Almost Lover

by Steph Campbell

  Her body is shaking, and she’s impossibly wet and tight around me.

  “Jordan,” I moan, thrusting harder, faster, lost in the way sweet smell of her skin, the lazy moans, the soft clasp of her arms around my body.

  But she’s too busy in her own ecstasy to pay any attention to mine, which is fine with me. I’m happy to see her completely Zen smile. I bury my face in her neck and feel my body shudder with such intense release, I’m not sure I’ll have the strength to move when I’m done.

  “That was… that was like a spiritual experience,” she moans after a few long seconds.

  I laugh as I sit up and remove the condom, eager to get back into the bed with her.

  “Spiritual, huh?” I tug her close to me, press her sweat-damp hair off her face and neck. “So you’re basically saying I’m a god?”

  She presses her forehead into my shoulder and laughs. The sex was unbelievable, but just holding her like this is even better.

  “Can we do it again?” she asks, biting her lip. “Now?”

  “You’re gonna give me a heart attack, woman.” I kiss the tip of her nose and she cocks an eyebrow.

  “That’s a pretty lame excuse coming from a god.” She snuggles into my arms, her red hair spilled all over my chest. Her fingers trace over my skin. “Enzo?”

  “Yeah?” I run a hand over her hair, loving how silky smooth it is under my fingers.

  “What do we do when we go back to Golden Leaf?” she asks.

  I know what she means, but I’m not ready to shine the harsh light of reality on the beautiful moment we just shared. Not yet at least.

  “Well, there’s my apartment. I think your room might be risky. Apparently you’re good with back seats, though I think they’re a tiny bit cramped. Maybe I can get a nice pickup truck? Six foot bench seats? A big ole bed in the back to get into trouble in…”

  She doesn’t laugh. “Will we tell everyone?”

  I go still.

  “I want to be with you,” I say slowly. “I want everyone to know you and I are together. But I feel like we’re starting this all off on a lie.”

  “Enzo, people who work together keep a tight lid on things before they announce their relationship all the time. I mean, we needed to know if this was real or not—”

  “That’s not what I’m talking about, Jordan.” She rolls onto her stomach, and I try to ignore how aroused I am by her body pressing on mine the way it is. Her golden-red hair falls over her shoulder, and her big eyes zero in on me.

  “What then?” But I can tell from the set of her mouth she knows.

  “I don’t want to be your slacker boyfriend. I don’t want to be the guy you let skate by because we’re sleeping together.” I reach for her when she tries to roll away. I think it’s a good sign she lets me grab her and haul her back into my arms. “Hey, hey, c’mon. You asked. I’m telling you.”

  “But you’re making it this whole thing,” she says, shaking her head. “Okay, maybe you didn’t have the skills at first, but you’re learning new things every single day. You’re working harder than anyone else at that vineyard, me included!” Her voice trembles.

  “Don’t,” I warn. She snaps her mouth shut and I sit up, taking her by the shoulders. “Don’t you dare sell yourself short to me, Jordan. I agree. I’m learning. Every day. But it would take me years to gain the experience and education you have. The problem is, I’m not learning enough fast enough because you cover for me. You do the work and give me the credit. Sure, I make a good observation here or there, but it’s mostly based on what you tell me, what you teach me. If we keep doing this, it’s just going to get worse.”

  “Why would you say that?” she demands, clutching the sheet. “I’m happy to teach you!”

  “You don’t have the time to teach me what I need to know to deserve the title I hold,” I say as calmly as I can. It doesn’t stop her chin from wobbling. Oh, god, please don’t let her cry. “Doll, the vineyard is doing better and better, getting busier every week. The learning curve is going to be immense, and, instead of moving ahead and conquering new tasks, you’ll be left covering for me so I don’t look like a fool when people expect me to be able to do the job I’m not qualified to do.”

  “Do you want to take the position at Angelino’s?” she asks, point blank.

  I want to tell her ‘no,’ but I’m afraid to let her think I’m going to back down on this. I know how stubborn Jordan can be, and I don’t want her to insist I stay at Golden Leaf when doing so drags her down.

  “I’m not sure.”

  All the blood drains from her face. “Okay. There are a lot of things to think about. You’d have a great position and they’d want to train you based on their vineyard policies, so you could catch up. Plus they have so many staffers who could devote time to mentoring you. And, of course, you’d be near your family. It makes sense.”

  She speaks clearly, logically, while silent tears course down her cheeks.

  I take her hands in mine, because I can’t play this game with her. I can’t pretend I’d ever walk out on her, even if it might convince her to change things for the better. For herself.

  I wipe the tears off her face with my thumb. “Who am I kidding, Jordan?” She looks up and I kiss her lips, salty from her tears. “I can’t walk away from you. I’m willing to fight this out, make it work. But we need to figure out how to drop the lies.”

  I get nervous as soon as I see the huge smile on her face.

  “Of course. We’ll have to give it a little time, Enzo. But I’ll figure it out. I’ll make it work.” She kisses me, and I wished I believed her.

  Deep down, I know Jordan Caletti believes in me too much for her own good. What she’ll probably do is go out of her way to take me through things, step by step. She’ll wear herself out making sure I don’t get caught with my pants down, and she’ll keep heaping the praise for things she did on me. She’ll just get better at hiding it from me.

  I want to lay this out, but she’s in my arms, kissing me, her body hot and ready on mine, and I decide to let it go.

  Maybe I’m wrong. Maybe Jordan will put herself first for once, and I’ll live, grit my teeth and accept the humiliating demotion I deserve. Because I’ll do anything for her, anything to make sure this works.

  Her body presses hot and tight against mine, and, before I know it, we’re locked together, her sweet mouth whispering things she wants, perfect, naughty things that drive me crazy.

  I can’t lose this girl.

  Because I realize that I’ve fallen for her. This is love, this is real, and I can’t screw it up.

  I won’t. I’ll figure out how to love her and keep us both from having to lie.

  But, tonight, all I need is the sound of her moaning my name and the curl of her body against mine after we exhaust each other over and over all night long.

  “You look happy,” Mother says from my bedroom doorway. She seldom ever comes to this part of the house. Her bedroom is on the opposite side and she prefers to stay there, where her office and her cold, cave-like bedroom are.

  I hug the t-shirt I’m folding and nod. “I am.”

  Mom takes a few steps into my bedroom and does a quick scan, looking around disapprovingly at what I don’t know. Could be anything from my choice of paint color to the rug on the floor. Her formal taste has never matched more casual style. Except today.

  She’s not in her usual pencil skirt, button-up blouse, and jacket. They’ve been replaced with jeans and a simple shirt.

  What in the world?

  I want to comment on it, but that would only stir the pot with Mom. She’ll take anything I notice or mention as a personal attack, no matter how innocent. Still, it’s unusual enough that I wonder if someone has died. If she’s maybe sunk into a deep depression. Something.

  “We’ve got a problem,” Mom says in her usual clipped way.

  I swallow hard. What the hell could it be? I’ve been waiting for someone on staff to notice the way Enzo and I sneak off to
gether. Mom to wake and find me gone in the middle of the night. Something that’ll ruin everything.

  “We do?”

  “Starlings.”

  “Starlings!” I don’t mean to sound so relieved. Starlings are never a good thing for a vineyard, but compared to what I was imagining?

  “They’re out of control this season,” Mom continues. “The foil tape isn’t doing the trick this time. They’re still hanging around. Jack says if we don’t get it under control we could lose a half-ton of crop by the end of the season. That’s unacceptable. We should have already been on top of this before it got so bad.”

  Mom is exaggerating. If it really were as bad as she’s making it out to be, Enzo or I would have caught it and taken care of it already. Still it’s a weird relief that her ice queen demeanor is intact. It lets me know she’s okay. For the most part at least.

  “Okay.” I walk through the best version procedure for this and think it through out loud. “We can try one of the ultrasonic devices to keep them out, or even bird netting. I know that can be pricey, but we had a vendor come through a couple of weeks ago and he said if we wanted to try the netting out in a small area first before committing to buy it for the entire crop we could go that route. I’ll get that set up right away.”

  “Don’t you want to check with Enzo first before you make a decision?” She presses her eyebrows together, making the worry line on her forehead pop out.

  “I think I can handle a simple pest problem, Mom.”

  “But he may have a better contact,” she insists.

  “I’m sure my guy is perfectly capable,” I say through gritted teeth.

  “What if he’s dealt with this problem before? We may need to check with him first is all I’m saying. There’s nothing wrong with checking with Enzo before making the tough calls.”

  “Mom!” I snap. I don’t know why her questioning my authority bothers me so much today, since she’s been doing it for years, and I’ve silently dealt with it the entire time. Sucked it up. Brushed it off. “Enzo may not always be around to ask. I can deal with things, too.”

  My mother narrows her eyes. “What do you mean he won’t always be around.”

  I press the heels of my hands to my eyes and wish I could rewind thirty seconds, before I let the words tumble out of my mouth.

  “I just mean that you can count on me, too.”

  “Jordan, where were you two weeks ago? When you were away overnight?” Her tone is more than accusatory.

  I’d left the details of the trip with Enzo very vague when it came to telling my mother. I told her I was going to meet with some new vendors and felt better having Enzo come along in case they were in a bad area. We didn’t originally plan on staying the night is all. But things happen.

  Oh, did things happen.

  “I told you all about that trip,” I say, the irritation mounting.

  “I know what you told me some story, but now I want the truth.” She raises her eyebrows at me. “The real reason you stayed the night on that trip.”

  “Are you checking up on me, Mom? I’m a little old for that, don’t you think?”

  I pluck another shirt from the laundry basket and try to fold it, but it’s hard when my mom has her laser eyes trained on my every movement. I’m old enough now that I shouldn’t have to answer for this. I shouldn’t have to feel guilty. Hell, I probably shouldn’t even still live in my mother’s home.

  “You’re not too old to offer an answer when your mother asks you a direct question.” She crosses her arms.

  “Meetings ran over, so I stayed the night,” I say with a shake of my head.

  “What meetings, Jordan?” She reaches over and snatches the shirt right out of my hand, forcing me to make eye contact. “Something is going on that you’re keeping from me, and you owe me an explanation.”

  “Fine,” I say, meeting her furious eyes. “Enzo and I took a trip down to Southern California to visit his family for the day.”

  “You met his family?” My mom rears her head back. I figured this would be the less shocking piece of information to divulge, rather than clueing her in about his interview. “Why in the world would you do that?”

  Because I’m ridiculously in love with him.

  “Because we’re…friends,” I stammer. “He’s very close to his family.”

  “You’re coworkers, Jordan,” she reminds me sternly. “You need to be very careful there. And I don’t appreciate being misled, that was very childish of you.”

  “I’m sorry,” I say, but I’m not. If I didn’t know better, I’d accuse my mom of holding something back as well. She’s being strange for sure, like she knows something and is trying to strong arm it out of me. Maybe she does know more than she lets on. Maybe she has figured out some of my secrets. There are certainly a few things I am trying so hard to keep close, but I’m not sure I’m doing that good a job.

  She sighs, then leans down and fluffs her hair in the mirror of my vanity.

  “Your father was right, I think,” she mutters.

  “What are you talking about?” I ask.

  “I talked with your dad yesterday…he called looking for you, wanted to take you to lunch I think.”

  “We just spoke, I’m meeting him in an hour,” I say slowly, staring at her face. She’s smiling a little. For the first time in so long she looks…happy. Is it because she talked to Dad? Happy, Dad, and Mom have been three words that haven’t made sense together for a long time. “What was he right about?”

  “That there’s something more going on with you.” She wags her finger my direction as she stares at me. Through me? It’s not possible, but it feels like she can focus right into my brain when she wants. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

  “Mom, I’m fine,” I move toward my closet and pull the doors open. “I need to get dressed for lunch, though. And I’ll make sure to get in touch with the pest guy as soon as possible.”

  The weather is gorgeous today, not quite as warm as it was in Southern California when Enzo and I visited, but it’s the perfect day for a sundress and cute cardigan. Dad and I eat lunch on the patio at the country club he belongs to. The home he and Jennifer own is on the grounds here as well, but, thankfully, he didn’t bring my new stepmother to this lunch date.

  “You look nice,” he says, reaching a hand out to rub mine across the table. “Haven’t seen you much lately, kiddo.”

  I stab at my Caesar salad, wondering how it is both my parents watch me run Golden Leaf but still somehow see me as a child. “Well, you’ve been busy being a newlywed, and I’ve been busy working my butt off at Golden Leaf.”

  “I know.” He leans back and nods with approval. “Your mom told me about the huge changes over there. Sounds great, Jordan. I know she’s very proud of you.”

  I pause before stuffing a bite of lettuce in my mouth. I raise one eyebrow and say, “You and mom sure have a lot to talk about lately.”

  Dad chuckles and shrugs, his shoulders broad in his navy polo shirt. I guess the honeymoon really is over, since he’s not wearing the hideous teals and oranges Jennifer insisted complimented his skin tone. She said dark colors made my dad look ‘worn.’ I say better ‘worn’ than ‘ridiculous.’

  “You’re our daughter, Jordan. No matter how old you get, we still talk about you, and worry about you…”

  “What’s there to worry about?” I put down my fork and train my eyes on him. If Mom isn’t going to crack, maybe I’ll be able to figure out exactly what they know by grilling Dad.

  My father blots his mouth with his napkin. “I heard you left town.”

  Oh, Christ on a bicycle.

  “For one night, Dad!” I cry, wondering why I’m stuck explaining myself again. “What’d you do last night?”

  I’m just asking to prove a point, but his face goes a deep purple-red.

  “That’s hardly the same, Jordan.”

  “I guess I just don’t understand why everyone is so interested in what I do with my free time
. I’m an adult. I had a day off to do with as I chose. I chose to go with a friend to visit his family.”

  “And that’s all it was?” Dad presses.

  For the first time, I’m actually a little scared. Scared he’s put pieces together and unraveled everything. What if Mom mentioned Enzo’s name and Dad remembered him from the wedding? What if he told her all about how Enzo was fired from his labor job? What if they both know I’ve been parading him around the last few months, pretending he’s something he’s not?

  Except that he isn’t just some fake skating by. He’s worth a lot more than I gave him credit for initially, and I’ve thoroughly enjoyed the ways he’s shocked me and proved me wrong. Sure I gave him tips and padded his resume, but Enzo is a hard worker with a great mind and a sincere passion. All he needed was a chance.

  Was mom trying to get me to admit to it this morning, and since that didn’t work, Dad is giving it a shot? God, I wish my family was direct, even the face of discomfort. All this beating around the bush sucks.

  “Just say what you want to say, Dad.”

  “I have a friend who spends a lot of time at the airport. He’s my neighbor actually, Glen Pearson. Flies commuter planes for some rich folks. Saw him on the golf course yesterday and he mentioned that he flew a young man and a girl down to Temecula for a little VIP treatment at one of the vineyards. Said the pretty girl he flew down South had the same last name as me.”

  Shit.

  “It’s not what you think, Dad.” Enzo and I were tangled up in the sheets at that hoity place, but God, I’d rather shove this fork in my eye than admit that to my father.

  “Really?” Dad raises one incredulous eyebrow, and my heart sinks. “The way he told it, the two kids were having such a fine time, they stayed overnight together.”

  “We were just tired. We went to see his family and stayed longer than expected—”

  “I don’t need to know the details of your private life, Jordan, but flying off with some stranger—”

  “He’s not a stranger.”

  “Shacking up in some hotel with him for the night—”

  “I told you, it’s not like that.”