“For so long. I should have said it sooner, but I fucking love you. So much it hurts. You own my heart.”
Aside from his ten thousand texts, we hadn’t talked through our problems, but his confession had my limbs tingling, heat radiating through my body. My life had turned around in the past months. I had a future filled with wine and learning, and I couldn’t wait to be an aunt. My mother was still overbearing and difficult, but she supported my choice of career and men.
It was time to keep moving forward and give Jimmy a second chance. “I love you,” I whispered. “So much it hurts.”
He spun me, so quickly I gripped his shoulders to keep from toppling. Tenderness softened the steel in his blue-gray eyes. “I’m sorry. The things I said to you were horrible. I’d take them back if I could. I know you, Ray. I know you’d never use me or side against me. Even thinking how I lit into you makes me sick. I’m not sure I deserve your forgiveness, but I’m done burying my past. It’s part of me. The good and the bad. I want nothing more than for you to be my future.”
God, his sincerity. It coated every word and soothed my bruised heart. A balm I was ready to accept. “It’s okay. I understand. But you ever accuse me of stuff like that again, assume the worst without a discussion, and an apology won’t cut it. This is a one-time deal.”
He straightened, fierceness in the sharp lines of his face. “As it should be.”
We stood like that a moment, and I could sense his need, both of us fighting the pull to grab each other and kiss until we’d erased our pain. My gaze fell to his tie, the silky fabric, wondering how it would feel around my wrists. Maybe a little pain wouldn’t be so bad.
He dug his thumbs into my hipbones, possessive and hot as hell. “Don’t worry, I’ll string your arms up with it later.”
“Presumptuous much?” But the man could read me. And sweet Jesus, the visual. My skin nearly lit on fire.
“Just calling it like I see it. And you, Sunshine, have it bad for me.”
Suddenly parched, I scanned the area for a glass of water. A sprinkler to run through? Then I was picturing a dripping wet Jimmy, and I could barely swallow. “Let’s get back to this contest of yours.”
People milled around, curious glances coasting over us. Jimmy and his ink garnered much interest, as did my revealing skirt and halter top. They could look all they wanted.
He winked. “A blind tasting, of course.”
“Back to where we started?” Our second chance. He nodded, but staying among these people when he could be apologizing in private lacked appeal. “Can this game wait until later? I believe your tongue has more atoning to do. Certain places on my body haven’t decided if you’re forgiven. It could take weeks.”
He chuckled and nestled his hand into the small of my back. “I’ve missed you like crazy, and not kissing you right now, everywhere, is killing me, but I want to do this right. It won’t take long.”
Grudgingly, I yielded. He led me to one of the stations, where I promptly downed a glass of water. That’s when I recognized April in her black slacks and top, pouring wines.
“You won!” My shout had glances flying my way, but I hadn’t seen her since I’d been booted from the contest. We weren’t exactly close, but she’d always been nice, and beating the Schnozinator was no easy feat.
She beamed. “I did. Thanks to Jimmy. If he hadn’t stepped down, I wouldn’t have had the chance.”
“Well, it’s nice of you to help today.”
“Like I said, I owe him. He even got a bunch of my friends work. Vesper closing down left a lot of people in the lurch.”
The club where I’d met Jimmy. Disappointment weighted me. I would have loved to revisit Vesper with him, explain how a mysterious power outage had propelled me to fulfill my wish. I may have questioned the wisp of magic I’d felt that night, but I couldn’t deny it now. I mean, here I was, the day I’d paid my tuition, finally ready to forgive Jimmy and move forward.
Ready for love.
This was the domino of happiness I’d hoped for.
“I can’t believe it closed.”
April rolled her eyes. “The place was a death trap. Blackouts every couple weeks. Electrical problems. They couldn’t afford to fix it.”
She excused herself to serve patrons, and I stared dumbly ahead.
Jimmy slid his hand across my waist. “You okay?”
I wasn’t sure. I’d waffled about the “magical” blackout on and off since my birthday, but the possibility of its legitimacy had led to that horrible butt shot. It had pushed me to enter the sommelier contest. It was why I’d enrolled in school. Believing the wish would knock the rest of my life in order had spurred me on, when all I ever really needed was to believe in myself.
Talk about being clueless. “I’m fine. Just surprised about the club. So…” I looked around, feeling lighter than I had in weeks. Magic hadn’t led me here. I’d led me here. “Where’s this mysterious blind tasting?”
He moved behind the table and placed one glass on the white tablecloth. With the same grace he’d displayed in the contest, he poured a mysterious white wine into the crystal—elegant movements for such a rough man. The alcohol swished and clung to the sides, its legs dripping downward. When my father had told me the alcohol bleed left on a glass was known as “legs,” I’d rolled my eyes, sure he was lying. Today their sexy drag left me breathless.
Mischief in his smirk, Jimmy pushed the glass toward me, along with a pen and piece of paper. “One wine. One taste. If you guess the name of the wine and the vineyard, you win. If you don’t, you lose. First you have to set the stakes. Write them down. I won’t look until it’s over.”
“Any limitations?”
“No.” Then his hand shot up. “Actually, one. It can’t involve Ainsley and her vicious forms of torture.”
I snickered. “Condition accepted.”
I swirled the glass, the light transforming the liquid from straw to gold. Offering forgiveness was easy, simple words spoken, acceptance to ease Jimmy’s mind. But actions spoke louder than words. Jimmy had explained what he’d done and why, offering so many apologies he was in danger of losing his Man Card. If I entered our second chance unsure, waiting for him to mess up again, neither of us would win. He’d acted like an asshole, he’d hurt me, and we still had much to discuss. A discussion that should come from a place of security, for both of us, which meant taking a risk.
A totally massive risk, but destiny, apparently, was mine to make.
Before I could reconsider, I wrote my stakes and folded the paper, edges matching up. I placed it aside, perpendicular to the table. I lined up the pen, too.
The second I let go, Jimmy nudged the pen askew.
I returned it. He nudged it again. I glared at him, and he winked.
“I’d like to change the wager,” I said.
He snatched the paper and pocketed it. “Not a chance.”
God, he was difficult. And cute, smiling like he was. Time to taste some wine.
Twenty-five
Jimmy
Rachel lifted the glass to her nose, and I could almost smell each teasing note. I wanted to get drunk on her heady scent. Standing this far was torture, every inch of my body craving a taste of her, a touch, an inch to savor. Anything. But I had more say.
She swished the wine around her mouth and swallowed, the length of her neck opening up as she tipped her head back. I stared, unabashed, taking in the necklace that dipped between her cleavage. Her leopard-print skirt was criminal, her mile-long legs smooth and perfect. Legs I’d rather have wrapped around my head.
Heat flooded my groin.
Another swirl of her glass. Another sip. Then a sly grin tipped up one corner of her mouth. “You didn’t think I’d recognize your family’s Windswept Chardonnay? What kind of novice do you take me for?”
“Maybe I was looking to lose.” Except I had no idea what I’d be losing. This was about handing Rachel control. I could apologize all I wanted, beg for another chance,
claim I’d never hurt her again, but if she didn’t believe me, we’d never work. Trust was paramount. So this was both of us tasting blind, feeling the other out. But if she ignored my Ainsley condition, I’d have to book a one-way ticket to Siberia. Fucking terrifying, that one.
Before I removed the paper from my pocket, I pulled the bottle in question from below the table and hid the label with my hand. “You guessed right, but we’ve rebranded it. We’re tweaking the recipe, too. That will develop in time, but the plan is to make it our flagship wine, grow the business around it.”
“Do I get to see this flashy new label?” She rubbed her hands together, eager. Clueless to what I’d done.
If I’d gone too far, if she wasn’t ready, there was a chance I’d scare her off, but I still had to man up, put my heart on my sleeve. No bluffing about who I was or how I felt.
Swallowing hard, I revealed my masterpiece, and she sucked in her breath. We were at a charity function, people milling everywhere, but it was like the edges had faded into darkness, a spotlight separating us from the crowd.
“Is that what I think it is?” she asked.
I offered a tentative nod. “It’s you.”
She yanked the bottle from me and had that look about her, like she wanted to press it against her breasts and stare at it for weeks and assign it a permanent location in her alphabetized wine fridge. I rubbed the back of my neck, tension ebbing.
She ran her fingertips over the wine’s new name, Sunshine Chardonnay. A crude drawing of the pond we’d picnicked at filled the label. She blinked, and a tear slid down her cheek. Last time she cried, it was because I’d said unforgivable things. These tears made my heart squeeze in a different way.
“I can’t believe you did this,” she whispered.
I wanted to round the table and kiss her tears away, but it wasn’t time yet. “I plan to do much more for you.” I jutted my chin toward the bottle. “Read the description.”
Lip tucked between her teeth, she flipped it over. Her chin trembled as she scanned the words. I didn’t need to read them. I’d written each one.
Sunshine is a ripe wine full of life. It may change, depending on the year and seasonal conditions, but it will always brighten your day. Nurtured with love, its hints of spice set it apart, its creamy mouthfeel decadent, every nuance a taste to savor. And Sunshine’s legs are a thing of beauty. Our flagship Chardonnay is an expression of who we want to be.
Shaking her head, she wiped at her eyes. “You made my mascara run.”
“Sorry?”
“Don’t apologize.”
“Not sorry?”
Exasperated, she crushed the bottle against her chest, going for the boob rub after all. “This is the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me. I have my own wine.”
“Yeah. Okay. But maybe save the full-body contact for later.” My dirty princess was drawing a crowd.
“Need I remind you that you’re supposed to be the wild one? Stop smothering me.”
I planted my hands on the table and leaned toward her. “I plan to smother you plenty. Later. For now, we have a wager to complete.”
Huffing out a playful breath, she clutched the bottle and crooked her finger, beckoning me to follow. I did, magnetically. I’d have trailed her to the ends of the Earth, if she asked. She led us to a quiet corner of the tent, behind a divider. The noise dulled, jazz tunes fading to swirling notes. She turned and pulled me against her.
“This is too much.” She clutched my tie, face pleading…for what?
“It’s not enough, Ray. One apology, a thousand, would never be enough, because you’re it for me. I need you to know I’m willing to build my world around you. You make me want to do better, be better. You’re my sunshine.”
I lifted the bottle from her hands and placed it on the ground. She didn’t release my tie, so the whole thing was awkward, my upper body twisting while I reached down. I chuckled, but my laugh faded once I had her in my arms. “I’m a passionate guy, which means I might make some bad choices from time to time. It also means I’ll love you fiercely. I’ll also grovel. Whatever it takes to make amends. I won’t bury things again. Consider it a hard lesson learned.” I lowered my lips until they ghosted over hers. “Will you forgive me?”
“I already did.”
“Say it again. Then I’ll apologize again. I’ll do it until I’ve erased all your doubts.”
Instead of answering, she tugged my tie, and our lips connected in our corner of the world. The back of her top dipped low. So low, I slipped my fingers inside. Skin as smooth as velvet greeted me.
Her mouth was eager against mine, and fuck, she tasted like apples and sunshine and lemonade. She tasted like Chardonnay and a future we’d build together. We moved against each other, mouths wet, tongues tangoing with sensual groans. I was hard already, my fancy jeans about to split a seam, but I pulled back, aching. I had to. Any longer and Rachel’s mother would never show her face in this crowd again.
Rachel flattened her hands on my chest. “Did I win?”
I blinked a few times until her meaning registered. “That’s up to you.” When she frowned, I went on, “Technically, you won. You knew it was an Offshoot Chardonnay, but since the name of the wine is different, you can claim a loophole.”
I didn’t know what wager she’d written, had no idea if winning or losing would bode well for us. This was me handing her control again. I was hers to keep or discard. I’d live with the fallout.
“Win,” she said, releasing my tie and smoothing it down. “I win. But you might not like my prize. So I offer you the same loophole. If it’s too much, you can shoot me down.”
Well, then. Curiosity nipping at me, I reached into my pocket and pulled out her neatly folded paper. She knotted her fingers in an anxious twirl.
Ready or not…
Her letters were straight and neat—typical Rachel—words that blockaded my throat and compressed my ribs. Words I hadn’t dared hope for.
“You mean it?” I asked.
“I do. I love you, Jimmy.”
I reread her chosen prizes:
If I win, we move in together. If you win, we move in together.
My heart damn near exploded. I wasn’t sure I deserved a woman like Rachel, but I’d spend a lifetime trying. I refolded the note and tucked it away. “I’m keeping this under lock and key. There’s no backing out now.”
“No loophole, then?”
“Are you kidding? It took me ages to get a sleepover. You’re stuck with me, Sunshine.”
“With Superglue,” came her reply. Then she said, “I got a piercing.”
Come a-fucking-gain? “Where?” I grabbed her hips, my grip a little too strong. A fucking piercing.
Her shy smile nearly split me in two. “I’ll show you later.”
Wound up and horny as hell, I kissed her hard, trying to figure out where I’d find that little piece of metal. Her nipple? Belly button? Lower? I growled into her mouth when two women walked by, horrified whispers shared. I could barely see straight.
I tugged Rachel toward the main room, her lips swollen and well-kissed, mine hungry for more. We could have taken off and finished what we started, but I wanted to see the look on her face when my bid won her mother’s commissioned painting. It would be the first piece of art hung in our place.
Under the framed quote I’d recently purchased:
“If you obey all the rules, you miss all the fun.” ~ Katharine Hepburn
Three Months Later
Rachel
“We should do this weekly.” My head was on Jimmy’s lap, our pond in front of us, birds singing above.
“Sorry, Sunshine. No dice.” He stretched like a cat. The sexiest feline I’d ever known. “This is a celebration, which means you’d have to enroll in a new program. Start a different career. Actually…that wouldn’t be a challenge for you.”
“Still a comedian.”
Shifting, he pulled me between his legs, my back to his chest. “I could even h
elp you come up with new ventures.”
I nuzzled closer. “Like what?”
“Since you have a Big Bird fetish, you could host those furry conventions. The ones where people dress up as fluffy toys and get it on.”
I rammed my elbow into his side. “Hilarious.”
Locking me tighter between his legs, he pushed his nose through my hair. His wet lips landed on my neck. “How about we stick to viticulture, then?”
“Sounds like a plan.” Especially if every aced test became a celebration with wine, cheese, and us fucking like rabbits under a blue sky. It had been quite a day.
He pressed a kiss to my jaw. “I’m proud of you.”
I was proud of me, too. Since my first class two months ago, I’d attacked my course load head-on—sitting front row, scribbling furious notes. I was ahead on readings and had upped mine and Jimmy’s tastings at home. I was going to rock my degree.
In this moment, though, all I wanted was Jimmy tangled around me like a grapevine, our special picnic spot quiet but for the frogs and insects and birds.
He stroked my legs leisurely. I leaned my head into his neck as the day slipped by, quiet conversation coming in waves. October sunshine danced on my skin.
“I forgot to tell you about your dad,” I said, grinning at the memory. Jimmy hummed in my ear. I went on, “When I saw my mom in San Fran last week, I met him at the gym. He was trying new equipment, and it was beyond hilarious.” The image of him standing in front of the chest press (not seated, as was normal), while trying to squeeze the pads together with his hands was classic.
“Put it up on YouTube next time.”
God, that would be mean…but hysterical. “He’d never trust me again.”
“He doesn’t know what YouTube is, so he’d be clueless. And that man worships you.”
“He grunts at me.”
“That’s high praise from George Giannopoulos. I’d have killed for a grunt in high school.”
A butterfly, yellow and black, flitted past us, nearly touching my knee. It hopped around, flying from place to place, as though it didn’t know where to land. How I used to feel. Untethered. Unsure where to anchor myself. Until Jimmy. I’d forgiven George and Alena their deception, earning another father from the deal, though he was challenging at times. More roots grounding me.
Legs (One Wild Wish, #1) Page 24
