Heart Nectar

by Davee Jones

  Think, George, think…there’s got to be some way to reach her. A simple text or phone call wouldn’t cut it. She needed to see his sincerity face to face, get some answers to what was happening. Pulling up to the Heart Nectar vineyard, he slowed the car to a crawl, noticing at the same time he was the only person there. Hope sank, so much for thinking Mindie could be magically in the place where they’d shared their first kiss.

  Her lips had been soft, tasting faintly of something sweet, probably from the bakery breakfast. Innocence mingled with pent up passion behind her hesitance. Yet, he felt her respond and knew the heat wasn’t one sided. Sometimes, you just know, there’s no explanation for when attraction wraps around your heart, bringing a feeling of warmth and home. From the first time they shared space, his soul comforted in her presence. The disturbance of his life calmed into something acceptable, something manageable. He wanted to enjoy being, rather than fight for every breath. His hands had been balled into fists practically since the womb, and he suspected Charles had something to do with that. The unexplained twin phenomenon of connections wasn’t always pleasant. When George met Mindie, those same fingers relaxed into gentle extensions of his heart, only wanting to graze her cheek or coax the hair back behind her ear.

  Sidled with Charles his entire existence had been nothing but a struggle. Somewhere between the spaces of creation, Charles failed to develop critical human characteristics such as regret, remorse, empathy, compassion, or kindness. In the places of everything good and virtuous, his brother fostered contempt, greed, envy, hate, and the intense desire to hurt others. Born a sociopath, Charles knew no other way than to create or inflict hurt, the deepest pain imaginable before satisfied. Definitely creating a ruthless businessman, successful in most every endeavor because the only thing he didn’t destroy was the ability to profit from his actions.

  He was craftily intelligent.

  Their family gave up the idea Charles would ever become a valuable member of human existence for anything other than the dollar. Begrudgingly, George accepted the inevitable, the one person slated closer to him than anyone else would always be a modern day monster. The brothers maintained an unspoken agreement for personal space and a hybrid respect, as Charles would never embrace the true meaning of respect, much less live by the action.

  Slogging everyday up a river of mud became George’s lot in life. Putting out fires with gasoline became more than a joke or a social media tagline. George learned that most people would eat shit from Charles’ decisions, it was up to him to convince folks to enjoy it like a sirloin steak.

  The prick crossed the line when he hurt Mindie. She didn’t deserve anything seedy, especially from Charles. George suspected Charles only toyed with Mindie out of jealousy. George found someone Charles couldn’t buy, control, or maneuver. Dropped into their drama when George became interested, Mindie became a victim. George knew the day would come, and he pursued her anyway. He thought he could protect her. Why the hell he thought Charles would leave well enough alone for a business deal was the most ridiculous assumption George had in a long time.

  In the history of the opposite sex, girls were always in season. Dating was an incessant rivalry of headboard notches. Realizing girls became an unwitting pawn, George backed off relationships. No woman ever deserved the screwed up games Charles put them in. He knew the day would come when he’d step up and put his ruthless brother in his place.

  Staring into the expectations of future vintages, the young vines stretched to the sun, reaching for growth, the same way Mindie rejuvenated his childlike eagerness. Suddenly, his phone startled him with the familiar pop sound of a champagne cork, sending him a notification. The noise periodically advertised the phone application he developed several months prior. His mood lifted, an idea created hope for the day.

  He had an app on his phone for wineries. This particular app tracked who checked in to their location, even if the person didn’t actively check in. If the user enabled the application, when they were in proximity of an included location, the app would automatically track their arrival. George could review every arrival at every site enrolled in the app, he could see who was physically in their locality. Now, if only Mindie was an enrollee, he could possibly find her.

  He needed to find her. Scrambling, he reviewed all the locations listed on the app. Until, yes, there she was, by the grace of Cupid, she was listed in the app. She hadn’t disabled the feature.

  He was on his way.

  ****

  A full bottle of wine was Mindie’s dinner. Swirling from the effects of the wine, she stumbled toward the door of the small wine bar. She required her room, where she could lie down and hopefully sleep. Speaking to the bartender, she turned his direction, waving before she walked away. “Thank you for suggesting such a nice red. I’ll be back tomorrow.”

  “Yes, ma’am, it was my pleasure.”

  Turning once again toward the door, she ran smack straight into George Stansfield. “What the fuck? How did you find me?” Only stalkers with tracking systems knew how to track someone to their exact location. “Did Nixie tell you where I was?”

  “No, she didn’t betray your trust. I cheated a bit and looked you up in the wine app.”

  Mother of pearl, she forgot about that damn phone application. “You’re really desperate and I’m really stupid.”

  “I needed to make sure you were alright.”

  “I’m fine…just filled up on wine. See, I made a rhyme.” Swaying side to side like a willow in a breeze, Mindie appeared just as wobbly.

  “Let’s go sit outside and get some air. It’ll do you good.”

  “What you do know from good? You’re a man after all.” Snippy, Mindie regressed to a teenager again. Spiteful and angry, she attempted to push George away. “Just leave me alone.”

  The bartender chimed in. “Are you okay, Miss? Do you need some assistance?” Dropping the tavern towel on the bar, he cracked the knuckles on his hands.

  “Oh, no, I can handle this. Please just ignore us. He’s a friend of sorts.”

  “Let me know if you need help. We don’t take kindly to bullying around here.”

  “I appreciate that.” Not wanting George involved in any real trouble, through her haze, Mindie made a frustrating decision. “Okay, let’s go outside to talk.”

  The night air contained the warmth of the sunny day preceding it. The stars twinkled against a blue-black sky, the colors blending from the many shadows and lights of the cosmos. An earthy scent filled the air, pungent from the many rows of grapes. The back patio contained vegetables and fruits blooming from spots in containers and in the ground. The comforting setting did little to ease Mindie’s apprehension. After all, she tried to plan a short getaway from everyone.

  He opened their dialogue with something deep. “You’re one giant leap for me in a world full of small steps. I can’t explain how I already feel so deeply for you. Things like this don’t happen often. Our situation is a gift.”

  There’s no way she could ignore such a plea. He was as genuine as Charles was deceitful. Not cut from the same cloth, only sharing a few threads of DNA didn’t make this man the same conniving scum who’d invaded her home and body with such treachery. George exuded sorrow for actions he hadn’t even taken. Her fingers yearned to touch his hair, pulling him in closely, as if she’d never get another chance. “The moon is romanticizing your words.”

  “Don’t blame anything on this setting, although it’s perfect.” The secluded winery nestled securely among vines much older than her twenty-something years on the planet. The antique atmosphere delighted a girlish sense of love sustained by the safety of countless others who’d shared the same gardens. Treading the same paths as thoughtful dreamers gave Mindie permission to believe- to believe in all his eloquent words.

  “Aren’t you angry with me, at least a little bit?”

  “How could I be angry when he clearly tricked you? Our own mother was duped several times by his theatrics. Unfortunately, h
e learned at an early age to take advantage instead of being noble. I started feeling regret in his place when I realized he would never have the capability. It’s hurtful that he isn’t even bothered by such trivial human conditions as feelings, emotions, or empathy. He broke my heart before I even knew of the love from a woman.”

  “I still should’ve known it wasn’t you. Perhaps, I was wishful thinking, which still isn’t an excuse.” How could she voice aloud her shortcomings of rational thought when she could barely think with all the alcohol crawling through her bloodstream? Basically, she admitted the possibility she mistook the man standing in front of her, without really knowing for sure.

  “No, I’ll never believe that. You had no idea, he tricked you. It’s his fault, not yours.”

  “I wish it was that simple. I really think it’s best we don’t see each other, at least romantically. I don’t see how it could work.” She really wanted to lie down, stop the world from spinning. The Stansfield boys knocked her off an axis she might never balance again.

  ****

  Never had anything made his heart so grim. Could she really turn away, never seeing him again? George had to convince her otherwise. "You are a woman who feels deeply. You aren't skeptical, logical, or doubtful, instead you fight for the possibilities. I'd rather have someone like you in my life, then anyone without a sense of fantasy. Until now, I'd never really wanted to take the time to stop Charles. I'd always accepted him for the asshole he was.” His voice lowered, cracking in desperation. “Now that he hurt you, I couldn't stand for it to go on another day."

  The darkness shadowed on Mindie’s minor facial expressions. Yet, he could see everything from her soul. They should put everything behind them where the negative belonged.

  "Unfortunately, I believe everything you say. The tone of your voice is way more meaningful than the words you're saying." Wringing her hands, Mindie chewed her lip, revealing her anxiety.

  Consequently, the more she revealed hidden insecurity, George became heated, the long-standing instinct to sweep her up and make her his simmered just beneath his skin. "I want another chance to kiss you. Will you wait to make up your mind until then?" He knew she'd come alive just as much as he did. When their mouth met the first time she tasted just as he'd imagined, an all-consuming combination of joy and passion, tinged with the sweetness of delicious bakery frosting.

  Taking a small step backward, Mindie's hesitance almost made George gasp. Wrapping her arms around her body, she retained a protective, defensive stance. Lifting her chin, Mindie still shivered, challenging his power. Valiantly, she mustered strength neither one of them apparently had. "Maybe I've had enough kissing men for a while. It always seems to get me in trouble."

  "We can make it a good trouble." Slowly, with smaller steps than usual, George inched his way toward her quivering body. "I won't do anything you don't want. I'm not the kind to intimidate anyone into my wishes." Reaching forth his left hand, he ran a finger along one of her arms. Goosebumps quickly trailed behind his touch. Standing stock still, Mindie averted her gaze away from his probing eyes. Suddenly, she noticed it. Not even the darkness could hide what the moonlight brightly illuminated. Why hadn't she noticed it before?

  What happened there?" Her knee-jerk reaction fingertips reached out and gently trailed along the raised edges.

  "The one thing I can't get rid of. This scar will be with me for life."

  "What happened?"

  In previous years George wore the scar as a badge of honor, a conversation starter especially for pretty women. The nurturing instinct of soothing the wound help George score plenty of times. He'd always had enough money for cosmetic surgery, but the wound uniquely set him apart from Charles. Where Charles used his looks and charm, George jumped into all different kinds of sports, hobbies, and activities meeting adventurous people just like himself. "I gotta say, no matter how weird it sounds, if I’m having a shitty day, I can look at this and sometimes it’ll make me smile. Have you ever seen the phrase a bad day fishing is better than a good day at work?”

  “You got that scar fishing?”

  Laughing, George shook his head. “Nah, I was surfing, took a tumble, and ended up with a reef cut. It hurt like hell and seemed to take forever to heal."

  "A bad day surfing was better than a day at your office, then?”

  “Absolutely, even though one bad day turned into several weeks from the bacteria in the wound.” Taking chances was the only way George knew how to live, regardless of the consequences. The reef cut filled with spores and bacteria from the coral and the microorganisms living on the sharp underwater surfaces. His healing time gave him plenty of opportunity to evaluate how far he actually wanted to go for a good time.

  “You are definitely full of surprises and I'm not sure I've known anyone quite as diverse as you."

  "When I was younger I lived hard and played hard. I never hurt anyone else during my good times. Charles did enough of that. I knew I could be edgy and exciting without compromising my integrity. Now I made the transition to work hard. Wine is interesting, so I can have a little bit of fun mixed in with the seriousness." He moved even closer to Mindie, bridging an already narrow gap. “Wine is how I met you too. I’m really thankful for my job.”

  "You're not gonna find any surfing in Iowa. We've for sure got some good things going on in this state, but not as much as you're used to doing." Intent on the negative, Mindie outlined reasons he’d bore quickly.

  "I didn't have to live where I surfed, or did most anything else. I visited places when I wanted to experience their particular charms. Iowa does have airports you know?"

  “I suppose so.” Tumbling words, more like enunciating mumbles, bounced from her lips. Reminiscent of a petulant child, Mindie wasn’t getting her way in this discussion.

  “I’m not asking you to change everything for me, I’m asking for a chance to get to know you.

  Discussing his life, his past, gradually diminished the persistent wall Mindie directed around herself. “Maybe I should get a closer look at your dent?” Jokingly referring to his injury, Mindie lightened her mood.

  “Can I kiss you now?”

  Somehow, seeing the scar comforted Mindie. She had a definitive way to distinguish the brothers, even when Charles pulled out his best moves. Replicating the jagged scar would be a miracle. A miracle Mindie would replicate in her mind, every edge and turn. Passion ignited where fear once pooled. “Yes, you may kiss me now.”

  “You are squirming around like you have ants in your pants.” George laughed. “Are you still doubtful?”

  “Hell no.”

  “I’m gonna kiss you, here I come, okay?” George leaned in her direction.

  Mindie licked her lips and watched his mouth near hers. She closed her eyes and gave in to the impulse. When they connected, the jolt went through her tummy and sent shock waves to her heating core. She wrapped her arms around him and boldly stuck her tongue in this mouth. He sucked it further in and released with a gentle sucking noise. “I could do this all night.”

  “Mmm, this is so nice.”

  “Calms your nerves too, doesn’t it?”

  “Shut up and kiss me again.” George obliged and ran his hand across her shirt, brushing her perky nipples straining through their confinement. “I’m taking a liberty.”

  “I’m letting you.” Mindie moaned and arched her breasts toward him. The atmosphere, overabundance of wine, and her unreasonable attraction to George overwhelmed Mindie’s decision-making.

  “Maybe we should take this to your room as well.” George nuzzled her neck with seeking lips.

  “I think we should.”

  Briskly, they walked, holding hands, until they reached Mindie’s room. There was no turning back for either of them. Of course, Mindie had more to lose. Unlocking the door, she pushed it open, looking hesitantly inside.

  “I don’t think anyone is in here. You aren’t going to find your mom or the make-out police.” George ran his fingers through the
hair falling down her back. “Your hair is so soft and silky.”

  “Aww, to hell with it.” Mindie pulled him into the room, shutting the door loudly.

  George kissed her again, his lips full against her mouth, tracking his tongue around her lips before he dipped back in again, linking their tongues. Mindie responded, pulling him closer into her body. The restrained desires finally taking over their movements. On auto-pilot, her body decided what her mind should agree to do. Dropping to the sofa, their kiss never broke as he followed her down. Mindie put her hands on his cheeks, urging his face toward her chest.

  Pulling back, he kept his arms wrapped around her. “We can stop. I want you to be good with what we do.”

  The wine helped removed some of Mindie’s inhibitions. Their chemistry removed whatever inhibition remained. “I’ll worry about the consequence of my actions tomorrow.”

  “Miss Scarlet O’Hara, I’ll be damned. One of my favorite movies, just don’t tell anyone.” Grinning, George leaned in, blowing hot air against the fabric of her thin shirt, teasing her. Mindie reached down, grabbed the hem of her top, pulled it over her head and tossed it to the floor. She unhooked her bra and her young, pert breasts released, heaving from her breaths. Her nipples pointed and beckoned to George, and he sucked greedily. He licked the creamy flesh and lapped across her areolas, now firmly tightened. “I love your breasts, Mindie. You smell so good. I could do this forever.”

  Mindie enjoyed his love-making across her breasts, leaning back on the couch. Running her fingers through his hair, she brazenly pulled him, urging his mouth forward. She’d had few experiences in her life to match the intensity of his private treatment. Truth be told, Mindie hadn’t gone much past kissing the few men in her life she’d dated.