winery booth was silent. Everyone was waiting.
Sure, she’d played it cool and confident to Luke, but it was all an act. What if he didn’t love her? What if he wouldn’t let himself love her? The man had been hurt. She’d been one of the many who’d hurt him. And now she’d pushed him into a corner and challenged him to admit he loved her in front of half the town. What if he wouldn’t trust her again? What if...
His fingers moved against her cheek, so slightly she wasn’t sure she’d felt it. There. He did it again. She released his hand and closed her eyes, praying. He pushed her hair behind her ear, then slid around to hold the back of her head. His mouth moved against hers, almost reluctantly. He was fighting it. He was fighting loving her. He spoke against her lips.
“Open your eyes.”
She did. He was right there, eyes dark with emotion.
“I want you looking at me when I say this. I want to be sure you understand.”
Oh, god. He was going to turn her away. She was going to lose him. Her heart stopped.
“I love you, Whitney. God help me, I do. I love you.”
He kissed her hard and deep, and she thought she’d faint with relief. She grabbed his shoulders and held herself up, kissing him back as much as she could between crying and laughing and listening to the cheers of the crowd that had gathered. He pulled her into his arms and buried his face in her shoulder, crushing her in his embrace. She felt the wetness of his tears on her skin and started crying all over again, overcome with emotion.
“Okay, folks, the floor show is over!” Helen’s voice rang out from inside the booth. “And if you’d like to know the magic recipe for all of this lovey-dovey stuff, Luke’s favorite wine is the pinot noir he harvested with my late husband, and Whitney’s is our unoaked chardonnay from the steel tanks Tony invested in. Both are finalists in the wine competition today!”
Luke and Whitney lifted their heads and watched in amusement. Helen continued her spiel, laughing with renewed life as she and Steve started handing out samples of the two wines as fast as they could pour them.
“It’s as if my Tony is still looking over us today. As Tony used to say, ‘Vivi con passione. Ridi di cuore. Ama profondamente.’ That means live with passion, laugh out loud and love deeply.” Helen turned to Luke and Whitney and raised a glass in a toast. “To love!”
The crowd cheered again, repeating the last two words loudly. Helen shooed Luke and Whitney out of the booth and told them to “go be in love somewhere out of her way.” Vickie and Cecile stepped into the booth to help Helen, as they’d planned when they’d cooked up this idea in the carriage house the other day.
As they worked their way out of the crowd, people were clapping Luke on the back and congratulating him. He nodded absently, a baffled smile on his face, hardly saying a word. He’d never let himself trust people enough to learn that not everyone was judging him. It would be a while before he’d let himself believe it, but she’d help him get there.
They moved away from the festival madness and walked up Main Street, their arms around each other’s waists, moving in unison with each other. Having a little more space and a little more quiet helped them both breathe easier. Her phone chirped with an incoming text. She fished it out of her pocket without letting go of Luke.
“It’s from Evie.” She read the message and gave a little whoop of excitement. “Luke, we won!”
“Yeah, I know. You won me and I won you.”
She smacked him on the shoulder. “No... I mean yes...but that’s... Oh, never mind. I’m talking about the winery! The Legacy red won a silver in the reds, and the chardonnay won the gold medal for whites!” Another text came in. “And best overall for the festival! Oh, Luke! You did it!”
He swung her around, lifting her feet right off the sidewalk. “We did it, babe.” He set her down and kissed her. “Helen’s right. We make one hell of a team. Let’s find her and celebrate.”
They turned down the hill toward the festival, and he glanced at her with a grin as they walked. His delicious, relaxed, light-filled grin. She blinked back fresh tears.
“What’s that look?” he asked.
“This is what love looks like, my friend.” She nudged her hip against his. “I hate to break it to you, but you’re wearing the same goofy expression.”
He barked out a laugh. “Goofy, huh?” Then his smile faded. “You decided to stay without knowing how I felt?”
“Well, I had a pretty good idea, but yeah. I printed the business cards on Helen’s printer yesterday. I’m done running, Luke. I decided to stay and fight, because we’re worth it.”
They walked on as he digested that.
“I feel like a schmuck for not fighting for us. Thank god you never gave up.”
She pulled him to a stop. “No. We’re not doing that. We’re not putting blame on ourselves or each other or our names or our families or anything else.”
He stared at her, his eyes dark with emotion. “You know, I can’t imagine I could have really let you go in the end, Whit. You’re...you’re everything. You’re my world.”
“I don’t think either one of us could have gone through with it, but we came awful close, didn’t we?” The thought sent a tremor of panic through her, and he saw it, pulling her close.
“I swear, Whitney, I will never let that happen again. I can’t promise to be perfect, but I promise I’ll never let you go. I will always fight for you. For us.”
Her heart swelled with love. “We’ve both made mistakes. But nothing that happened in the past matters anymore. This is us, and we start today. Right now.”
He gave her a slanted smile, then a mock salute.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Now you’re getting the idea!” She turned, but he grabbed her by the waist and pulled her back.
“Nice try, Miss Bossy Pants.” He kissed her until her head spun. “There’s only one way you’re getting away with making the rules here.”
“Yeah? And what’s that?”
“You’re gonna have to tell me you love me a lot.” His brows gathered. “I mean, not that you love me a lot, but you have to say it a lot.”
Whitney put her hands on either side of his face. “Here’s an idea. What if I do both? Because I do love you a lot and I’m happy to say it a lot. I love you.”
He stared at her in wonder. “I love you, too, Whitney. And I’ll tell you that every damn day until the end of time.” His arms wrapped around her. “That’s another promise. And you know what it means when I make a promise.”
She smiled against his lips.
“You stick.”
“Forever.”