Unbreakable

by Harlow, Melanie

  “Okay.” I wished I could take her arm as we walked toward the bar at the back of the room, but even though the party was in full swing and the room was packed with guests of the inn who had no idea who we were, I still didn’t feel right about it.

  At the bar, I ordered a whiskey on the rocks and she ordered a glass of sparkling white. While we waited for the bartender to pour, she moved closer to me and spoke softly. “You look amazing.”

  “So do you. I like your outfit.”

  She blushed and looked down at her legs. “Thanks. I was a little hesitant to wear this skirt because it’s so short, but I decided to go for it.”

  “I’m glad you did.”

  “My ex hated this skirt. He said it was trashy.”

  My hands flexed. “You ex was a fucking idiot.”

  “He was. But lucky for me, he’s gone, and I no longer care what he thinks about my clothes. I like this skirt, so I’m going to wear it.”

  “My ex hated all my shirts with holes. I think that’s why I still wear them.”

  She laughed. “I will love it even more every time I see a hole in your shirt.”

  When our drinks had been poured, she picked up her glass and tugged at my elbow. “Let’s go sit with Mack and Frannie. They’re at our table.”

  I walked behind her, admiring her pert little ass in that glittering skirt and trying not to drool. The crotch of my pants was already growing tight.

  Respectable gentleman. Respectable gentleman. Respectable gentleman, I repeated in my head.

  So far, it was not going well.

  At the table designated for the family, Mack and Frannie sat chatting with Meg and Noah. “I saved these for us,” Sylvia said, indicating two empty chairs. “And those are for Chloe and Oliver and April, if she ever gets a break.”

  “Thanks.” I sat down, and she slid onto the chair beside me. It was obvious Frannie knew what was going on with us, because she was giving her sister a look that was like winking without the actual wink.

  I took a pretty big swallow of whiskey. “Where are the kids sitting tonight?”

  “They have their own table by the band,” Frannie said, glancing in that direction. “The girls are insisting they can make it to midnight, but I’ve got my doubts.”

  “If Winnie falls asleep, we can just stick her on the couch in the office, like we used to do with you,” Sylvia said with a laugh.

  That led to a discussion about what it had been like to grow up at Cloverleigh, all the changes over the years, and what the future might bring. Chloe and Oliver joined us eventually, and Chloe generously praised Sylvia’s performance in the tasting room the last two days.

  “She’s a natural,” Chloe said, clinking her glass to Sylvia’s. “A couple weeks, and she’ll know as much as I do.”

  “No way.” Sylvia shook her head. “I have so much to learn. I really want to understand the whole process, from the planting to the harvest to the aging. I feel like what I’m describing to guests will make so much more sense. It’s like what you were saying, Henry.” She looked at me, leaning in my direction. “What people taste here is totally unique to our vineyard, to the way we make wine. And what they’re tasting this year will be different than what they might taste next year, because every vintage tells a different story. I want to make them come back year after year to learn a new story.”

  Chloe laughed. “Sounds like someone has been reading the gospel of Henry DeSantis.”

  “Hey, she asked,” I said, putting one palm up. “I didn’t force it on her.”

  “No, I love it,” Sylvia gushed, putting her hand on my fucking thigh. “I find it fascinating.”

  “I’m sure.” The smirk on Chloe’s face, paired with the look she exchanged with Frannie, told me we were not fooling the Sawyer sisters. Only Meg seemed a little clueless, but then, she and Noah were pretty wrapped up in each other.

  My first drink went down easy and fast, so I had another. The whiskey eased my nerves and relaxed the tension in my shoulders, but it did nothing to take the edge off the desire I felt for the woman next to me. During dinner, I laughed and talked with everyone at the table, but every time she looked in my direction or gave me a smile or put a hand on my leg, I felt like I was coming out of my skin.

  After dessert, the band switched from big band dinner music to more upbeat oldies, and people swarmed the dance floor. After some coaxing, Mack agreed to dance with Frannie but slammed the rest of his beer first. Chloe convinced Oliver to get out there too, but Noah said there was no way in hell he was dancing until his current beer was empty, so Sylvia and I sat talking to them for a while.

  I’m not sure when I put my arm around the back of Sylvia’s chair, but I suddenly realized it was there when I noticed Meg staring at it. If I hadn’t been halfway through my third whiskey, I might have removed it.

  The band began to play a classic Elvis Presley ballad, and Sylvia turned to me with a hopeful look in her eye. “You wouldn’t want to dance with me by any chance, would you? I love this song.”

  “Uh, I’m not much of a dancer.”

  “I don’t mind.”

  The idea of holding her close, even on a crowded dance floor, was too tempting to resist. “Okay.”

  We walked onto the floor and found a spot among the slow-moving couples. She came into my arms as naturally as if we’d been dancing together for years. I could smell her perfume, and inhaled deeply. The scent stirred up memories of her bare skin on mine, and provoked a response in my body that I couldn’t exactly hide. I glanced over her shoulder at the table where the kids were sitting and saw Whitney watching us, transfixed.

  “Thanks for this,” Sylvia said, looking up at me. “I know it’s probably not comfortable.”

  “Your daughter is looking a little unsettled.”

  Sylvia shook her head. “I’m not even turning around to look at her. We are dancing, that’s all.”

  “Okay.” But I adjusted my hold on her, putting a little more space between our bodies.

  Sylvia laughed. “Are you trying to leave room for the Holy Ghost?”

  “I’m trying to be a good person, and you make it hard.”

  She nestled in closer, pressing her breasts against my chest. “How hard?” she whispered.

  “Oh, Jesus.” I shook my head. “You need to stop. My mind is going to some dangerous places right now.”

  “Tell me about it.” Then she went up on tiptoe to whisper in my ear. “And use all the dirty words. You know how I like them.”

  I groaned, closing my eyes for a second. “Sylvia. We’re in a room full of people and we’re being watched.”

  She giggled and backed off—a little. “Okay, okay. Sorry. Misbehaving is new to me, and I’m a little addicted to it.”

  For the rest of the song, I told myself not to worry so much and just enjoy the feel of her in my arms. This was as much of her as I would get tonight, so I might as well savor it. When the song ended, we walked back to our table hand in hand.

  “Hey, Syl,” Meg said brightly, picking her purse up from the floor. “Come to the ladies’ room with me.”

  “Okay.” Sylvia reached beneath her chair for her purse before turning to me. “Be right back.”

  “No problem.” I watched her walk away with her sister and knew in my gut Meg was going to ask her what was going on with us. It still didn’t stop me from staring at Sylvia’s butt and the way that skirt clung and shimmered as she moved.

  “So,” Noah said, tipping up his beer. “How long have you been in love with Sylvia?”

  I made a sound somewhere between a choke and a laugh. “Uh, since I saw her in that skirt?”

  Noah nodded and touched his beer bottle to my glass. “Good answer.”

  Seventeen

  Sylvia

  Meg dashed past the ladies’ room at the pace of an Olympic sprinter. “There could be people in there. Come in here.”

  I felt myself being dragged into the catering office at the end of the hall. “Meg, what o
n earth?”

  “We need to talk.” She shut the door, snapped on the overhead light, and turned to face me, her eyes gleaming. “What’s going on with you and Henry?”

  “Um . . .”

  “Don’t even bother lying to me. I can see that there’s a thing between you. You’re all over him.”

  “What? I am not.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Syl, you’ve practically been in his lap all night. And he’s been looking at you with that look in his eye.”

  “What look?”

  Her brows peaked. “The I’ve got ideas look. Now tell the truth.” She folded her arms. “Did you sleep with him?”

  I sighed, giving up the pretense. “Yes.”

  She squealed and clapped her hands. “Yay! Once?”

  “Yes.” Then I grinned. “Once in the hallway, once in his bed, once in his bathtub, and once in his office.”

  The smile slid off Meg’s face, her expression morphing from delight to shock. “Are you fucking kidding me? You’ve done it that many times since you’ve been home?”

  “Well, most of that happened last Saturday night. But yeah, things did move kind of quickly.” I lifted my shoulders. “I’m a little scared how quickly, actually.”

  “Why? He seems like such a great guy.”

  “Because he is a great guy. Because I like him so much. Because if my life were different and not so fucked up, he’d be exactly the kind of guy I was looking for.” I swallowed hard. “I could fall for him so easily, Meg.”

  “But your life isn’t fucked up anymore, Syl—that’s the beautiful thing.” She took me by the shoulders. “Don’t scare yourself out of giving him a chance.”

  “I’m not, I swear.” I shook my head. “In fact, I’d probably be wise to be more cautious, not less. But I can’t seem to stay away from him.”

  “And that’s a bad thing?”

  “There’s this voice,” I blurted.

  “Voice?”

  “In my head,” I explained. “And it makes me doubt myself. It makes me feel like I can’t trust what I’m feeling.”

  “Don’t listen to it,” she said, as if it were that easy.

  “But—”

  “But nothing. I know how unhappy you were last fall—how unhappy you’ve been for years. If the thought of being with Henry makes you happy, you should give him a chance.”

  “It’s not just me I have to think about,” I reminded her. “I have two children.”

  “Oh yeah, I forgot about them.” She sighed. “Children do make things more complicated. But I’m sure yours want you to be happy, right? You just have to talk to them.”

  I decided not to mention Whitney’s suspicious questions last night—mostly because I just didn’t want to think about them. “This whole discussion could be for nothing,” I said. “I mean, Henry might not have any interest in dating me for real. He could have anyone—someone younger and prettier and without kids.”

  She smirked. “Trust me. He has interest. Even Noah asked me if you two were fucking.”

  “Jeez,” I said, rolling my eyes. “Are we the two least chill people on the planet?”

  She laughed. “It’s possible, but hey. Good chemistry is good chemistry. And it’s not easy to find, so don’t waste it. Come on, we should get back to the party.”

  * * *

  The overhead lights in the barn had been dimmed, and the room was lit only by strings of party lights hung from the rafters. Before I went back to my table, I checked on the kids, who seemed to be having a great time. Even little Winnie was still going strong.

  “But Mom, what about the sparklers?” Whitney asked, out of breath from dancing. “I think we forgot them.” She had quite a bit of makeup on, including some pretty garish teal eyeshadow, but I hadn’t felt like arguing with her tonight. And she was clearly having fun—I felt a little more optimistic.

  “Oh, that’s right! I need to run home and get them.” I patted her shoulder. “I’ll be right back, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  I walked back toward my table, where Henry was sitting alone. One ankle was crossed over his knee, and he leaned back in his chair, sipping his drink as he watched me approach, his eyes on fire. It struck me like a punch in the gut how handsome he was. How sexy. How strong. How good. Something in me ignited.

  “Hey,” he said, rising to his feet to pull out my chair. “I was beginning to wonder if you found someone better to sit next to.”

  “Impossible,” I said, tossing my purse onto the table. Then I rose on tiptoe to whisper in his ear. “Want to sneak away with me for a minute or two?”

  He closed his eyes. “Sylvia. Don’t do this to me.”

  “Do what?”

  “Tempt me.” His eyes opened and seared into mine. “I promised myself I’d be good tonight because we’re in public.”

  “So let’s go somewhere private and be bad.”

  “Respectable gentleman. Respectable gentleman. Respectable gentleman,” he mumbled.

  “What?”

  “You’re killing me, Sylvia. Everyone will see us leave. Our entire table knows we’re screwing around. Probably because I can’t stop staring at your ass in that skirt.”

  “I don’t care who sees us. I want you. Now.” I gave him my most seductive smile and spoke low. “I’ll leave the skirt on for you.”

  “Fuck.” He struggled with it for less than three seconds, and then gave in. “Where are we sneaking to?”

  I grinned. “My house. I’ll go first.”

  “I’ll be two minutes behind—if I can wait that long.”

  Turning on my heel, I dashed into the coatroom by the exit, slipped on the wool dress coat I’d borrowed from my mom, and hurried out the doors. The air was icy cold, but it wasn’t snowing and the walkway between the barn and the inn was freshly plowed. Still, I had to force myself to slow down so I wouldn’t catch a heel and stumble.

  If I was going to put marks on my knees, it wasn’t going to be because of a slippery sidewalk.

  The kick of doing something sexy and subversive coursed through me. I couldn’t ever remember a time in my life when I’d behaved so wantonly or heedlessly. But I didn’t care—at this moment, nothing else mattered to me except how I wanted to feel, and it was so fucking fantastic to have power over that again. I was taking my life back. What better way to say goodbye to the old me and hello to the new?

  I turned off the pathway at my parents’ driveway and used the code to open the garage. From there I slipped into the house via the back door, which led right into the mudroom. I left the garage door open, thinking that Henry would come in that way also, but I’d only been inside the kitchen long enough to spot the forgotten bag of sparklers on a kitchen chair when I heard a knock on the front door.

  So much for waiting five minutes.

  Shrugging off my coat and tossing it on top of the bag, I hurried into the front hall to pull it open. He stood on the porch in his formal clothes like an old-fashioned suitor coming to call, or maybe even my prom date coming to fetch me for the dance.

  “Come on in,” I said, moving back so he could step inside.

  He shoved the door closed behind him. The hallway was dark and silent. “All alone, little girl?”

  I nodded, taking his hand and leading him up the stairs. “My parents aren’t home.”

  “Is it wise to invite the teacher into your house at night when your parents aren’t home?”

  “Well, I just thought you might want to give me a little private tutoring session. I’m so anxious to be your best student.” I pulled him inside my room and he shut the door. My shades were lowered, but the bedside lamp was on. The light wasn’t bright, but it was enough to see the hungry look in his eyes.

  “A private tutoring session, huh?” He doffed his suit coat, tossing it onto my bed. Then he undid the knot in his tie and pulled it loose. “And what is it you want to learn?”

  I lifted my shoulders and assumed an expression of innocence as I sauntered toward him, hands cl
asped behind my back. “How to please you, of course.”

  He yanked the tie from his collar. “Turn around.”

  I presented my back to him and saw our reflections in the full-length mirror on the back of my closet door. I half expected him to yank up the sequined skirt he liked so much and fuck me right there on my feet—while both of us watched. But instead, he pulled my hands behind my back and bound my wrists with his necktie.

  Tight.

  A little gasp escaped me. My heart was pounding. I’d never been tied up before.

  “You wanted to learn how to please me.” Henry locked eyes with me in the mirror.

  “Yes.”

  “Sometimes I like to have all the control.”

  He stood there for one second longer, and I briefly wondered if he was debating how far to take this little game. I wanted to show him he didn’t have to be afraid of hurting me, of offending me. I wanted to play—hadn’t I started it? How could I let him know?

  Facing him again, I dropped to my knees on the rug and looked up at him with wide eyes. “Tell me what to do.” I licked my lips. “Please.”

  “Jesus.” Henry put two fingers beneath my chin and ran his thumb across my bottom lip. “Your mouth is so fucking beautiful.”

  I parted my lips slightly, and he slipped his thumb between them. I stroked it with my tongue, circled it, sucked on it, all the while keeping my eyes locked on his.

  His breathing grew heavier. “Do you know what you’re asking for, little girl?”

  I almost nodded—but then thought it might be more fun if I answered no. So I shook my head, pulled my lips from his thumb. “Show me.”

  He unbuckled.

  Unbuttoned.

  Unzipped.

  Then he reached inside his pants and pulled out his cock, which was huge and thick and hard. He stroked himself a few times, and I felt myself growing wetter.

  “Let me,” I whispered.

  He positioned the tip at my lips and I licked it like an ice cream cone with my tongue. One side then the other. Around in a circle. This way and that, while he gripped his shaft in his fist and worked his hand slowly up and down.