by K. K. Allen
“That vineyard is mine!” he roars.
“We can agree to disagree on that.”
“Fuck you.”
“No, thanks.”
Ridge tightens his hold on me, telling me to calm down. Sirens begin wailing in the distance. Part of me hopes Jason takes a shot between Thomas Bradshaw’s eyes, but I just might enjoy watching him rot behind bars more. Either way, the nightmare is finally over. Thomas Bradshaw can never hurt me, or anyone else, ever again.
Chapter 67
Camila
It’s over.
I blink at my computer screen and reread the news report for the hundredth time since it came out that morning. An investigation started directly following Thomas Bradshaw’s arrest two months ago, and the preliminary hearing came to a close yesterday. While he’s being tried for willful destruction of big game—for poaching—it’s the double-attempted murder sentence against me that will land him in jail for the rest of his life. According to my attorney, Thomas has all the odds stacked against him. He’ll lose his shares to the vineyard, rot in a prison cell, and I’ll happily wait for the final trial to see it all through.
A knock on my office door pulls me from my thoughts. I look up to find Trip standing there with a grief-stricken expression. I swallow, the former contempt I held for my old friend waning now that my head is clearer and I start to view the situation from his perspective. Or, at least I try to. No matter what Trip has done over the years to aggravate me and stoke the fires between his father and me, he had absolutely nothing to do with the crimes his father had committed. Trip and Raven are innocent in all of this, and I asked for them to come here today so that I could acknowledge that.
“Trip, hi.” I push my seat back and stand before making my way toward him. We’re a few feet away when I stop, hesitating to come any closer. We haven’t talked in person since before Thomas came after me in the mine. I can’t imagine what he must be going through. I glance behind him. “Is Raven with you?”
He shakes his head. “No, she-she couldn’t make it.” He opens and closes his mouth like he’s struggling with the right words to say. “I’m sorry, Camila, this isn’t easy.”
“Do you want to have a seat?” I gesture to the couch which he looks at, then he shakes his head again.
“No, I just wanted to see you and tell you how sorry I am about everything.” His jaw hardens and then he locks eyes on me. “I should have come sooner. Raven and I have been processing everything, and we’re just so sorry. We had no idea that he…”
The crestfallen look on Trip’s face breaks my heart. The evidence stacked against Thomas is too much for even his own children to disagree with. “Of course you didn’t. I imagine your father got very good at keeping secrets over the years. It’s not your fault.”
He nods and a few beats pass between us before he lets out a sigh. “I just—I’m not really sure how to move on from this, Camila. The vineyard is all my sister and I know. But of course we’ll resign. It’s the right thing to do.”
My throat squeezes and my eyes widen. “I would hate for you two to resign. I mean, I understand if that’s what you need to do, but the job is still yours if you want it.”
Trip blinks out his surprise. “Really? It wouldn’t be too hard working with us after—?”
I shake my head, letting him know there’s no need to finish. “Gus already accepted my job offer to return as groundskeeper. Things won’t be the same around here without you and Raven.”
He shifts while he assesses me with his stare. “Do you mind if I take some time to talk to my sister? I feel like this is a decision Raven and I should make together.”
“Of course. Take all the time you need.”
I’m met with a small, thankful smile, and a hesitant embrace. “Thank you, Camila.”
It’s late afternoon when I see him out. I grab the duffel bag I packed this morning and lock the door behind me. While there are so many unsettled feelings still swimming through me, I feel a sense of a new beginning, too. Not only will the vineyard be completely under my ownership soon, but Ridge and I have plans to open access to the bridge between both properties. Our childhood dreams are coming true, and it all finally feels like a reality.
There’s an unstoppable smile growing on my face as I walk between the vines down the slope that leads to the opening in the woods. I’m in no rush today. There’s no one to hide from, no one lurking in the bushes. It’s just me, closing up shop early so I can visit my man who’s currently busy in the cornfields.
I opted out of putting together a fall festival this year, but that doesn’t stop the harvest from taking place. The vineyard is full with locals who are hand picking grapes and adding them to the baskets that get picked up and taken to the presses. Bin after bin of redolent grapes are being coaxed into the early makings of wine at this very moment.
I know just where to find Ridge once I cross the bridge and enter the dry yellow field. While he spends the majority of his time at Wild One Ranch, he’s on a tractor today. He prefers to be the one out there on the first day of the harvests to open up the field in Harold’s honor.
I dash between a row of stalks and run between them until I hear the roar of machinery near me. Pushing my way through tall leaves, I find myself in a newly mowed clearing where Ridge is currently riding his tractor.
I drop my bag at my feet. With a wave of my arms, I catch his attention.
He shuts off the large tractor and stands up with a frown etched into handsome face. “Are you crazy? I could have run you over! Will you ever learn?”
I burst into a grin even bigger than the smile already on my face, and take off toward him. He laughs when I jump onto his tractor, throw my arms around his neck, and kiss the anger right off his mouth.
He pulls away from me with narrowed eyelids and an amused expression. “What’s gotten into you, Wild One?”
“Nothing. I just wanted to see you and I couldn’t wait until tonight. Can you take a break?”
He chuckles. “For you? I think I can manage that. Want me to drive us back to the house?”
“Actually, I have a better idea.” After hopping off the tractor, I walk toward where I dropped my duffel bag and open it. I pull out a wool blanket and spread it out before plopping down and reaching back into the bag for more surprises. There’s nothing but corn stalks on three sides of us and Ridge’s tractor blocking us from the opening he’d just mowed. There’s something so romantic about being surrounded by the field that first brought us together.
“What’s the occasion?” Ridge asks while sitting and accepting a wine glass and letting me fill it for him.
“It’s the first day of our harvest. I figured since we weren’t having a big festival, you and I could celebrate together.”
We clink glasses and he pulls his drink to his quirked lips. “That’s awfully sweet of you.”
I bat my lashes. “I might have had some less-than-sweet ideas after cornering you in the field.”
He gasps, feigning shock. “You don’t say. I’d love to hear what you had in mind.”
Giggling, I set my glass down in the field debris and pluck something else out of my bag. By the bend of his brows, I can see his curiosity written all over his face. I hold up the bunch of red grapes and move to straddle him, then I dangle the fruit between us with a teasing smile. “Usually, there’s a grape stomp at the festival.”
“And you want to stomp those in my cornfield?”
Laughing again, I shake my head. “Not exactly.” I lift the cluster so it’s dangling right above his mouth. “Take one.”
His teeth move around a grape and then he tears it off the stem with a quick move of his head. Moving closer to him, I bite down on the exposed end of the fruit and crush it between us. “Oops,” I say.
He glares back at me as juice spills down our mouths and over our clothes. I lick across his lips before placing another grape between his teeth and doing it all over again. Before I can crush the next one between us,
Ridge is tossing it aside and taking my mouth with his. Our kiss is wet and sticky, but I don’t care. He still makes my knees weak and my stomach flip, like he’s the one in control now.
I miss him the second he starts to pull back from the kiss, but I’m intrigued when he places his glass of wine to my lips.
“Drink.”
I do as he says, loving his hooded gaze while he grows firm beneath me. I barely sip the wine before he pulls the glass away and continues to pour the dark liquid down my chin. “Oops.”
Wine drips down my neck and between my breasts, then his tongue is lapping up the liquid in one clean stroke. When he reaches my breasts, he stays there. My game just turned into his, and I’m not complaining.
He pushes down the fabric of my dress and stretches my straps as he exposes the pink lace of my bra. Without bothering to remove the garment, his mouth closes around my nipple sending a ripple of shivers straight through me. His tongue feathers me as he shifts me against his lap with his other hand.
I’m warm all over and I’m already so wet. I can feel my sopping panties as I rub against his hard cock. The friction makes me dizzy. Just the thought of taking him inside me causes my belly to flip in anticipation.
I throw my head back as he teases my breasts—one and then the other—before a moan slips past my throat. He growls in response and makes quick work of my dress straps, pulling them down along with the rest of my dress until it’s bunched around my waist. My bra snaps open behind me as he frees me for his greedy mouth. Teeth wrap my nipple next, sending a shock wave to every nerve ending. He isn’t biting down on me, but the threat of him doing so is electrifying and so stimulating.
The ache between my thighs becomes unbearable. He knows it, too. I shiver again in his hold, and the corners of his mouth turn up while it’s still wrapped around my nipple.
“Ridge,” I beg, and I don’t have to say anything more.
He places me on my back and moves down my body, leaving my bunched up dress around my waist as he spreads me. He pushes away the fabric of my panties and leans down until his hot mouth is hovering over me. His licks that follow are gentle and slow as he laps me from my back to my front. I squirm, forcing him to hold me in place as he eats me just the way I love.
Finally, his mouth moves back to my clit and his tongue flicks over me without mercy. He’s growling into me like a starved man, and sucking me hard like he’s desperate for more. He’s unrelenting, torturing me with all the pleasure he knows I need before letting me give him anything in return.
This is us. Like everything else, sex isn’t an act, it’s a journey. We aren’t afraid to take the uncharted path. We aren’t afraid to take the long road. In fact, we revel in it.
I moan when two thick fingers push inside me as his tongue continues to whip my clit. I’m so close to an orgasm when I slide my hands through his long disheveled hair and hold him down between my thighs. But Ridge apparently has other plans. He rips his finger and mouth away simultaneously and crawls up my body, taking my mouth with his.
“I want you on my tractor.” He’s breathless with his request.
I look over his shoulder at the large red machine with a single seat that rests close to the giant steering wheel. “Is that possible?”
He grins. “We’ll make it possible.”
He helps me to stand and kisses me while he slips off my remaining articles of clothing, and I help him undress, too. Then we’re climbing onto his tractor and he’s pushing his seat back as far as it will go before he guides me over his engorged cock.
His thickness is never something I’ll get used to, I’ve already figured that out. And when I sink down around him this time, I’m just as shocked by the sensation of him as I was that very first time. He spreads me wide and enters me, sinking so deeply I can barely breathe once I’m completely seated. And then I’m moving, with my hands pressing down on his shoulders and his rough hands gripping my ass. He moves me at a steady pace, building my orgasm slowly before I warn him of my pending release. Our eyes burn into each other’s, his gorgeous chocolate ones into my green ones, and he’s right there with me.
“I love you, Wild One,” he says against my bruised lips.
I quicken my pace and kiss him right back. “I love you so much, Ridge.” I breathe out, my energy nearly gone as I give him the last of me, riding him as the sun dips beneath the horizon.
It’s total darkness, save for the bright beams of the tractor lights into the cornfield, as I bring us both to climax. As our release shakes through us and our moans dissolve past each other’s lips, our bodies start to weaken. There’s something about today, this moment, that feels momentous. We’ve been through so much to get here, and it’s finally our time. This is our beginning to a full and meaningful life together. We’ve surpassed our greatest odds and become stronger for it. And it’s all thanks to a bridge between us … a bridge that now connects us in all the ways we’ve always dreamed.
Epilogue
Ridge, One Year Later
My Wild One is back in every sense of the word. Whatever Thomas and Dave stripped from her that night over a decade ago is completely dead and buried. She’s currently running through the cornfield, with her hair tossing in the wind and her cheeks pointed at the sun, as her feet carry her toward our hillside. She has everything to smile about and nothing to fear, and so do I.
Thomas went to prison and was sentenced to life behind bars, but that life ran short after Camila worked with her attorney to prove what she’d suspected and worse. Thomas Bradshaw was not only a poacher but also the leader of a poaching ring gone awry.
Over the years, the original poaching ring had disbanded, leaving Dave and Thomas as the last remaining members before Thomas began to recruit new ones. Some of them used Dave’s property to access the mine, giving them thousands of acres to hunt.
Once all evidence was presented and Thomas Bradshaw was forced to forfeit all shares to the vineyard, he completely lost it. He stole a prison guard’s gun and killed himself, leaving his two kids nothing.
Camila, being the beautiful human she is, offered Trip and Raven an opportunity to keep their jobs. In the end, they both remained, since the vineyard is all they’ve ever known.
With Thomas removed, they had their challenges in the beginning, but it was all worth it. Together, they spent the past year building a new business model, one that saw less value in quantity and more value in quality, which Camila oversaw with grace and a determination to carry out her family’s legacy.
Today, I follow Camila to the top of the hillside, but this time, we sit at the edge of the peak that overlooks our neighboring properties. We’ve opened public access to the property via the bridge. I take her hand in mine and smile as her eyes mist with tears at the sight below our dangling feet.
“We did it,” she says as emotion spills out of her, which seems to be happening a lot lately.
I wrap an arm around her shoulders and press my lips to her cheek. “We did it. Just like you said we would.”
“Look at how happy everyone is,” she gushes as we watch families stroll through the vineyard and little kids chase each other through the cornfield mazes I set up for the fall festival. This year, we decided the fall festival would be one giant party, celebrating the Cross Farm, Wild One Ranch, and Bell Family Vineyard. Guests pack both properties, and the real festivities haven’t even started yet.
“I just had to see it from up here.” She looks back at me with a bright smile. “We changed the future, just like we said we would.”
“To be fair,” I say with a smile of my own, “I think that was all you. I’m just along for the ride.”
She chuckles and shakes her head. “You’re so modest.”
“I’m not being modest. You’re the one with all the ideas.”
“Maybe.” She tilts her head, giving me that adoring look that makes my heart skip beats. “But you’re my hero, Ridge Cross. You save my life every single day just by existing. None of this could ha
ve happened without you. We did this together.”
I lean in and kiss her, loving the way she melts to me like it’s the very first time when we sat on that mountain in Ouray. “Okay, you win.”
She grins against my lips. “Don’t I always?”
I nod and push her back into the wildflowers. “Yes, Wild One. Always.”
By the time we get back to the festival, it’s time for the grape stomping to begin. Familiar faces crowd the barrel as an announcer invites Camila onto the stage, where she slips off her shoes and steps into the large round bin. She laughs as she picks up the fabric of her white dress and waits for the music to begin.
We’ve talked about this day over the past year, since last year’s festival was canceled. Camila was nervous to even hold another event now that her papa isn’t there to step into the grapes. But her mama is there, right by her side.
I laugh as they dance, their dresses getting more stained by the second as they slip and fall together. When the song is over, Camila’s mom looks over at me and winks, telling me it’s my cue. I smile and hop onto the platform before stripping off my shoes and jumping into the grapes to join Camila.
We dance and laugh, then I pick Camila up and spin her while placing a kiss on her mouth for everyone to cheer for. And at the precise moment that Camila turns back toward the crowd and away from me, I kneel and slip a velvet box out of my pocket.
A hush falls over the crowd as the music stops, and Camila looks around, thinking something must have gone wrong. When she finally turns around and looks down at me, her eyes turn misty as her hands fly to her mouth. “Oh my god.”
I can’t stop smiling. “Camila Bell, Wild One, what do you say we officially end this feud once and for all? Marry me. Be mine forever.”
