Nick had pretended not to notice Sara’s hand on his arm, determined to keep his attention on his discussion with Jake and Megan. But the weight of it, the possessiveness it invoked, was getting on his nerves.

She waited until Jake and Megan were distracted by a question Trish asked them to lean in. “I couldn’t help but notice that your feelings toward the maid of honor seem to have thawed if this morning’s dance lessons were any indication.”

It was something he’d noticed himself when, instead of looking for ways to throw Anna off balance, he had worked with the woman to improve her skills on the floor. And by the end of the lesson, he had been surprised with how much he’d enjoyed it, something that was easier to do when his partner wasn’t wishing a thousand deaths upon him, as she had been yesterday.

“We’re simply making the best of the situation. How about you? It seems that you and Chris”—he nodded toward the guy who’d been cozying up to Anna a moment ago and was now alone and edging closer to Dax and Janie—“were looking pretty chummy, too.”

Where had Anna gone?

“And how did that make you feel, Nick? A little jealous?”

Hardly. In fact, it had been a relief to think that maybe he could pawn off the woman to someone else for his own sanity. “Not at all. I’ll be happy for you if you find that special someone who can make all your dreams come true. Whatever they might be.”

“Chris and me? Are you kidding? My taste is a little more…refined.”

“No one said you had to marry the guy, Sara. And you might find that hanging out with him, with no agenda other than having fun, could be a welcome change of pace.”

“I was hoping you’d be that person.”

Patience. He needed patience. Why was he still going through the motions with her on this issue? “You know that’s not going to happen, Sara. Everyone knows.”

“Your mother doesn’t know. She called me this morning to find out if Daddy was still heading his committee on water rights.”

Good God. Why was she asking Sara about that? She hadn’t shared the news about his upcoming announcement, had she? Damn. He’d avoided his mother’s calls the past two days, something that, in hindsight, had been a mistake. “Did she tell you why she wanted to know?”

“No. I think she just wants you and me to look past our differences and try and make this work.”

“She’s going to have to get used to disappointment then.”

He looked over in time to see Dax answer his phone, his smiling face dissolving into a look of tight concern. As if knowing Nick was watching him, Dax raised his gaze to his brother and a look of understanding passed between them. “Actually, Sara, it looks like Dax might need me. If you’ll excuse me.”

“Of course. Help Dax. Let me know if you need anything.”

Nick nodded and was happy to finally shake off the woman’s hand as he followed his brother. Ahead of them, just coming back inside the room, was Anna, her cell phone in hand.

“Good. I was actually hoping to speak with both of you,” Dax said to Anna, who looked as confused as he did as they stared at Dax, waiting for him to explain. “I need to ask a massive favor. Our wedding planner just called. Apparently a pipe burst at the restaurant where we are having our rehearsal dinner tomorrow night and it’s flooded. Leaving us without a place to have our rehearsal dinner. Lynette is pulling together a short list of possible alternatives, but what with all the other wedding duties and fires she’s already handling, she can’t investigate them herself. So… I was hoping I could rely on you two to help me out.”

“Of course. What do you need?” Nick asked without hesitation.

“Would you two be willing to check out these places for me? It needs to be someplace amazing—or as amazing as possible under these circumstances—since both of our families and friends are going to be there. If it’s horrible, it’s going to set the wrong tone for the whole wedding and Janie will be devastated.”

“No problem,” Nick asserted again. “But I am more than capable of doing this by myself, Dax. There’s no need to pull Anna from the festivities.”

“Maybe, but sometimes I think you look at things too practically and what I need now is something…magical. Something that a female perspective can bring out, and since Anna is Janie’s sister and graciously accepted the role of maid of honor, I was hoping she’d be willing to go a little bit further in helping out,” Dax said, looking directly at Anna.

“I would be happy to help,” Anna said. “This needs to be the opening act for the big day and nothing second-best will do.”

For her part, Anna’s exuberance seemed sincere, probably because there were two more wineries, a picnic lunch, and game of bocci on the agenda that she wanted to skip. Nick would know since he was of the same mind.

Dax smiled in relief. “I can’t tell you both how much this means to me. I know I can trust you two.”

Nick already had an app open on his phone, requesting an Uber driver that would get them back to the Van Hollins estate and his car. “You enjoy the afternoon. If Janie wonders where we are, you can say we’re cooking up a surprise.”

“I will. Thanks again,” Dax said and hurried back to the group.

Nick looked at Anna, uncertain of what to say.

Like it or not, he and Anna were going to be stuck together in closer quarters than they’d originally thought.

And hell if that didn’t send a ripple of excitement through him.

* * *

Anna looked out the car window, the beauty of the patchwork of row upon row of grapevines laid out against the rolling hills not lost on her. Nor was the enigmatic presence of the man next to her.

They hadn’t spoken much on the ride back to the Van Hollinses’ simply because their talkative Uber driver made conversation unnecessary. But now, five minutes out and alone in Nick’s black Lexus sedan, the silence was getting oppressive.

The music playing was something of a surprise. She would have pegged him for Mozart or something more mainstream, like Ed Sheeran. Instead, she heard the sexy bluesy vocals of Dylan Charles, a guy who’d gotten his start in San Francisco almost ten years before.

As if he’d read her thoughts, Nick asked, “The music okay?”

“I love Dylan Charles, and this is, in my opinion, his best album.” The last album he’d dropped had critics and fans alike balking at the too mainstream, almost pop-like feel. Hopefully, he could rebound and get back to what made him so good.

She studied her phone, where the addresses of the three restaurants that Lynette had sent them were displayed. Two of them were within walking distance from each other, and where they were heading first, saving the last only if necessary since it was farther out of town.

“I didn’t get a chance to say this before, but thanks for agreeing to do this,” Nick said, glancing over at her. “I’m sure that Dax feels more at ease knowing we’re both on it.”

“No problem. Besides, there’s only so much ‘Kumbaya’ togetherness I can take. I was afraid that Janie was going to lead everyone in a sing-along on the bus ride to the next stop.”

He smiled, the skin around the corners of his eyes crinkling slightly. “Yeah. I wouldn’t have put it past her.”

“It probably puts a cramp in your plans, though. It seemed like you had some work you were trying to do on the bus earlier,” she said, referencing the fact he’d sat alone at the back of the shuttle bus the entire morning, typing like a maniac, only looking up on occasion to scowl at everyone when they got too loud.

“Just email that needed to be sorted. Everything else can wait until later. I’ll confess, I’m relieved to have this reprieve from the daylong groupfest.”

She chuckled. “I’ll just bet. I noticed Sara didn’t look very happy to see our departure.”

“No? Well, I’m sure she’ll find something to distract her. Chris didn’t seem that happy to see you go either. What’s going on between you two?”

“I like how you did that. Deflected my question about you and Sara to me and Chris.”

“It’s what I do,” he said and grinned unabashedly. “I should warn you, though. About Chris. He’s something of a player, so you might want to watch yourself there. Sure, he’s friendly and funny and easily the life of any party, but he’s not into any kind of commitment. He’s too ambitious for that.”

She laughed. “You just described almost every guy I’ve dated, which is why they’re perfect for me. I’m not looking for a lifelong commitment either. No happily-ever-after, until-death-do-us-part forever and ever. Blah, blah, blah. Living in the moment is more my style.”

“That’s kind of cynical. Even for you.”

“Just practical. And what about you? I don’t see any wifey by your side. Isn’t that required for a guy with high political aspirations? Your own Jackie O., someone beautiful, rich, and with all the right connections? Someone like, say…Sara?”

“Not even close,” he said, an edge to his tone.

She studied him. “She seems to have everything you would want.”

“My mother seems to think so, too. I, however, don’t care if she’s the ‘right’ woman on paper. That kind of thing doesn’t matter to me.”

“What kind of things do matter to you?”

He glanced over again. “Off the record?”

She sighed. “If you insist, but believe me, this is the kind of stuff people want to know.”

“Then they’ll have to get used to bitter disappointment.” He stopped, as if thinking about her question. “I don’t really have a type or a list of things I want. I guess I’d like someone who’s attractive, of course. Someone who I can hold an intelligent conversation with, who has the same interests as I do, and who, most importantly, is someone I can trust.”

It was hard to miss the implication. “You didn’t trust Sara?”

“No,” he said curtly.

“Oh, come on. You’ve got to do better than that. I mean, you already know about my tragic family background. It’s only fair you tell me something semi-interesting. How about I guess, and you tell me if I’m warm.” When he didn’t answer, she pushed on. “Was she unfaithful to you?”

“That wasn’t an issue.”

He said it with such confidence she almost rolled her eyes again. Typical male ego.

“All right. Then help me out.”

“Well, during the months we were together, it was hard not to notice a sudden upswing in the amount of media coverage of us and our relationship. Coverage that included details about our relationship that they had no business knowing.”

Anna recalled her editor’s top ten list of celebrities and public figures hanging on her wall. Nick and the St. Claires had never failed to appear. “You’ve always been an easy target for those kinds of stories, though. Why was this any different?”

They’d reached a light and Nick took a moment to stretch his arms out. “It got to the point where we’d leave for dinner or a movie and the press would already be there waiting, as if someone had tipped them off. Then there was the deluge of personal stories, not just about me but my mom and brother, even issues with my co-op, that no one should have known about.” The light turned green and he pulled out again. “Once we ended things, the absence of those same reporters and stories made the truth more obvious.”

Could he have been right? Had Sara been leaking that stuff to draw more attention to them? If so, that kind of betrayal from someone you were getting close to, maybe even falling in love with, would have been tough.

“Don’t look at me so woefully,” Nick said. “It’s not like I’m not used to seeing me or my family plastered across the tabloids. You get used to it. It’s getting used to the betrayal from people you thought you could trust, the people you thought were your friends or maybe something more, that takes getting used to.”

He spoke like this had happened more than one time in his life.

“So if you thought that Sara had betrayed you, why did you risk getting tangled up with her again last fall?” It had been a risk bringing this up, but she had to admit to being more than idly curious about this.

“How the hell are you hearing all of this?” With one hand still on the wheel, he ran his other hand through his hair. “Not that it’s your business—wow, that’s something I find myself saying a lot around you—but no, I didn’t sleep with Sara after the engagement party, contrary to any reports you may have heard.”

For some reason, that pleased Anna more than it should. “That list of things you’re looking for in a partner… I noticed a few things were absent.”

“No. I think it covered everything that I’m looking for.”

“You kind of missed two important things.” He glanced over to her, his expression curious. “You know? Love? You didn’t mention someone you loved. I imagine that would be high up on most people’s list.”

“Well, it just goes without saying that my wife and I will love each other. I’m not talking about the fireworks-in-the-sky, blow-your-socks-off, I-can’t-live-without-you kinds of love. Those things dim with time and leave you with nothing. I’m talking about the slow burn, the love that builds over time, built on mutual respect and—”

Anna feigned a loud yawn. “You’re kidding me, right? I mean, that’s the whole reason to be with another person. For that whole bam. Fireworks moment. When you can’t catch your breath and you almost feel like you’re free-falling, but in a good way.”

“To each his own, I guess,” he said and shrugged. “My parents were married for more than thirty years and they lasted that long because they weren’t disillusioned about what marriage meant. They knew it wasn’t flowers and poetry every day but a matter of being there even when you might not like each other very much.”

It sounded pretty sad to her. Sure, she didn’t have marriage on her radar, but that didn’t mean that she didn’t enjoy those moments when she first met a guy she liked and got caught up in the rush of feelings for each other. Of course, for her, when things got too intense, too dramatic, it was time to bail, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t looking for the next rush with the next guy. The thrill of doing it all again. “And that’s what you want then for yourself? Your parents’ marriage?”

His jaw tightened and he struggled for a minute. “I didn’t say that. But they did give me some perspective of what marriage could be like so I didn’t have unrealistic expectations.”

That was cryptic and there was definitely more she wanted to ask him, but from the tight grip he had on the steering column, she decided not to push him. At least not right now.

They were quiet again and Anna looked outside at the view.

“What was the other thing?” Nick asked suddenly. She looked at him, confused for a moment. “You said that I missed two things on my list of things I’d like in a partner, in a wife. What was the second?”

She smiled, not needing to remember what it was. It was probably number one on her list. “Fun. You didn’t mention someone you can have fun with. Someone who can make you laugh, who can bring you joy, who can make you wonder what new and exciting things might be in store to explore with them that day and every day you’re with them.”

Nick nodded but didn’t ask anything more. “We’re here,” he said a minute later, sounding relieved as he pulled into a parking spot.

She met him on the sidewalk, enjoying the warm sun on her face and the light, fragrant breeze that carried the smell of freshly baked dough from the doughnut shop they’d parked in front of. They walked along the line of quaint shops selling a variety of overpriced art, knickknacks, and clothing, dodging other tourists who were snapping photos and taking selfies as they took in the small, idyllic Napa town.

Nick stopped and looked up. “This is it.”

“It’s…” Anna began, not able to find words to finish the sentence as she walked in, Nick behind her.

The place was definitely quaint. Quaint and rustic. Heavy on the rustic. Perfect if you were hosting a lumberjack breakfast, but not so much if you wanted an elegant dinner for thirty close friends and family.

She raised her brows as Nick leaned down to whisper, “I don’t know if this is exactly the magic Dax was looking for.”

After they explained why they were there, the hostess, who had already made the arrangements with Lynette to show them around, led the way to their private dining room.

Nick placed his hand at the small of her back, guiding her gently as they followed behind, the confident splay of his fingertips across her back making her all too aware of their strength and warmth.

An innocent gesture. Probably something he hadn’t even given a second thought to. But the feelings the touch evoked were anything but innocent.

Magical might have been another word.