by Kris Bryant
“I love how you are making this about you,” she says.
Score. “Come on. It’s not just about me. It’s about love and chocolate and a winery. This additional service might just make this little winery in our backyard stand out in a competitive industry.”
“But aren’t they worried that future customers of the winery will visit and expect a proposal if this becomes a thing that they do? Are they worried that it could backfire and customers might not visit because of the expectation?”
“Carol is actually excited about that very thing. In reality, how many couples ready to take the plunge go to wineries? I’m sure the percentage is relatively low. Their traffic appears to be bus tours, bachelorette parties, married couples, and wine enthusiasts. I don’t think this is a big thing yet, but it could be. Most people propose at a nice dinner or the beach or at a family gathering. This is somewhat different. Who knows? Maybe this will be the future of proposals.”
She stares at me. “So when are you thinking of doing this? Kevin is going to be on vacation soon. Is next Friday too soon?” A week away. It hits me all at once and I sit back in my chair. I’m torn between jumping up and down with glee and putting my head between my knees to take a few deep, calming breaths.
“No, that’s fine. I’m sure I can go up there with Kevin and help install a few cameras early. Just know that if I look bad or it doesn’t go down like I want it to, we are scrapping the idea.”
Carmen agrees with me. “I don’t think there will be a problem, but start thinking of another story just in case.”
“I can interview Carol and the workers Friday morning about the winery in general so that we have that footage on file. I can talk about the proposal service. Then when I propose, I won’t have to worry about finishing the story. My tears of joy will be a great ending.”
Carmen laughs. “Please don’t ugly cry. I want pretty, happy tears.”
“I can’t promise you anything. I will probably be a sniveling idiot,” I say. We both laugh because we know I’m right. I’m not an overly emotional person, but when I do crack, I’m a mess.
“Well, we will have to see what happens. Keep thinking about a backup story just in case.” She hugs me on my way out the door. “I think this is great, Finn. Amber is a wonderful woman and I have never seen you this happy and peaceful before.”
I’ve worked for the news station since college and Carmen witnessed some of my past relationships. I chalked them up as learning experiences. She calls them my crazies.
Chapter Four
“How was your day?” I ask when I hear the door open and close. Amber walks into the kitchen from the mudroom and the look on her face tells me it wasn’t the greatest. I pour her a glass of Cabernet from K Meadows Winery and kiss her before giving her the glass. She drops her bag on the counter and takes a deep breath.
“So tell me again when we are going to win the lottery and can run away from this life.” She takes a sip of the wine and her eyes light up. “This is yummy. Is it new?” She tips the bottle back on the counter to read the label.
“Carmen has asked that I do a story on a local winery and I decided on K Meadows because you like them so much. Do you want to come with me when I do the interview?”
Her smile is magnificent. “Definitely. When are you doing it?”
“Next Friday,” I say. “We can visit after work.”
“With a camera crew? A live interview or a piece together story? I mean, I’m only asking because that late in the day isn’t the best light. If you have to go without me, I understand.” I can feel panic flutter around in my chest. I turn away from her quickly so that she doesn’t see the panic reflected on my face. I open the refrigerator before I answer her.
“Well, they couldn’t do anything during the day because they are busy with graping or whatever you call it. Our feature focuses more on tastings, not the wine making process. So we won’t be filming outside. Plus, this is a great time for us to spend time together even though I’m technically working.” I try to sound semi-uninterested to throw her off, but she has a genuine interest in wine and knows more about it than the average person.
“It’s not even close to harvest time,” she says. I’m still bent over looking into the refrigerator so I grab the first thing I see and turn back around to face her again.
“Well, maybe they have to water them or check the grapes’ progress.”
“Hm. Watering is usually done in the mornings or late evenings. Oh well, they are the experts. What do I know? What are you going to do with that celery?” I look down and find that I have grabbed an entire bag of celery. I have absolutely no idea what to tell her. She knows I’m not a salad eater. I come up with something quick.
“I was thinking of making you a salad to go with dinner tonight. Grill a few steaks, throw a few potatoes on.” It’s the best I can come up with during a panic.
“I thought we were going to Mario’s?” Mario’s is a small Italian restaurant on the corner of our street. We eat there every Tuesday night and we even have our own table. Showing up on a Friday night will throw them off, but Amber needs a break and some pampering.
I roll my eyes. “Gah, you’re right. I don’t know what I was thinking.” I put the celery back and pour myself a glass of wine.
“Are you okay, love? You seem a bit out of sorts and flushed.” She reaches out to cup my face in her hands, trying to gauge if I am running a fever or not. I pray she can’t feel my heart beating excitedly. I gently pull away and brush her off.
“I’m okay. It was a long day at work. I just need to relax,” I say. My explanation is weak, but she doesn’t press me. She’s nothing but caring and supportive. I’m so thankful I gave Carmen the ring to hold. I’m ready to fall down on my knees and propose right now. I remind myself that it needs to be perfect. Amber deserves nothing but the best. The best includes me calming down and waiting patiently for the right time. I can’t screw this up. “Let’s change and get to Mario’s.” We head for the bedroom and I love that she holds my hand even when we are in the house. “Tell me about why your day sucked.”
“We have the Campbell case going to court in two months. It doesn’t look like they are going to settle so I will be busy between now and the trial. Our meeting today was four hours. Four. It could have been done in one. The rest of the day I was drafting letters to everybody involved in the case. I’m just tired.” She sits on the edge of the bed to toe off her heels. She has long, toned legs and I love running my hands over them. I refrain because when I start, we end up making love all night and right now, I think she needs a good meal and a nice glass of wine. We have the rest of the night to relax my way.
“Let’s have a quick dinner and come back here to unwind. I’ll run you a bath and give you a massage that will ease you right to sleep.” She smiles at me, knowing full well if she agrees to this, our night will not include a lot of sleeping.
“That sounds fantastic,” she says.
I lean over and kiss her softly. The intensity of our kiss changes and I reluctantly pull back first. “Let’s get changed and go eat. The sooner we do that, the sooner we can get back to this,” I say. It takes me less than a minute to change into jeans and a shirt. Amber carefully hangs up her suit jacket and skirt and peels off the rest of her clothes. She puts her heels in the closet, lining them up perfectly with her other shoes. I look at my closet where my shoes are at least inside, but nowhere close to being paired up. She slips into a skirt and white blouse and sandals. At twenty-eight, she looks more like a college student and not a professional woman who takes on more than she should. I’m her second serious relationship.
“Okay, I think I’m ready. How do I look?” She brushes her hair out and it falls softly past her shoulders.
“Beautiful,” I say. I reach out for her and pull her close to me. “I am the luckiest woman in the world.” She playfully hits my shoulder.
“No, I am the luckiest woman,” she says before she kisses me. I feel her strength
in the kiss and my eyes begin to sting at the intensity of my emotions. I know marrying her is what I want more than anything. I can’t cry now. I pull her into a hug so that she won’t see my watery eyes and hold her until I am able to calm my nerves. She doesn’t question why I’m holding her, but stays in my embrace.
“Okay, I think I’m ready. Let’s go,” I say.
*
The staff at Mario’s is rushing around feeding a large party of businessmen in suits and ties. So much for a quiet dinner at our favorite restaurant. Our regular table is right next to the dozen rowdy men drinking wine and pretending they are Italian. I want to secretly walk backward and escape, but the owner sees us and stops us.
“Ladies, I’m sorry it is so loud. Can I put you at a different table?” Tommy has always been very accommodating to us and other gay and lesbian couples in the neighborhood. At his restaurant, nobody cares if Amber and I hold hands or kiss.
“How about something outside?” I ask. He looks relieved.
“Let me get a table set up in the shade.” He disappears quickly and ushers a busboy to set up a table on the north side of the restaurant. I’m surprised that we are the only ones sitting outside. The weather is perfect.
“This is so nice. Maybe we should start having dinner out here,” Amber says. I nod. The temperature is great, plus we get to people watch. Tommy brings us out complimentary glasses of wine and apologizes again for the loud party inside.
“No worries, Tommy. It is pretty nice out here. We were just saying that maybe this could be our new thing. At least on days like this.”
“I don’t think we have to worry about bad weather. We really could use some rain though,” he says. We both nod. The first thing I think of is the winery and how the lack of rain affects their business. I file that away as a question for Carol.
“Maybe we should try something new on the menu. Since we are switching it up tonight, let’s continue the pattern,” Amber says. She reviews the menu and instead of chicken piccata, she picks the chicken parmesan. I opt for the spaghetti with red sauce. We nibble on bread and drink our wine while we wait for our meals.
“So did you really pick K Meadows because I like their wine?” Amber asks. I smile at her.
“Of course. And I’ve talked to the owner, Carol, who is super sweet. You are going to love her. The two of you can nerd out about wine and I can work with Kevin and point out cool video shots he can take.”
“Don’t get me wrong, but why a winery? I mean you kind of complain every time you see a news story about a winery because they are all the same.” I pause for a moment. I knew Amber would ask that. I review the imaginary conversation I had with myself about this very question.
“Carmen wants to do it and I need to figure out how to make it exciting,” I say. I continue tearing pieces of my bread into tiny bites until I have a nice pile of crumbs in front of me.
“I’m sure you will come up with something. You always do.” She holds up her glass of wine and clinks it against mine. “We haven’t been to a winery in forever. Oh, maybe after that we can just head to the beach for the weekend. That sounds heavenly. I could use the time away before the Kraken is unleashed,” she says, referring to the Campbell case her entire company is focusing on. I think it’s a fantastic idea. Then we can celebrate after the proposal.
“Yeah, we don’t even go to the beach that much either. Maybe it can just be a relaxing weekend soaking up the sun before your life gets hectic with the trial. Hopefully, you will still be able to get the weekend off.” At first, I just say that to throw off the importance of the weekend, but then I start to worry.
“Oh, no. I will make sure I have the weekend off, even if I have to work twenty hour days Monday through Thursday. They don’t pay me enough to give them every waking hour or a weekend away with my girlfriend,” she says. She does have a good salary and her steady paycheck is nice. I certainly don’t want to jeopardize her job by my selfishness, and so far, my plan is working nicely. I have a beautiful ring and a place to propose. Hopefully, next week I’ll have a video of the event and a fiancée.
Chapter Five
Too much wine can put a damper on any attempt at a successful seduction. I passed out the moment my head hit the pillow last night, so I have some making up to do. It’s seven thirty Saturday morning. I’m making waffles with strawberries and cream. The coffee is brewing and I’m thinking of frying up some bacon.
“You are wonderful.” Amber slides up behind me, puts her arms around my waist. Her gravelly voice sends a shiver down my spine. Her just-woke-up voice is an instant aphrodisiac for me.
“It was supposed to be breakfast in bed,” I say. I turn so that I’m facing her. “Do you want bacon?” She scoops up some whipped cream with her finger and I watch as she licks it off, oblivious that it’s very sexy. I keep staring at her mouth.
“Bacon sounds wonderful, too,” she says.
“Then get back to bed and let me surprise you,” I say. She laughs and grabs the iPad before heading back into the bedroom. I have the tray loaded with food within ten minutes.
Amber digs into the waffles. “So why are you spoiling me this morning?” At least I think that’s what she says since her mouth is full.
“I didn’t mean to fall asleep last night,” I say.
“I’m pretty sure that’s the point when we go to bed,” she says.
I smile sheepishly at her. “Well, I had other plans.” I run my fingertip on her forearm until she understands what I mean. She leans over and kisses me quickly. It’s obvious that she’s going to finish breakfast before anything is going to happen. I reluctantly take a piece of bacon and munch on it, my mind fast forwarding to next weekend. I can’t wait to start my life with Amber. We are together, but now that marriage is allowed in all fifty states, I want forever with this woman. I’ve already gone over every possible way she could say yes; excitement, joy, tears, laughter. I can’t imagine her saying no.
“What do you want to do today?” I ask. She smiles at me. I grin back. “What else do you want to do today?”
“We could shop or go visit my parents,” she says. I groan.
“Didn’t we just see them last weekend?” I ask. Her mom and stepdad are great, but entirely too clingy. Amber is the baby of the family and her mom is really having a hard time letting go. Tradition dictates that I ask for Amber’s hand in marriage prior to the actual proposal, but there’s an almost one hundred percent risk that her family will spill the beans. I stopped telling them the Christmas gifts I was getting her every year because Amber always knew before we even opened gifts. When I would get mad, she would calm me down and explain they didn’t mean to spoil the surprise. Every year, I would fall for it. No, this time only a few people know what is happening next Friday.
“Yes, but we only saw them for a few minutes,” she says. I’m pretty sure lunch and shopping was more than a few minutes.
“Let’s just invite them to dinner next week or meet them at a restaurant.” I’m trying to compromise. It doesn’t seem to be working. “If you don’t like that idea, then let’s do something with them tomorrow. Maybe we can go on a bike ride.”
I’m really trying to not let the fact that she keeps talking about her parents dampen my fumbling attempts at seducing her. She’s not getting the point. I decide to be bold. I remove the tray from the bed, put it on the floor and slowly crawl my way up the bed. That shuts her up. She smiles at me and slides down so that she is directly underneath me. “I talk too much, don’t I?” she asks. I kiss her and bite her bottom lip and she gasps in surprise.
“I love everything about you. Especially that you talk too much,” I say. I relax on top of her, my body nestled in her warmth. I kiss her slowly, deeply, and I feel her surrender to me. She slides her legs over mine, digging her heels into my calves, pulling me closer. Even after four years, our connection is strong and it makes me weak. I can feel her wetness against me, her shorts slick with want. I waste no time reaching down to please h
er. She pushes against my hand, her eagerness always astounding. Amber embraces her passion and is never shy with her demands or what she wants to do with me.
“Faster,” she says, her body pressing into mine. I lean up on my knees so that I can slip into her easier and faster. Her fingers dig into my shoulders, her moans lost in my hair. I slide three fingers inside her, slowing my movements down until I feel her tightness accept the extra girth. Her moans get deeper so I know she’s ready to come.
“Not yet,” I say. She opens her eyes in confusion as my hand slows to a gentle thrust. The deeper I slip inside her, the more her heels dig into me. I kiss her firmly on her mouth, break away to run my tongue down her throat, over her breasts, and settle between her legs.
“I’m not going to last,” she says. It’s more of a whisper and moan and I smile at the challenge. I gently run my tongue up and down her clit. The barest touch brings her closer to orgasm. I hear her sigh partly out of frustration, partly out of surrender as I pull away and place small kisses on her thighs.
“Yes you are,” I say. It feels like it’s been months since the last time we made love, when in reality, it’s been less than a week. My mind travels back to Monday when we had an impromptu make out session while watching the baseball game. Okay, I was watching the game and Amber came over dressed in white lacy panties, matching bra, and thigh-high stockings and straddled me on the couch. Baseball? Forgotten.
She was the aggressor and I loved every minute of that fiery seduction. Now, I’m the one in control. I take her clit into my mouth and start sucking and running my tongue over the small, sensitive bump. Amber is not quiet as she relinquishes control and her body begs for release. I slide my fingers in and out of her, loving the whimpering breaths of pure pleasure escaping her slightly opened mouth. Her back arches off the bed and I keep moving until I feel her body tense and explode with gratification. I stay inside her to prolong our closeness. Her legs shake against me and I place tiny kisses and pull her knees down so that she is completely relaxed.