by Claire Raye
I’m trembling despite the warm evening; my hand shakes in his and he tightens his grip.
And when the song ends, neither of us moves.
Chapter Eleven
Jack
My heart is pounding.
Pounding hard against my ribcage, against her as she stands in my arms, her body against mine.
My eyes close as her lips brush against my neck, her breath warm against my skin. My hand at the small of her back tightens, urging her closer, our bodies fitting together so easily it’s as though they were always meant to.
I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve thought about doing this. Since I came back here, since I was a kid, all the years in between.
Time and distance haven’t changed how much I want her, they’ve magnified it and fuck me, I want her so bad right now.
“Lu,” I whisper against her ear just as a new song starts playing, the music masking the hard beat of my heart.
She lifts her head and my hand slides up her spine, cupping the back of her neck as she stares up at me, our eyes locked together in the darkness of her front porch.
She swallows hard and I feel the movement of her throat, watch as she licks her lips, not moving closer, but not pulling away either.
Our other hands are still linked and I lift them to my mouth, my eyes never leaving hers as I press a kiss to her knuckles. She whimpers at the touch and my knees nearly give way at the sound. As I realize this is it.
This is the moment I’ve been dreaming about since I walked into her kitchen a week ago and saw her for the first time in fourteen years. Since I walked away from her all those years ago.
This is fucking it.
I let go of her hand now, sliding my arm around her waist and pulling her closer. Her hand falls to my chest, her fingers curling into the fabric of my t-shirt as she holds onto me, her other hand still around my neck. Her thumb brushes against my skin, sending a jolt of electricity straight down my spine.
The air hums between us, charged with so much intensity and heat, that it’s almost unbearable, the tension wound so tight that it’s almost impossible to resist.
And then I stop trying.
Lowering my head, I gently touch my lips to hers, the low moan she lets out nearly undoing me. Her lips part and I press my mouth harder as I slowly slide my tongue against hers, both of us groaning now.
I feel her hand at the back of my neck pulling me closer, her tongue as it slips into my mouth, teasing me, tasting. My body feels wired, loaded with an energy that’s all lust and heat and want.
Desire for her.
“Lu,” I murmur against her lips, pulling her against me so there isn’t a single bit of space between us. Our bodies meld together as my arm wraps around her waist, the hand at the back of her neck sliding down to her shoulders.
Her skin is warm beneath mine, and I feel goose bumps rise beneath my touch as my fingers gently brush against the bare skin of her shoulder, against the tiny straps I imagined pulling down this morning.
We kiss and kiss, never stopping, never coming up for air as we breathe each other in instead. My lips move slowly against hers, tongues touching. Everything about this moment feels intense and amazing and a million times better than I ever could have imagined it to be.
I don’t ever want it to end.
When the song ends though, we both pull back, far enough that our lips part, but close enough to still share a breath. I rest my forehead against hers, my eyes closed as I try to calm the craziness inside my head and my heart.
They are warring against me, against each other. One of them telling me to stop, to take this slow because I don’t want to fuck it up and I don’t want to get burnt. The other telling me to ignore all that shit and drag her inside, take this further, where we both want it to go.
Where there’s no turning back.
“Jack,” she breathes out, my name nothing more than a quiet whisper between us, but still with a tiny trace of hesitation that makes up my mind.
“I don’t want to stop,” I whisper, my forehead still against hers, eyes closed. “But I’m going to.”
I feel her fingers, which are still twisted in my t-shirt, tighten.
“I don’t want to, Lu,” I tell her, my voice husky. “But tonight, I will.”
“Jack,” she repeats and I open my eyes, find hers already open, watching me.
Pulling back a little, I smile at her, brush a thumb across her cheekbone. “Goodnight, Lulu,” I whisper, leaning in to press one last kiss against her lips.
Then I uncurl my arms from her body and before I can question whether this is the right thing to do, I turn and walk down the steps, across the lawn to my place and go inside.
I wake with the sun, my body wired from too little sleep and from everything else that happened yesterday.
I’d thought Lu showing up at my house to take me to lunch was going to be the best part of my day. Had thought the grape war with her and the kids was an added bonus. But fuck me if that kiss last night didn’t blow everything else out of the water.
“God,” I groan, shoving a hand through my hair as I drag myself from bed.
I pull on some running clothes, knowing this is going to be the only way I can work all this excess energy off. I should be exhausted, I barely slept after I came inside, but instead, I’m on edge, my body hyped and unable to stay still.
After a couple of half-arsed stretches, I head out the front door, glancing across to Lu’s place because I can’t stop myself.
It’s quiet and still and I imagine her inside, asleep in her bed. Images of me lying beside her, of waking her and working all this energy off in a very different way flood my brain. Groaning again, I force myself to look away, to get moving and run as hard as I can, pushing my body to exhaustion.
I do eight laps before I finally stop and my legs protest any more movement and I have to give in before I collapse.
When I get back to my house, everything looks the same as when I left, no sign of movement at Lu’s. Reluctantly, I drag myself inside, take a long, barely warm shower before dressing and making some coffee, all the time wondering what’s going to happen when we finally see each other today.
Will things be different between us? How could they not be? After that kiss, everything’s changed.
Everything.
I’ve been in the shed for two hours by the time Oscar wanders in.
“Hey little dude,” I call out, as I empty the last of the crushed juice from the smaller crusher Lu has. “What’s going on?”
Oscar takes us through our complicated handshake routine before taking in what I’m doing. Shooting me a sideways glance, he says, “What’s happening here?”
I grin. “A secret,” I tell him. “So, zip it, alright?” I say, as I drag my fingers across my mouth in the universal action for shut the hell up.
Oscar grins at me, arms crossed over his chest as he rocks on his heels. “Yeah, and what’s in it for me?”
I chuckle, ruffling up his hair as I drag the tank I was filling out to a back room, Oscar following close behind me. He watches wordlessly as I pump the juice into an old oak barrel, checking the acidity and sugar levels before putting a stopper in the top and jamming it in with the mallet.
Turning, I see him still watching me, a wary look on his face. “Well?” he prompts.
Now it’s me crossing my arms over my chest. “What do you want?” I ask, raising an eyebrow.
Oscar’s hand goes to his chin as he contemplates my offer, a serious look on his face because this is clearly serious business to him.
“Come on,” I prompt. “Time’s a ticking and I don’t have all day.”
He nods his head once. “You have to come over and have dinner with us,” he starts. “And then build Legos and then watch a movie. That’s what I want.”
“That’s it?” I ask, smiling.
“Yep,” he says, nodding.
“Okay,” I say. “And who else is joining us?”
; “Well, there’s you and me, obviously,” he says, shooting me a look as he counts this off on his fingers. “Maybe Mom and Dad, probably Aunt Lulu and I guess we should ask Ollie, too, although she’ll only be a pain in the butt.”
I chuckle. “Your sister’s not a pain the butt.”
“Oh yeah,” he says, hands on his hips. “You try living with her.”
I laugh harder as I put a hand on his shoulder and steer him out of the back room and into the main part of the shed. “So, when’s this big get together happening?”
He shrugs. “Dunno, I’ll have to ask,” he says.
“Okay, you do that,” I tell him. “In the meantime though, this is our little secret, right?”
He nods as he glances back over his shoulder. “So, what are you doing?”
I ruffle his hair. “I’m making something.”
“For Aunt Lulu?” he immediately asks.
I cock my head at him. “Why would you think that?”
“Duh,” he says, hands out in front of him as though it’s obvious. “You totally like her,” he says. “Who else would you be making it for?”
I laugh at his seriousness, even if it does surprise me how much he sees, how much he notices around here. “Hmmm,” I say. “And what if I am making it for her?” I ask, glancing down at him. “What would you think about that?”
“That’d be cool,” he replies. “It’s okay that you like her.”
I burst out laughing. “Thanks man, I’m glad I’ve got your approval. Where is your aunt, anyway?”
“I dunno,” he mutters, walking over to the broken crusher. He picks up a wrench, turning it over in his hands as though he’s contemplating just how much destruction he could wreak with it. I pull it from his hands, shaking my head when he huffs.
“You don’t know?”
He shrugs. “I don’t know, I think she went to town or something, errands. Who knows,” he says as though it’s no big deal. “Can we go do something?”
I chuckle, as I throw the wrench back in the toolbox. “I gotta work, dude.”
Oscar rolls his eyes. “Well that’s lame.”
“That’s life, my friend,” I tell him.
“Come on,” he says. “Aunt Lulu won’t mind.”
I shake my head. “Even if she didn’t,” I tell him. “I still gotta do it.”
“Okay, whatever,” he says, waving his hand in dismissal. “I can see I’m getting nowhere here. Later.”
I laugh. “Laters, little dude,” I say. “Let me know about that dinner,” I call just as he walks out the door.
After Oscar leaves, I spend a couple more hours pulling the crusher apart. It’s still a couple more weeks until the parts get here, but I figure it’s the perfect time to give the whole machine a good overhaul and cleaning.
Judging by how clogged up the thing was, I’m gonna guess it hasn’t been done for a long time. Kind of like the gutters on the outbuilding and a couple of other things I’ve noticed around the place.
And as much as I know Lu is a professional who takes pride in her work and would never ruin the reputation her family has spent generations building, it makes me think that maybe she needs an extra pair of hands around the place.
That maybe I could be the person to help her out with things and what that would mean if I did.
Could I really leave my life in Australia behind?
When I boarded that plane in Sydney, I’d thought this would be a couple of months in the States that would allow me to escape the shit fight my personal life had become at home. An opportunity to look up the girl I’ve never forgotten about, despite all the years that had passed.
I’d been an idiot not to keep in contact with her when I left, but I was also a guy, a teenage boy that didn’t know what the fuck to do when it came to women.
And even though I’ve grown up a lot since then, I can’t help but wonder if I should have done something sooner. Should have come and found her years ago, before I had the chance to make the million other mistakes I’ve made.
What would my life have been like?
What could my life be like now?
As weird as it was that I’d admitted those things last night, things about her having kids and how much that bothered me, I knew I’d never take those words back.
Knew I meant it when I had said them to her.
At lunchtime, I finally take a break and wander down to the main office, looking for Lu. But she’s not there, instead I’m greeted by Ellen.
“Hey,” I say, standing in the doorway, feeling weirdly nervous.
Ellen looks up. “Hi,” she says, a strange smile on her face.
“Is, ah, is Lu around?” I ask, glancing around the obviously empty except for us office.
Ellen chuckles as she sits back in the chair, crossing her arms over her chest in a move that is eerily reminiscent of her son. “No,” she says, still smiling. “She’s gone to see one of our co-packers,” she says. “She’ll be back later. How are you?” she adds, head cocked to the side as she watches me.
I shrug. “Fine,” I say.
“Just fine?”
I narrow my gaze at her. “Yeah,” I say cautiously.
“Not great, or fantastic or un-fucking-believable?” she asks.
“Um,” I say, scrubbing a hand across my jaw. “I guess.”
Ellen nods, the smile still on her face as she uncrosses her arms and goes back to whatever she was doing when I walked in. “Alright then,” she says. “I’ll be sure to tell Lauren you’re looking for her,” she adds, chuckling to herself a little.
“Okay,” I say, as I turn and walk out.
I don’t know what the fuck that was all about, but something tells me that Ellen is more like Oscar than I realized.
And I get the feeling she just might know about that kiss last night too.
Chapter Twelve
Lauren
I walk into my office and Ellen occupies my chair as she feverishly works on the books. She knows there’s a possibility we may not be selling as much of our bestselling wine as we usually do.
I know she’s currently working on cutting costs because that’s what she does best. If necessary she can save us money without cutting jobs and without the tourists realizing we’ve changed our vegetable supplier when they eat at the restaurant.
“Hey,” I say as I walk in and Ellen’s head whips up and looks at me, flashing me a quick smile before returning to what she was doing.
Without looking up again, she says, “What do you think about hiring Jack for the maintenance position we have open?” She starts punching numbers into a calculator acting like she didn’t just send me into a tailspin.
She can’t possibly know that Jack and I kissed last night!
“Why would we hire Jack?” I ask, my voice abnormally high-pitched and I curse inwardly at myself for being so damn transparent.
Ever since Jack and I kissed, my body has been buzzing, a low hum that has me wired and on edge.
Our paths have yet to cross, and that’s partially because I’m avoiding him, but when they do I feel like it’s going to be totally awkward. He just walked away, left me standing on my porch in silence, yet I never said a word to him either. I just stood there like a damn fool.
“Um, because he’s been doing most of the stuff anyway,” she says nonchalantly like I should’ve realized that myself.
I want to tell her that I can’t think clearly because my head is a fucked up mess of wondering what would have happened if I had just invited Jack inside after that kiss.
That kiss.
Fuck me. Just the thought of it has me reeling all over again
“You’re the one who told me to pay him for cleaning out the gutters and I figured it would give him something to do while he waits for the parts to arrive.”
I nod my head, but I’ve barely heard her. Each mention of Jack has me picturing him shirtless and tanned and muscled, fixing roof tiles and weeding, his body sweaty and hot. I picture him in my sho
wer, his dirty blonde hair wet as water droplets run in rivulets over his amazingly chiseled abs.
Oh my god this isn’t a fucking porno.
What is wrong with me?
It was one kiss, one simple kiss. I must be really lonely because I’ve turned a PG kiss into an X-Rated wet dream.
“It would be some extra money in addition to his daily rate we’re paying to retain him to fix the crusher,” Ellen drones on. She’s still fucking talking and she has no idea that I’m not even listening. “Obviously we’ll still have to hire someone once he’s gone.”
And there’s what pulls me out of this hazy daydream I’ve been floating around in all day.
Once he’s gone.
“Lauren!” Ellen snaps and I practically scream out loud, startled and shocked at the realization that I can’t possibly start a relationship with Jack. He’s going to leave.
He’s going to leave me.
It was just a kiss. Who am I to think it would even lead to more? He’s been here for a week and judging by his looks he isn’t used to going that long without female contact. I’m just another girl in a long list of girls he’s played.
“Are you even listening to me?”
“Yeah, yeah, um…”
“So, what do you say? You wanna talk to him about it?”
“He’s not going to be interested, Ellen,” I snip back at her, letting my thoughts run wild, making me crabby. I’m taking it out on her because she’s here. “And he’s not a maintenance man. He’s a wine maker and really good one at that. Again, he’s not going to be interested.”
“Really?” she questions, her eyebrow rising as she points out the window.
I look and find Jack hauling a ridiculous amount of broken branches and twigs, his flexed arms showing off just exactly how qualified he is for the maintenance job we have open.
“And I think he’s interested in more than just helping out around here,” she adds, elbowing me in the side as she stops to stand next to me.