Be Mine Forever (A St. Helena Vineyard Novel) Read Online Free

She wanted to slap her palm on her forehead because, damn it, that didn’t sound any better.
    “Hang on, let’s just make sure that everything is all right.” Trey stepped closer, so much concern on his face she felt hers flush with embarrassment. She stuffed her cap low on her head and took two huge steps—backward. In every way possible.
    “I’ll call my insurance adjuster when I get home and have him contact you in the morning. In case you find a scratch or paint on your bumper or something. Which you won’t, but, okay, yeah, nice meeting you. Both. Nice meeting you both. Bye.”
    Sara turned and rushed out the door, shuffling her sequin-clad butt toward her car. And if that wasn’t a big enough clue to take dating off of her newly formed bucket list, then the really big, hard balls of ice falling from the sky and pelting her head sealed the deal.
    Sara Reed. Dance instructor. Widow. Single mom.
    Period.

CHAPTER 2
    C UPID W ANTS Y OU.
    Trey stopped in his tracks when he saw the giant banner with glittery silver and pink letters, which hung between a plasma screen showing ESPN highlights and a N INERS ’ T ERRITORY sign. It was a poster of his niece, Baby Sofie, dressed in nothing but a gummy smile, a diaper, a heart-tipped arrow, and a sash reading W INTER G ARDEN G ALA .
    He’d seen the posters plastered around town. He understood Valentine’s Day was fast approaching. He even understood why all of the local stores had rolled out their rose-petal welcoming mats, and why people were farting hearts and talking about love that lasts forever. But to invade his favorite sports bar was wrong. On so many levels.
    The Spigot was the only place left in Trey’s world that wasn’t dripping with domestication or girly shit. They didn’t serve skinny drinks or run their hours around nap time or offer a gluten-free menu. It was about beer, bros, business, and ball. Which was why Trey felt himself relax when he saw his three brothers lined up at the bar, shoving each other and arguing about, Trey assumed, who was going to win the Super Bowl.
    “You made it,” said Nate, the second oldest and most tightly-wound of the brothers, from the far end of the bar. “Good.”
    It was good. Trey had been home for three days, due to a disappearing passport that “somehow” wound up in ChiChi’s purse, and this was the first time that everyone’s schedule had allowed for any kind of brother bonding.
    Trey slid up to the bar and pulled out a stool. “I was just on a call with our buyer in Paris and he wants to reschedule—” He froze. What the hell was going on? “Is that an umbrella in your drink?”
    Nate slid a pink, foamy concoction, complete with pineapple slice and cherry skewer, down the bar. That was when Trey noticed that each one of his brothers was double-fisting not beer, not Jack, not even a glass of wine, but the most un-manly drinks ever ordered at this bar—and they were smiling about it.
    “Frankie wants to finalize the Frankie-Nate signature drink for the wedding. She’s calling it Pink Paradise and asked me to help narrow down the choices,” Nate said as though that wasn’t the pussiest sentence in the history of mankind.
    Signature drink? This had to be a joke. There was no way ball-buster Frankie with her steel-toed boots and wicked right hook would go for this. “Pink? Really? Are you shitting me?”
    “Hey, real men drink pink,” Marc said and Trey choked.
    Only two years apart in age and sharing common interests, mainly their love of women and freedom, Marc and Trey had always been close. Until Marc hooked up with his high-school crush, Lexi. Now his big brother was married, expecting, and so damn happy you could smell the marital bliss wafting off on him.
    In fact, all of his brothers stank of happiness, something Trey hadn’t smelled on a DeLuca since his parents were alive. Proving that, once again, right when Trey thought he’d finally caught up to his older brothers—in his newly