Tasting Notes

by Cate Ashwood

  He had two options. The first was he could pretend nothing happened and move on with their relationship the way it had been going: completely platonic—a business arrangement.

  Or he could man up and admit he liked the chemistry between them. He had no idea how long he was going to be in town, and hell, he had no idea what Rush was thinking, but he’d never had sex that good, and he’d be a fucking idiot if he were to give it up voluntarily.

  He finished washing and then stepped out of the shower, wrapped a large towel around himself, and padded back to the bedroom. He didn’t need to make a big deal about it. They didn’t even really need to have a conversation about it. Rush seemed more than happy to take the lead in bed, so for the first time in a long time, West would defer to someone else. He would follow Rush’s lead and hope that led to more sex.

  The bedroom was empty when West walked back in, so he grabbed some clothes and dressed quickly. Rush was already dressed and was waiting in the kitchen with Casper.

  “Have you had breakfast?” he asked, taking a large bite of a bagel slathered with cream cheese. He was leaning against the counter, his stance relaxed as he chewed. West couldn’t help but think Rush belonged there. He shook the thought from his mind.

  “Yeah, a while before you came.”

  “Good. You all ready to get started with our day, then?”

  “Sure, just let me grab a coffee first,” West replied. If he didn’t still feel the twinge from where Rush had been a few minutes earlier, he could have sworn it never happened. “You know, Rosie was only here because she couldn’t drive home last night.”

  “You don’t have to explain anything to me,” Rush said, dismissively.

  West walked over and began the process. His espresso machine had arrived the day before, and he was so thankful. Drip coffee was the worst. He worked as quickly as he could. He wasn’t used to having to do this himself, and even after watching an instructional video, West still wasn’t certain about all the features and functions of the elaborate machine.

  “What the fuck are you doing?” Rush asked, crowding into West’s space a moment later.

  “Making coffee.”

  “That is not coffee,” he said sardonically. “That is an abomination.”

  West shot him an unimpressed look. “I don’t like regular coffee. I like this.”

  “Whatever you say, Princess. Get a move on.”

  Two hours later, they had walked the perimeter of the property, checking the fences to make sure there were no holes where deer could get through. When they finished that, they walked the rows of vines, ensuring there were no objects large enough to create a problem for the mower, before they ended up back in the barn with the equipment. Rush was in the process of showing West how to use the John Deere.

  “It’s like a normal vehicle,” he instructed. “Disengage the clutch and shift into neutral… perfect, just like that.”

  The words echoed Rush’s words from earlier. Just like that. But this time West was handling a different kind of shift stick. He much preferred the first.

  “West?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You going to pay attention? I’m not going to show up here every week to hold your hand through mowing your lawn. One day of instruction on this and I’m out, yeah?”

  “Yeah. I’ll be fine.”

  “Good. So like I was saying, now that you’re in neutral, you can start up the engine.”

  West did as he was told, and the mower rumbled to life beneath him.

  “Next you’re going to want to adjust the cutting point, since you’re going to be working with uneven ground. You’re probably safe around six or seven.”

  West nodded and tried to move the handle in the direction Rush described, but when he did, nothing happened. “It won’t move.”

  “You need to give it a little shove and it’ll slide right where you want it to be.”

  West tried his hardest to keep his mind out of the gutter, but considering the shoving that took place earlier that morning, it was difficult to ignore the would-be suggestive language. “It’s stuck,” he said.

  Rush let out an exasperated sigh. “Move up,” he said as he stepped up and swung his leg over, effectively sliding in behind West. His thighs bracketed West’s hips, and it took everything he had not to lean into the warmth of Rush’s body.

  Rush reached around him and, with a forceful push, moved the lever into place. “Now shift into gear, and you should be good to go.”

  West wasn’t sure, but he thought Rush’s voice sounded rougher than it had a few minutes ago. And he wasn’t moving. They sat together, time stretching out between them until Rush dismounted from the mower, but not before he ran his hand along West’s stomach, steadying himself as he climbed down. West’s abdomen contracted at the touch. He wanted to reach out and push Rush’s hand lower to where his cock was standing at attention once more. West hadn’t been this horny since he was seventeen and fucking around with his first real boyfriend every chance he got. Every time Rush moved close to him, he felt the same rush of hormones he experienced all those years ago.

  By the end of the day, West felt as though his nerves were frayed beyond repair. They mowed and tilled the soil, which was quicker than West thought it would be. When they were done with that, Rush began teaching him how to thin the shoots. The vines grew vigorously due to the rootstock, the good soil fertility, and the favorable climate of the area, so the task seemed monumental. Initially, it seemed like it would be tedious and time-consuming, but as it turned out, it was so much worse than that.

  Rush seemed to get off on teasing West. Touches and suggestive language dropped here and there throughout their conversation. A few hours in and West was in need of an ice-cold shower, just to keep his clothes from melting off his body. Judging by the smirk Rush wore, he knew what he was doing too, which pissed West off.

  He was trying his best to concentrate. Examining the leaves and branches for signs of disease was an important part of the process, but he caught himself staring off into space, or worse, staring off at Rush rather than focusing on what he was supposed to be doing. Maybe buying a vineyard really was the worst decision he ever made. It would be just his luck that his only spur of the moment investment would go belly up in less than a year because he hadn’t noticed the yellow leaves that indicated a fungal infection.

  Hours later and the two men had barely completed a quarter of the upper vineyard. West was suddenly relieved the entire property wasn’t planted. He was sore in all the wrong places this time and getting cranky. He wasn’t meant to be stooped over, working with his hands in an open field. He did better behind a desk in a climate-controlled office where his doting secretary brought him the frothy lattés he liked.

  He was man enough to admit the ones he made at home were dangerously subpar compared to the ones Scarlet procured from his favorite coffee place back home.

  “Are we almost done?” West asked, fully aware he sounded like a whiny kid.

  “We can finish up for the day if you’re getting sore. It’s a lot to tackle all at once, but we got quite a bit of ground covered today.”

  That was surprising. He expected Rush to tease him for how soft he was, but he found the complimentary Rush was equally as attractive as the asshole Rush. It gave him hope.

  They stashed all their supplies in the barn and walked back to the house together. West was covered in dirt and sweat and needed a shower as soon as possible. He couldn’t wait to scrub the grime off himself, and then he was going to chow down on some leftovers, have a beer or two, and fall into bed. It sounded like the perfect evening.

  “Well, I guess I should be going. I’m meeting a friend for dinner,” Rush said when they reached West’s front door. There was something in his voice, a quality of hesitancy West couldn’t put his finger on. Was he waiting for an invitation? He declined the day before. Had things changed enough since then that he wanted to stay for dinner?

  West wasn’t sure, but he kept hi
s mouth shut. It had been a long day, and if Rush did stay, he figured they’d probably end up back in bed. As tempting as that sounded, West wasn’t sure his body could withstand another round like the one Rush put him through that morning.

  Rush said good-bye and walked away, Casper dashing after him.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  “Goddamn shit,” Rush muttered as he walked through his door. The house was quiet, the way he liked it, but tonight the stillness was off-putting.

  He had told West he was meeting a friend for dinner, which was a lie to avoid the awkwardness that clung anyway. Still, although it wasn’t the truth, the idea did have merit. He picked up his phone and dialed, hoping a beer or two at the pub would settle his frazzled nerves.

  “Hey, Sebastian. You feel up to dinner and a couple of pints?”

  “Sure,” Sebastian replied. “Would an hour work?”

  “Sounds good to me. I’ll meet you there.”

  He hung up, grateful for his friend. He could always count on Sebastian to be there when he needed him. They got along well, and Sebastian seemed to understand his penchant for silence. West seemed bent on talking. A lot. He had spent less than two days with the guy, and he talked more than anyone Rush had ever known. Despite the fact that he never shut up, Rush still didn’t know much about him. Not that he bothered to ask. He knew all he needed to. West was hot, he was a good fuck, and he was leaving. Even better was Rush didn’t like him. There was no chance of messy feelings creeping in.

  It was the perfect scenario. No muss, no fuss.

  He could admit the morning caught him off guard. Rush avoided looking too closely at the potent sense of rage that tore through him when he saw Rosie walking around in little more than a thin layer of cotton. A short thin layer of cotton. It didn’t matter. What did matter was Rush had the most intense orgasm of his life, or at least from what he could remember in recent history. It was good. It was beyond good, and it scared him a little.

  Yeah, he avoided the situation afterward, diving into work. He wasn’t sure he wanted to complicate things, and sex almost always complicated things. It was why he broke it off with Sebastian, and although they were okay together, they functioned much better as friends.

  Once he set food out for Casper, he changed clothes and headed out the door, eager to get some good food in his own belly and quiet the nagging in his gut that told him he was meeting the wrong guy.

  Sebastian was waiting for him when Rush arrived. There were already two pints of beer on the table in front of him as Rush sat down. Glancing over at Sebastian, he noticed the dark circles under his eyes appeared to be more pronounced than the last time Rush saw him, even though it was only a few days earlier.

  “How’s everything going?” Rush asked as he took his place and lifted his beer to his lips.

  “Same old,” Sebastian replied, chugging down nearly half the glass in one go.

  “Jesus. Long week?”

  “Something like that.”

  “You want to talk about it?”

  “Nope,” Sebastian said, finishing off the rest of the pint. “I heard you’ve been keeping busy, though.”

  “Yeah. I’m out helping West. The man can’t tell his ass from a hole in the ground, but he seems… coachable.”

  “Coachable?” Sebastian repeated.

  “Yeah. He’s never done manual labor in his life, far as I can tell, but he’s willing to learn. That’s more than I thought he’d do.”

  “So you’re pro-rich guy now?”

  “I didn’t say that. He’s not here forever, but in the meantime, I’d like it if he didn’t fuck up my parents’ business.”

  “It’s not their business anymore. It’s his. He can do what he wants with it.”

  “It’ll always be theirs,” Rush argued. He didn’t understand why Sebastian was being a dick all of a sudden.

  His eyes narrowed. “Did you fuck him?”

  Rush wasn’t any of Sebastian’s business, but they’d been friends a long time, so he didn’t see much point in lying either. He nodded, his expression entirely shameless.

  “Yup.”

  Sebastian stared at him for a moment, a look of disbelief passing across his face, but he didn’t say anything. He lifted his glass to motion for Cherie to bring him another.

  It didn’t take long, and Sebastian was grinning widely at Cherie, who stepped in to deliver his second pint.

  “Here you go, darlin’,” she said, placing it down on the table in front of him.

  “Thank you, Cherie. If you’re not too busy, keep ’em coming.”

  She smiled warmly at him. “You bet. It’s slow tonight, so I’m all yours until Bert sends me home.”

  “I like the sound of that.”

  Rush watched the exchange with a look of disbelief. Sebastian was flirting with her. Sebastian never flirted with her. Or anybody for that matter. Something was off.

  Cherie sashayed away, looking quite pleased with herself.

  “What was that?” Rush demanded.

  “What was what?”

  “Don’t play dumb. That little exchange I witnessed.”

  “I was being nice. Cherie’s a good person. Being friendly is what you do with good people.”

  “That seemed a little more than friendly.”

  Sebastian shrugged and started on his second pint.

  “How’s work?” Rush asked, changing the subject.

  “Fine,” Sebastian replied.

  Rush stared at him, waiting for him to continue, but he didn’t. Cherie arrived a moment later and took their order. Once she left, an awkward silence settled down on the table and didn’t let up. Rush never had trouble talking to Sebastian before, and even when they had nothing else to say, it hadn’t felt like this.

  They ate their meals in silence, and when it came time to say good-bye, the words were terse and the mood uncomfortable. Rush left the pub feeling off-kilter. He and Sebastian had been friends for a long time, and even after they ended their physical relationship, things remained relaxed and easy between them. Rush took for granted that was how it was with them. This new side of Sebastian threw him off balance.

  As he climbed into his truck, he tried to shrug it off. Maybe it was a bad mood and things would go back to normal in a day or two. In any case, there wasn’t anything he could do about it now. He drove home, concentrating on everything he needed to get done that week. He had neglected the daily upkeep of Black Mountain in favor of spending time at Lennox Hill. The farm wasn’t entirely self-sufficient, even if it was relatively low maintenance.

  Arriving home, he knelt on the floor to give Casper some attention. They’d been together the last few days, but much like his farm, Rush’s attention was elsewhere. He stood, patting his leg to signal Casper to follow, then walked into his living room where he collapsed on his couch. Propping his feet on the coffee table, he settled in with Casper, the dog resting his head happily on his master’s lap.

  Rush let his head fall back against the top of the sofa, and he closed his eyes, letting the silence of the room wrap around him. It was nice, just to be for a few minutes. His mind drifted back to dinner, which, if he was being honest with himself, bothered him more than he cared to admit. Something was definitely up with Sebastian, and the divide that mysteriously cropped up during dinner made him uneasy. He resolved to call him later and see if he could get to the bottom of things.

  A moment later, his cell phone chirped in his pocket. Moving as little as possible so as not to disturb Casper, he dug the phone out and checked the screen. A text message from West flashed across it. Sliding his thumb across, he was able to read the whole message.

  How was your dinner?

  Well that was a loaded question, but even more interesting was that West chose to text him in the first place. They weren’t at a place in their friendship where that was what they did. Even the term “friendship” gave Rush pause. They hadn’t known one another for long, and their relationship began on rocky footing. Even now R
ush wasn’t entirely certain how he felt about West. There were certain parts of him—parts you didn’t show in polite company—that liked him very much, but Rush still had a difficult time getting past the image he held of West in his mind.

  Yeah, he was a bit different than Rush originally thought. West wasn’t nearly as stuck up or douchey as his financial standing led him to believe, but the jury was still out on exactly how Rush felt about him, and until he decided he was going to keep himself at arm’s length.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  West sat at the dining room table, his phone in his hand, waiting for Rush’s reply. He was being ridiculous. All he asked was how Rush’s dinner was. It wasn’t like he was waiting for word that a billion-dollar acquisition went through. For some strange reason, though, he felt even more anticipation for the reply.

  Minutes passed, and West wasn’t sure if Rush was going to respond. He checked his e-mail, glancing over the report from Scarlet. His associates had everything under control, and West felt confident his company would run smoothly during the rest of his time away. The update wasn’t long enough to detour his mind from Rush, so he set his phone down on the table and tried not to look at it. Yep. He was definitely being ridiculous.

  The sound of the incoming text message had West’s heart pounding a little faster. He picked up the phone and read the message.

  Okay I guess.

  Not exactly descriptive, but he hadn’t guessed Rush would be.

  The man left hours ago, and all West had managed to do was shower and change clothes. The trip into his room to shower offered him a glimpse of the bed where they had sex earlier that day. The tangled sheets and discarded condom wrapper on the floor made West’s cheeks heat with the memory of it. It was less than twelve hours, and already West was craving Rush again.

  He stood and walked to the kitchen to pour himself a glass of water. The cool liquid slid down his throat as he drank but did nothing to cool his heated skin. There was no denying it. He wanted Rush again. He still didn’t know exactly what was happening between them, but he did know he wanted more.