“I don’t know about this.” Holly is staring at herself in the mirror triple-checking the dress she picked out for the evening. It’s one of my favorites of hers, because it hugs every curve she’s got. Just the sight of it now makes me want to delay this whole thing. Tug her back upstairs, back into bed, where I can steal a few more minutes of her all to myself.

But I resist, because I know Holly isn’t just talking about her dress. I step up behind her and wrap my arms around her body, pulling her against me. As always, she sinks into me easily, surrendering control, and I savor the feel of her soft curves against me. My blood starts to rush south, and I know my cock agrees that I should definitely cave in and drag her back upstairs, too.

“It’s going to be fine,” I murmur. I lean in to kiss the nape of her neck, in that favorite spot I love, the one that always makes her shiver.

She does, and I tighten my arms around her just a little more. Fuck, she smells incredible. How long until I can peel this dress off her?

Or better yet, leave it on, bend her over the desk in my study and pull it up to bare that sexy ass of hers, and the no doubt extremely thin panties she’s wearing, like she always does when she has on a dress that could show lines anywhere…

“It’s just a big step,” she says to our reflection in the mirror. My eyes flash up to meet hers, those forest green eyes I love. The ones I’ve spent the last two years gazing into every morning when I wake up, and every night before I fall asleep.

How did I get this lucky? I ask myself, not for the first time. Holly had always been the one who got away, for me. The one I’d wanted to get to know better, but never could. When I heard she was going to be attending the wine convention in her parents’ place a little over two years ago now, I jumped at the chance to replace my father, all so I could have another shot at seducing her.

But that seduction turned into something more than I ever could have imagined. And now, fast-forward two years, and here we are, somewhere I never would have pictured myself in a million years. Standing in the downstairs foyer of a house we bought with the first year’s stellar profits from S&B Winery—thanks in large part to a huge promotional campaign from Alexander Microff, who promised Holly he owed it to her, after that whole tasting menu debacle.

Holly’s parents weren’t pleased, to say the least, when they found out who she’d be opening this winery with, and why. But their reaction was nothing compared to my father’s, who wrote me out of the will before I so much as said boo. Holly’s parents would have considered letting her keep her place as Spring Valley’s heir, but they wanted to make sure I wouldn’t be able to touch anything; wouldn’t have a hand in any of the company.

Holly told them no thanks, and passed the title to a younger cousin, who, in all fairness, does seem to be picking up the jist of things from her parents relatively fast, thankfully.

But tensions have been high between both of our families ever since. Even with two years to soften their attitudes, give them time to adjust, it’s still been rocky.

Hence, tonight’s plan.

“What if they try to kill each other?” Holly asks, that perfect, sexy little mouth of hers forming a worried pout.

I reach up and cup her chin, tilting her face around until I can kiss that sexy mouth, long enough to erase the pout, at least for now. “Then we’ll stop them,” I say. “My father’s wheelchair-bound now, and yours still has that walker of his. It’s not like they can make a run at each other with the steak knives.”

Her eyes go wide. “Do you think we should switch to butter knives instead?”

I laugh and roll my eyes. “Holly. Quit worrying. Everything is going to be fine. Besides, after the announcement we’re about to make, they can’t possibly say no to us anymore.”

She presses her lips together. Draws in a deep breath, but squares her shoulders and nods, too. That’s my girl. My tough as nails, always ready for a fight girl.

There’s no one else I’d rather have for a partner, either in life or in business. I loop an arm around her waist, and together, we turn toward the dining room, to finish setting things up. I’m halfway through finishing the table setting, and I can hear Holly in the kitchen putting the finishing touches on supper—she made her specialty, a roast so tender it practically melts off the bone and into your mouth. And we’ve paired it with the first batch of wine from our newest blend, of course. The better to show off—or prove, I guess—to both of our parents how much we learned from them.

That’s when I hear the doorbell ring. I square my shoulders.

Right. Here goes nothing.

You love Holly more than anything else in the world, I remind myself as I stride out of the dining room and head for the front door. That’s why you’re doing this. Because we can’t go the rest of our lives having our families constantly at one another’s throats.

And if there’s one thing in the world that I’m certain about, it’s that I want to spend the rest of my life with this woman. I want to spend every day making Holly as happy as she makes me. If her parents can’t see that; and if my parents can’t understand how I feel about an incredible woman like her? Well, then that’s both of their losses.

But Holly and I both figured we at least owe it to them to give them a chance to improve their behavior, first.

I swing open the door to find Holly’s mother and father on the doorstep. Her dad squints past me at the hall, suspicious—we’ve visited them at their vineyard a handful of times over the years, mostly for holidays or birthdays, but this is the first time her parents have come to see our place.

Her mother, at least, has no such reservations. “Darius, darling, it’s so good to see you,” she says, opening her arms wide for a hug. She gives me one of those crushing mother bear hugs, and I pat her back, smiling over her shoulder at Holly’s father.

“Helen. Jim. It’s so good to see you both.”

Jim extends a hand with a gruff grunt, but when I shake his hand easily and step aside to lead them into the house, he catches my eye and juts his chin toward the house overhead, a begrudgingly approving look on his face. “I like what you two have done with the place. Real classic feel.”

Helen rests a hand on his shoulder, and I can tell she must have had several conversations with him on the way over here about behaving himself. I lead them into the dining room and get them settled in, while Holly flits in for bigger hugs and exuberant kisses from them both.

Half the hard part done.

I make small talk with her parents while Holly pours wine. Then the doorbell rings again, and her father mumbles something about latecomers, and I know the real test is about to begin.

I straighten my tie in a hall mirror I pass on the way to the front door. Once again, the second I open it, I receive a crushing Mom Hug, this time from my own mother.

“Darius, honey. Thank you so much for having us.”

Over her shoulder, I make eye contact with my father. He hesitates and squints at me. Up at the house. Back at me. “Are you really going to make me do this, son?” he says, and I fix him with the kind of stern stare I grew up facing down at home. I know how to really lay it on, after all, because I learned from the best.

“Dad, we’ve talked about this,” I tell him. “You’ve been playing childish games long enough. It’s time to be the bigger person. That, or you can turn around and drive home now, and you won’t be a part of my or Holly’s lives going forward. Is that what you want?”

His jaw clenches. Flexes. Relaxes again. “I just don’t see why I should need to get chummy with the people who spent the better part of the last decade bad-mouthing me.”

Dad’s right, to an extent. As much as he’s played dirty against the Springs, Jim didn’t exactly play straight with my dad, either. There were more than a few back and forth, public arguments between them splashed across newspapers that neither side is exactly squeaky-clean.

Still. The lion’s share of the blame falls on my father, and we both know it. “They never did anything to you that you didn’t do to them and then some,” I reply. “And this dinner isn’t about business, Dad. It’s about family. It’s about something Holly and I need to tell both of you. So come in if you want, or stay out in the cold. But don’t disrespect Holly in front of me, and treat her family civilly, or I’ll remove you from my house.”

My dad bows his head, cowed, and with that, I lead him and Mom into the dining room.

To judge by the way Holly jumps back from where she’d been crouched between her parents, I can tell she was just having a very similar talking-to with them. She flashes me a smile, though, so I guess it must have gone well.

“Mom, Dad,” I say. “This is Helen and Jim.” They’ve met before, of course, though never in such private or close circumstances, I’d bet.

There’s a long pause for a moment, where the whole room seems to be holding its breath. Then Helen stands up and offers my mother a hand. “Jeannie, it’s so nice to see you again.”

My mom smiles, grateful for the icebreaker, and shakes Helen’s hand. “And you.”

Helen shakes my father’s hand next, while Mom shakes Jim’s. As for Jim, he and my father remain in a stare-off, eyes locked, jaws set. Jim slowly rises to his feet, and I brace myself. If we’re in for an explosion tonight, this will be it.

But Jim only extends his palm toward my father. “Martin. How about we call all this water under the bridge, huh? For the kids’ sake.”

Dad hesitates. I catch Holly’s eye, and notice her worried expression. I flash her a reassuring smile, even if it doesn’t quite meet my eyes. Because I’m not sure what’s about to happen, either.

And then, to my shock and relief, Dad raises his hand to clasp Jim’s. “I’d like that, Jim,” he says, and just like that, the tension in the room shatters.

From there, everyone takes their seats, and the moms make small-talk about their dresses, while Jim starts to drill me with processing questions about the bottle of wine Holly’s serving everyone right now. It makes me hesitate, at first, any mention of work, but I answer as best I can, until before long, Dad seems drawn into the conversation too.

Soon, all three of us are discussing our wineries, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. As if we don’t have any rivalries between us, but we’re all just colleagues, picking one another’s brains for new ideas.

I should have realized. I’d been worried any talk of our companies would have my father and Holly’s at each other’s throats. But in fact, it’s the biggest thing they have in common. The biggest thing we all have in common.

Finally, the conversation gets so in-depth that I realize I haven’t said a word in a few minutes. It’s just Jim and Martin chatting, as if they’re old friends who have always talked this way.

That’s when it’s time, I decide. I stand and cross the room to stand next to Holly, and wrap one arm around her waist. She beams up at me, and that smile of hers alone is more than enough to tell me that all this was worth it. Any amount of work, if you ask me, is worth it just to make Holly smile.

I clear my throat, and four pairs of eyes turn our way. “Glad to see you four all getting along so well,” I say, and a nervous laugh circles the room at that hint of our past. I speak up over it. “But you’re probably all wondering why Holly and I wanted to bring you here tonight. Because we didn’t just decide to do this out of the blue.”

“We wouldn’t torture you for no reason, is what Darius is trying to say,” Holly adds, and this time, the laughter that circulates the dining room is a little more natural.

We’re both grinning, now, and we flash one another a glance before I continue. “We wanted you both here to tell you something very important.” I slide my hand lower. Dip it around Holly’s waist, until I’m touching her belly.

Her mother’s eyes widen first, her mouth falling open.

Holly catches her eye and nods. “That’s right. We’re going to have a baby.”

The shouts of happiness that break out then aren’t feigned. Mom has tears in her eyes as she leaps out of her chair to come and hug us both. So does Holly’s mother. Jim shakes my hand so hard I’m worried he might dislocate my shoulder. My dad claps me on the back, then hugs Holly, then slaps me again, laughing.

Congratulations circle the room. And the whole time, I can’t quite tear my gaze from Holly. Holly, beaming at me from across the room even as her mother smothers her in another hug, crying against her shoulder.

Holly, the woman of my dreams. Holly, my partner in life, in business, in everything. Holly, the future mother of my child.

It’s a scene I never thought I’d see. Banthams and Springs not just in one room, but embracing, getting along. All our past grievances abandoned, and everyone excited for the generation to come. And I know there’s nobody else in the world I’d rather share all this with, than my Holly.

Later that night, several glasses more of wine in, we manage to sneak a quiet moment to ourselves in the kitchen. I catch her waist, tug her to me. “How are you feeling, Mom-to-be?” I whisper.

She grins up at me. “Like I could burst from happiness. How about you?”

“Pretty similar,” I admit. “There’s just one more thing I’d want to make today truly perfect.”

“Hmm…” She tilts her face toward mine, seeking my lips. But I hold her an inch away, teasing. “And what’s that?” she asks, her expression turning sly.

I flash a long, lingering look up and down her body. “That would be you, out of this dress and spread across my bed, instead,” I whisper, my voice low and husky with desire.

She laughs, her face flushing. “You are impossible,” she says, balling a fist against my chest.

“Only because you drive me wild,” I point out. Then I catch her lips in mine, claim her mouth in a hard, slow kiss that leaves her sighing against me, her body relaxing into mine as she lets me take control. When we part again, I’m the one grinning. “You’re mine, Holly Spring,” I tell her, kissing her again, and again.

She grins right back at me. “And you’re mine, Darius Bantham. Now and forever.”