CHAPTER EIGHT

God, it felt good to be useful again.

And to be in the kitchen creating.

Even if she was just chopping veggies and doing prep work, Vica was happy to no longer be wasting away in Wyatt's house waiting for the other foot to drop, or whatever the English idiom was.

Seeing Wyatt in his element as the big boss was a bonus too.

Though, it did nothing to quell her growing attraction to him. In fact, it was like fast-acting fertilizer for her crush on the single dad. He wasn't a jerk of a boss. He was stern, but fair. He smiled and joked with his staff, and he didn't seem to get frazzled, even when a big order came in.

She was busy removing the stems and skins of a huge bowl of cremini mushrooms when Dom's voice in the bar rose to a level that made everyone pause. Although Vica didn't know the man particularly well, she'd never heard him yell. And now, he was yelling.

"You can't just go back there. Hey! What the hell do you think you're doing? Wyatt!"

Pandemonium filled the kitchen when the door from the bar swung open and two immigration officers followed by officers Duane Fischer and Dan Jenkins entered the kitchen .

"We're looking for Ludovica Vitale," said the blond immigration officer with the red birthmark on the left side of his jaw. The birthmark was about the size of a golf ball, but irregular in shape. In fact, it was shaped a lot like Spain.

"Why?" Wyatt said, getting right up in the guy's face.

"Not only has her visa expired, but these officers have received reports that she stole and leaked classified documents from Croft Engineering to one of their competitors." Spain Birthmark glanced at the cops for verification. Duane and Dan both nodded.

Vica's bottom jaw nearly hit the tile floor.

"The information was sent to N-ER-G Solartek International and that goes against the contract she signed when she started with Croft Engineering Ltd.," Dan said, holding up a piece of paper that could just as easily have been the results of his cholesterol test. "We have verification from both companies."

Wyatt snatched it from his hand so fast, Vica hoped the cop got a papercut. "Let me fucking see that. Dom, call Gabrielle and Bennett, now!"

"On it," Dom said, disappearing back into the front of house.

"Why should we fucking believe a piece of paper?" Wyatt asked. "Anybody could have fabricated this. This proves nothing. You have no evidence. Just one company who is looking to cover their ass when she wouldn't take their hush money, and another who is run by fucking cowards and probably being blackmailed or some shit by Croft." He shook his head. "You have jack shit, and this is nothing but a fucking scare tactic."

"Ms. Vitale's work visa has run its course and she has failed to obtain another one. She is to be detained, and then deported," Spain Birthmark said. "She is coming with us."

Vica hadn't even noticed until that moment, but all the kitchen staff had slowly moved to create a barrier between her and the immigration and police officers. They all also held some kind of weapon. Whether that was planned as well or not, each of them held either a knife or a big metal spoon. Except for Radcliffe, the dishwasher, as he held metal tongs. What he planned to do with those, Vica wasn't prepared to guess.

"Gabrielle is on her way," Dom said, reentering the kitchen.

"Ms. Vitale killed a man in cold blood on your property and yet you're defending her?" Officer Fischer asked, disgust in his tone. "How would you like that to get out to all your loyal customers and followers? Wouldn't do well for business."

"Is that a threat, Duane?" Dom said. "Did a cop just threaten our business?"

"Sure did," Radcliffe said, his phone out. "And I caught it on camera."

"Put that away," the other immigration officer said. They were the first words he spoke since getting there and his tone was menacing to go along with his deep, raspy voice. He took a step toward Radcliffe, but the kid—who couldn't have been more than nineteen—held up his tongs like a sword.

"Come and get me, big fella. I'm one finger click away from live streaming this whole fucking thing."

The immigration officer grunted and took a step back.

"That's what I thought," Radcliffe said, his voice only cracking a touch.

"New evidence has come to light," Jenkins added, "regarding the death of Track Croft. We have every right to take Ms. Vitale into custody. And if you make this difficult, we can charge everyone here with obstruction and have this whole place shut down."

"Obstruction," Burke piped up, his big back a solid barrier between Vica and the people who wanted to deport and arrest her. "That's a big word. Was that a word in your jumble today, Dan? Did you have to Google what it meant?"

Jenkin's face went redder than it already was.

More than anything, what they were all doing was stalling until Gabrielle could get there. Vica needed someone who actually knew the law, and not a bunch of civilians who caught the tail end of the odd Law and Order episode.

"Gabrielle just pulled up," Dom said, glancing at his phone.

Vica exhaled in relief, but it wasn't a full exhale. The men there to collect her weren't prepared to leave without her and they seemed to be ready to do whatever that took, including arresting and charging everyone there.

In less that a minute, a chestnut-haired goddess with amber eyes of fire and fury, burst into the kitchen. "What the hell is going on here, gentlemen?"

"Ms. Vitale's visa has expired," Spain birthmark said. "She needs to come with us."

Gabrielle checked her phone. "Ah, see, I have a copy of Ms. Vitale's visa documents here and technically, legally, she has three more days. So you're wrong there, as well as many other places, I'm sure."

Birthmark grunted and seemed to have smelled something foul judging by the face he made.

"Yes, but, we have reports of her stealing classified documents and handing them over to a competitor," Duane said, waving the paper around like it was a recording of Vica bludgeoning Track to death or something.

Gabrielle snatched it from the man with even more anger than Wyatt had. She snorted after a cursory glance. "This is garbage and you know it. Could have been easily fabricated, and its pretty convenient timing considering my client just declined Croft Engineering's attempt to silence her with hush money. So they're trying to silence her in a different way."

"Well, until that is proven one way or another, we need to detain her," Duane said, yanking up the waistband of his pants to zero avail.

"Do you have a warrant for Ms. Vitale's arrest?" Gabrielle asked.

Dan and Duane's face's fell.

Gabrielle's grin was filled with triumph, but almost in an evil-Disney-queen kind of way. Thank god, she was on Vica's side. "Then you're not taking my client anywhere."

"Well then, we'll just be back in three days when her visa expires," the deep-voiced immigration officer said. "It's only a matter of time. We have no record of a flight out for Ms. Vitale and unless she has a visa pending for this establishment—and you can prove she hasn't stolen a job from an American citizen, and she's working here illegally—then you're just prolonging the inevitable and making everyone's jobs more difficult."

"And I care about making your job easier, why?" Wyatt asked.

Both immigration officers grunted and glared at him.

Gabrielle threw her shoulders back. "You're not taking her without a warrant, and she still has three days left on her visa. So I suggest you four leave before—"

"Before what?" Duane challenged, staring down Gabrielle. "You seem to forget who you're talking to, girlie."

A few of the kitchen staff gasped.

Vica hadn't known Gabrielle for long, but even she knew not to test this woman and calling her "girlie" was surely a big test on whether or not Officer Fischer would be keeping his testes.

To everyone's utter surprise, Gabrielle smiled. Her eyes told a different story though. One of death, destruction, revenge, and ruin. "I have not forgotten, Officer Fischer. But I do appreciate the reminder. However, I would also like to remind you that my friend, Radcliffe, over there, is filming this and while I won't assault an officer of the law, I will put him in his place. You, sir, are a washed up, windbag, sack of shit who should have retired a decade ago when his wife had the good sense to finally leave him. You can't walk ten feet without getting winded and I'm sure you're one hamburger away from a fatal heart attack, and yet, they still believe you are suitable to uphold the law, and serve and protect. You have no warrant, just an inflated sense of superiority and an ego that needs some serious pruning—much like your nose hairs. So, I will say again, unless you have a warrant and Vica's visa has actually expired, your presence here is no longer needed or welcomed." She glanced at the camera and smiled. "Come visit Westhaven Winery on San Camanez, mention this video for a complementary glass on the house." Then the woman with ovaries the size of a Sicilian red orange, winked at the camera.

Mouths around the kitchen hung open, including the immigration officers.

"We'll be back in three days," birthmark finally said .

Vica had been so caught up with Gabrielle's speech that she hadn't been watching Wyatt. But now she was, and the man looked—she didn't really know how he looked actually. Scared? Maybe a little angry? Most definitely. But there was something else there too, which made him difficult to read.

But it was what he said next that made Vica's heart nearly hit her feet.

"No need to come back," he said, "Vica and I are engaged, and getting married tomorrow. She'll be married to a US citizen before her visa expires."

Dom's mouth dropped open, as did Gabrielle's, and Burke's. It was also the perfect timing for Bennett to walk in. "What?" he said, stopping in his tracks.

But deep-voiced immigration officer wasn't buying it. He scoffed. "Green card marriage, obviously. It won't hold up."

"Too fucking bad, if that's what you think. It'll take ages to prove it. You come back in three days and she'll be Mrs. Ludovica Vitale-McEvoy, the legal wife of an American citizen. Try to take her away and I really will fight you." Wyatt slid a glance Vica's way, then addressed everyone else. "We've kept it a secret because yes, it is very sudden. But Vica and I have fallen in love, and I can't imagine my life, my home, without her. I proposed this morning, and she said yes." He moved around the kitchen until his staff—still all slack-jawed—parted like the Red Sea and he could wrap an arm around Vica. He kissed the side of her head and her whole face became one big flame.

Fischer and Jenkins didn't seem to know what to say. The immigration officers both just seemed entirely annoyed with the fact that they'd been called over to the island and were not leaving with anybody.

Wyatt's grip on Vica tightened and he flashed a big smile at the officers. "We'd invite you to the ceremony tomorrow, but, well, it's just going to be family and friends. And also, we don't like you."

Radcliffe snorted.

Gabrielle turned to the officers, having barely recovered from Wyatt's declaration. "You heard him, gentlemen. I will see you out. The happy couple have a wedding to plan." She started shooing them with her hands like a mother might do to children, and even though the reluctance—and confusion—was painted all over the men's faces, they obliged and left the kitchen. Gabrielle and Dom followed them.

"I'm going to see them to the end of the laneway," Dom said.

"Me too," Bennett piped up. He turned back to Wyatt. "We're gonna talk about this though."

Wyatt turned to Vica, taking her hands. "I'm sorry. I couldn't think of anything else to do. We can get it annulled once we secure you a new visa. I've been researching how to get quick visas and a green card by marrying a citizen seemed to be the fastest and most legitimate way." His smile was lopsided, and so utterly kissable, Vica had to bite her own lip to stop herself from lunging forward and capturing his. "I'm sorry I blindsided you."

She needed to say something. She'd been standing there, staring at his mouth, her eyes wide as her heart pounded against her sternum. "I …" Her head shook. "I can not … I can not ask you to do this."

"It's okay." He squeezed her hands in his and dear god, did it ever feel good. "I don't see any other way to protect you. And also, this way—as your husband—I won't be made to testify against you in court if it comes to that. I was the first person you saw, and even though I totally believe you about what happened, you know how lawyers can get and how desperate Wyndham Croft seems to be. I wouldn't put it past them to put me on the stand."

She was still shaking her head.

"We just need to buy some time until Gabrielle figures things out and we can get you a proper visa, and your name cleared."

Everyone in the kitchen had somewhat gone back to work, but it was obvious they were keeping one ear tuned into what was going on between Wyatt and Vica.

"Let me help you, Vica." The sincerity and pleading in his eyes wasn't even what broke her resolve, it was the way his thumbs gently slid back and forth over the tops of her hands. She wasn't even sure he was aware he was doing it, but it felt so good, so reassuring, so … right.

Finally, she nodded, unable to shake her head anymore because a stupid, hopeful part of her was excited. Her tomboy childhood self would be ridiculing her terribly right now for being giddy over a sham of a marriage to a man as good and wholesome as Wyatt. But she didn't care. This man wanted to help her, he wanted to protect her. He cared. And it'd been a long time since she'd let anybody in long enough for them to care about her. It felt really nice. "Okay," she whispered.

His smile outshone every lightbulb in the kitchen. "Really?"

She nodded again. "Yeah."

"Awesome."

"But just until we figure things out," she said quickly.

Was that a frown?

No, she had to be seeing things.

"Of course, of course. Totally. We'll get it annulled as soon as your name is cleared and you have a new job lined up. In the meantime, you're more than welcome to continue working here, you're doing a great job and Rico will be out for a while with that broken leg. So we could use the help."

"Are you offering me a job and a marriage?"

His smile made her belly do a flip. "I guess I am."

"I accept both."

"Awesome!" His eyes turned serious. "Shit. I guess we need to go to Seattle tomorrow and buy a marriage license."

"O-okay."

"Crap. Okay, I need to get some coverage for us then in the kitchen." He blew out a breath. "Damn, I didn't think things through."

Burke came up behind him and slapped him on the shoulder. "I guess congratulations are in order?"

Wyatt blew out another breath, his eyes a little wild. "I need to go to Seattle tomorrow to get the marriage license. "

"Okay."

"But we're already short staffed."

"Naw, not tomorrow." Burke shook his head and peeled Wyatt away from Vica. "Come look at the schedule. Frankie and Seth are back tomorrow, and Ezzie is on a split. We can see if Hal will come in, and I think he will. He was just in Seattle today visiting his sister since she just had a baby. Olive has said she wants more shifts—she just couldn't come in today because she was getting some dental work done. We'll make it work, don't worry. You go do what you need to do."

Wyatt glanced over his shoulder at Vica. "Want to go to Seattle tomorrow?"

Vica lifted one shoulder. "Sure?"

Holy crap. Tomorrow was her wedding day.

And even though it wasn't a real wedding, her next thought immediately went to her father and brother. Neither man would be there to walk her down the aisle. Only, when Wyatt smiled at her, the worry of the kitchen not having enough staff gone from his eyes, her sadness faded. Maybe she didn't need anybody to walk her down the aisle. Not when she had someone like Wyatt waiting at the end for her.

"Go home," Wyatt said at ten-thirty that night.

"But you're not going home."

"I have about another half hour here, then I'll go up too. I just have to finalize a few things for my absence tomorrow."

Thankfully, the remainder of their day and night in the kitchen was a whirlwind. The restaurant was slammed from three in the afternoon until ten at night, with barely enough of a lull for Vica to use the restroom. It was good though. It kept her mind busy enough on the task that she didn't have time to think about tomorrow, or the fact that immigration showed up, and Croft Engineering was fabricating false accusations against her to incriminate her.

In fact, the kitchen got so busy that Wyatt moved her up from prep to the cold line, and had her helping Nancy with salads and sandwiches.

She was dead on her feet, stinky, and in desperate need of a shower by the time the kitchen closed. But she was also happy. She was being useful.

And …

She was engaged.

That stupid smile was back on her face.

It was the smile that glued itself to her lips whenever she had half a second to think about the fact that Wyatt McEvoy asked her to marry him.

To save her ass from getting deported and arrested, of course. But he asked, nonetheless.

Dom came into the kitchen just as Vica was removing her apron. "I'm heading home. Ginny is going to close the bar for me tonight. Nadine and Renée are both still here too."

"You mind walking with Vica?" Wyatt asked, sitting in his office with a pad of paper on his lap. "I'm gonna be another half an hour."

Dom nodded. "Sure thing."

Vica smiled at the handsome man with the man bun and headed outside via the back staff door. "Thanks," she said as they emerged into the fresh, warm, salty evening air. It was dark out now, the sky a blanket of stars on an inky backdrop. "I doubt there's a gunman in the bush waiting to take me out. But I do appreciate the company."

Dom shoved his hands in his pockets and grunted. "No worries."

They fell into a bit of an awkward silence for a minute or two. Was he mad at her for bringing chaos to his family's doorstep?

"You know I did not put Wyatt up to this, right? I had no idea he was planning to ask me to marry him. I wasn't even thinking that was an option. It never entered my brain."

"I know," he said plainly. "But for what it's worth, it's a good idea."

She glanced at him long enough to catch his eye. "You are not mad?"

"Why would I be mad?"

"I … I don't know. I just don't want you or your brothers to think I'm playing some game. Because I'm not. I will sign a prenup or whatever you want me to sign. I don't want anything from Wyatt." Was she arguing her case too much? Would he think she was faking it? Because she wasn't. She really wasn't.

"Just don't break his heart. That's all I have to say." They reached the gate and Dom punched in the code, then held the door open for her.

"I … it's not like that."

"Isn't it?"

She shook her head. "No. It's not. I swear. Wyatt has been so respectful."

Perhaps too respectful.

"Everyone in your family has been nothing but kind and compassionate toward me. I would never do anything to jeopardize that."

Dom nodded. "That's good to hear."

They stopped in the driveway. "Dom, I am serious. I care a great deal about your brother … and your nephews. About all of you. I would rather be deported or go to jail than see any of you get hurt. Please know that."

His lips pressed together until they formed a thin, flat line. Maybe he was trying to smile, but the corners didn't tip up enough for Vica to be able to tell. "Ginny is going to cover for me at the bar tomorrow, so I'll take the boys. You and Wyatt go do what you need to do in Seattle, and we'll see you when you get back." He turned to go.

"Dom—"

He stopped a couple of steps away from her and half spun around. "It's been weird, you know … watching Clint, then Bennett, move on. And now Wyatt—"

"It's not like that."

"I' ve seen the way he looks at you. And the way you look at him. It might not be like that yet, but it will be."

Vica's mouth opened, but nothing came out.

"It's weird. But not in a bad way. I'm not sure I'll ever get there though. Or maybe it just takes the right person to get you there. Clint never dated after Jacqueline died, neither did Bennett after Carla. And I know Wyatt had a one-night stand a few years ago after Sheila, but that was it. And I've …" He pursed his lips, "I've been celibate since Remy died."

"Dom …" Now her heart was breaking for his man.

His throat moved hard on a swallow. "It's weird, but it's also great. To see my brothers find love again. For our family to grow. Maybe I'm jealous … or envious … or doubting whether it'll ever happen for me. I don't know what I'm feeling right now."

What could she say? There was nothing she could say. And it didn't seem like he wanted her to reply. He just had something on his chest that he needed to shed, and whether she was the target all along, or just the first available sounding board, he was pouring out his heart to her.

"I take what your family is doing for me … what Wyatt is doing for me, very seriously. I have no intention of hurting anybody. And whether there is something more there between us or not, we haven't explored it. I think you're seeing things, but I'm not going to argue with you."

Now, he smiled. "You're a very smart woman, Vica. Thank you for your help in the kitchen tonight. I hear you're going to be in there more often. That will be nice."

"I feel good being useful."

He nodded. "Goodnight, Vica."

"Goodnight, Dom."

He headed to his house, leaving her just in front of Wyatt's. She watched him enter his house through the front door, and only once the latch snicked shut, did she finally move her tennis shoes and head to Wyatt's front door .

Jagger sat on the couch; his nose buried in a book. Much like Wyatt, the man definitely pulled off glasses. He reminded her of a sexy librarian bear, if that was even a thing.

"So, I hear congratulations are in order," Jagger said, peeling himself off the couch. "You're about to become a sister-in-law." He was all handsome, toothy smiles beneath his thick, luscious beard.

"It's not permanent."

He shrugged. "None of us are permanent if you stop and think about it. Nobody gets out of life alive." He headed for the door. "For what it's worth, I don't know you very well, but from what I do know, I think you would be a great addition to our family. We have a movie star and a doctor, but not an engineer yet. I mean, it'd be cool if you were a lawyer too. In-house council is always a bonus."

That made her snort. "I dunno, I think Gabrielle is a beast I'd hate to go up against in court."

"That whole family is a beast," he murmured. "Especially her cousin Raina."

"Oh?"

He rolled his eyes and growled, his hand on the doorknob. "Never mind. Gabrielle is an ice cube, but if she can help you, then that's great. I'm happy to see her able to put our families' differences aside and be professional."

"Your families have problems?" Was Gabrielle going to wait until the last minute and screw over Vica as a way to screw over the McEvoys? Did Vica need to find a new lawyer?

"Not really," he said, scratching his neck. "I mean, everyone is vying for this plot of land on the island. We want it to expand our business. We want to put more cabins, plant hops, and maybe build a pavilion for weddings and stuff. But Gabrielle and her cousins want it too because it's apparently primo grape-growing land since its south-facing. Myla, and her orchard and cidery friends, want it too. Though, I don't know why. And the guys who own the distillery want it as well. Everyone wants it. "

"And is it to the highest bidder or how is it decided who gets it?"

"The best proposal wins. The island elders will select who gets it. It will be bequeathed from a will or something. I dunno. All I know is an old dude died and just to stick it to everyone one last time, he decided to do some weird-ass Hunger Games shit and make us fight for the land, giving the deciding votes to more super-old people who like to dance naked around a bonfire on the solstices."

Vica's brows shot up her forehead. "What?"

He waved his hands to dismiss her. "If you stick around the island, you'll realize most of the people here are batshit bananas."

"Batshit bananas?"

"Crazy. Nutso. Off their freaking rockers."

"Off their freaking rockers?"

"Raina is the worst though. That's Gabrielle's cousin. She's doing whatever she can to swing the island elders votes her way. She visits them, cleans their gutters, and who knows what other shit. It's despicable."

"Okay."

His sneer told a different story though. Yes, he was frustrated with this woman, but there was a glimmer in his blue eyes that said he had more than just contempt for this woman.

How curious.

"Anyway, I'm glad Gabrielle is helping you. Just … be wary if you meet Raina. I wouldn't put it past that woman to carry a knife with her at all times, just so she has one on hand to drive into someone's back if the mood should strike her." He opened the door, only to reveal Justine and Brooke on the other side.

Brooke's hand was raised, poised to knock. "Oh! Perfect timing." She had a bunch of dresses thrown over her arm, as did Justine. "We come with dresses for you to try on for the wedding tomorrow."

"That's my cue," Jagger said. "Good luck tomorrow. And hey, welcome to the family. "

Justine and Brooke rushed inside.

"I … I do not need to dress up. It's not a real wedding," Vica protested, craving a hot shower so she could rid her body of all the sweat and grease, and whatever else from the day.

"That's ridiculous," Justine said. "It will be legally binding. A real wedding. And it needs to look real. It needs to be convincing, so when you have that immigration interview, you can show them the picture and how madly in love with each other you are."

Brooke was already heading upstairs. "Let us play Barbie. Come on, Vica. Time to get dressed for your wedding."

Vica hung her head and followed. "Fine. But can I at least have a shower first?"

"Good idea," Justine said, right behind her. "I can smell you from here and you smell like a french fry."