"And now?"
"Now I think I was just scared." I turned to face her fully, needing her to see the truth in my eyes. "Scared of wanting something I might lose. Scared of being the one who needed saving instead of doing the saving."
Lila's expression softened, her free hand coming up to trace the line of my jaw. "You save people every day, Griffin. That hasn't changed just because you're also building a life here."
"No, but what has changed is that I'm not doing it alone anymore." I caught her hand, pressing a kiss to her palm. "I never understood what people meant when they talked about partnership—real partnership. I thought it meant giving up independence or compromising who you were. But with you..."
"With me?"
"With you, I'm more myself than I've ever been. Stronger, not weaker. More focused, not distracted." I smiled, remembering the conversation with Elise that had started all of this. "My aunt was right. I was running just as much as you were."
"And now we're both standing still," Lila said with a soft smile.
"Actually," I said, standing and pulling her up with me, "I think we're both flying."
The last rays of sunlight caught the wine in our glasses as we finished them, the Cabernet warming my chest almost as much as the sight of Lila's face in the golden hour light. She looked happy—truly, deeply happy in a way that went beyond professional success or personal achievement. She looked like a woman who had found exactly where she belonged.
"Dance with me," I said suddenly, setting our empty glasses aside.
"There's no music," she protested, but she was already moving into my arms.
"There's always music," I murmured against her ear as I pulled her close. "You just have to know how to listen."
And there was—the soft whisper of wind through the grapevines, the distant sound of waves against the cliffs, the quiet settling sounds of the winery as the day wound down. We swayed together on the terrace, lost in our own world as the stars began to appear in the darkening sky.
"Griffin?" Lila's voice was soft, thoughtful.
"Mmm?"
"Thank you."
"For what?"
"For stopping that day when my car broke down. For giving me a ride. For showing me that sometimes the best things happen when your plans fall apart."
I pulled back to look at her, this incredible woman who had turned my carefully ordered life upside down in the best possible way. "Thank you for letting me."
"For letting you what?"
"Fall in love with you."
She smiled then, the kind of smile that could power entire cities, and reached up to kiss me. It was soft and sweet and full of promise—the kiss of a woman who had finally stopped running, finally stopped planning, finally stopped being afraid of what she might lose if she let herself want something.
When we broke apart, the first stars were visible overhead, bright pinpoints in the darkening sky. The harvest moon was rising over the mountains, full and golden and perfect. In a few weeks, these vines would be heavy with fruit ready for picking. The cycle would begin again—crushing, fermenting, aging, bottling. The patient art of turning simple grapes into something extraordinary.
Not unlike what had happened to us, I thought. We'd started as simple elements—a stranded motorist and a reluctantgood Samaritan. But time and patience and the willingness to take risks had transformed us into something neither of us could have imagined on our own.
"Come on," Lila said, taking my hand. "I want to show you something."
She led me down the stone steps toward the vineyard, our path lit by the rising moon and the soft glow of the landscape lighting. We walked between the rows of vines, their leaves rustling softly in the evening breeze. The grapes hung heavy on the vines, dark clusters that would soon be transformed into next year's vintages.
"Here," she said, stopping at a particular vine near the center of the vineyard. "This one."
"What's special about this one?" I asked, though they all looked the same to me.
"This is where I was standing the first time I realized I was in love with you," she said simply. "Three weeks ago, during the evening walk-through. I was checking the sugar levels, thinking about harvest timing, and suddenly I found myself wondering what you'd think of the way the moonlight looked on the grapes. Whether you'd want to walk through the vineyard with me. Whether you'd think it was beautiful or just... agricultural."
I laughed softly. "And?"
