by Iris Morland
She didn’t know how much time passed. She lost herself in the pleasure, the orgasm dancing throughout her body. She bucked against his mouth and the hand on her hip. She felt wetness on her thighs and she didn’t care if she were sweaty and flushed. Adam had taken her somewhere she’d never gone before, and Jesus Christ, she almost felt like getting down on her knees and thanking the good Lord for this experience.
He kissed her mound one last time before hoisting himself up, lying down beside her. She gazed at him, and he looked at her, and it was such a strange, terrifying thing that Joy couldn’t—wouldn’t—comprehend it. So she kissed him, tasted herself on his mouth, and wondered how this man had gotten under her skin so quickly and without her even putting up a fight.
Some moments later, Joy felt a blanket wrapping around her. Warm, soft, and comforting, she snuggled deeper into Adam’s embrace. Her body was so heavy and languid, she couldn’t stop her eyelids from fluttering and falling into the deepest sleep she’d had in a long time.
WHEN JOY AWAKENED to her phone dinging the following morning, she thought two things: one, why was she naked? and two: why did she feel like human putty?
Then she remembered: Adam. Adam, kissing, licking, going down on her, and then…leaving? She rubbed her eyes and looked at the time: nine o’clock. When had he left? And why did she feel irritated that he had? They were two consenting adults and there was no shame with having fantastic oral sex and then falling asleep.
Well, she’d received fantastic oral sex. To her mortification, she’d fallen asleep without even trying to reciprocate. Not that she’d had to, but, common courtesy dictated that she at least say thank you.
Her phone sounded again. “Yeah, yeah, I’m coming.” Then she laughed—haha, she sure had come last night! Now she was delirious. She needed some coffee.
And when she picked up her phone and saw who was texting her? Definitely coffee first. Preferably spiked with something.
Joy filled up the pot with water and dumped it in, hardly caring if she ground up enough coffee beans. She was here for the caffeine, not the taste. Plus, you couldn’t get anything better than Folgers here in Heron’s Landing, so acting snobby about coffee was, in a word, pointless.
Sipping the hot, vaguely coffee-tasting brew, she stared at her phone.
Can we talk? the message from Jeremy read.
I don’t know, Jeremy, can we? she thought acerbically. What in the ever-loving hell did her ex want now? Couldn’t she move on without him haunting her every move?
Replying, she wrote, What is there to talk about?
Nothing. Then the three dots. Then…her phone rang.
She stared at it. Was he really calling her? At nine thirty? She considered letting it go to voicemail, but she also knew he wouldn’t let up until he got what he wanted. Better pull the bandage off and get it over with.
“Hello?” she answered. Her tone was neither chipper nor particularly sharp. She had other things on her mind more pressing than Jeremy’s needy bullshit.
“Oh good, you picked up. How are you?”
Despite everything—despite his betrayal, and the fighting, and the end of something she thought had been real—her heart contracted at his voice. She hadn’t heard it for weeks. Months, really. She’d loved his voice, once upon a time: cheery, amusing, always having something to tell her. She’d loved how he’d said her name, too. Jooooy, he’d said, elongating it. Or the nickname he’d given her, Jo-Jo.
Now though, his voice hurt. But it was a faint sting, like one that had faded and only reminded her of its presence occasionally. Not like the pain of the initial breakup.
“I’m good. Why are you calling me?”
He laughed. “Did I wake you? Sorry. I just wanted to see how things were down in Stork’s Landing.”
“Heron’s Landing. And they’re fine. How’s Chicago?”
“Gorgeous, now that it’s summer. But now it’s gotten hot, so you picked a good time to leave. So what have you been up to down there? Still writing?”
Joy didn’t know how to respond to this…banal questioning. Were they really going to act like they had no history? That Jeremy hadn’t cheated on her with her best friend? Like they were cousins who chatted a few times a year about nothing because they had to?
“Yep, still writing. I’m doing a few projects for some of my Chicago clients, and some work here in Heron’s Landing. Nothing extremely exciting.”
She sipped her coffee, wondering how long she’d have to go through the motions. Part of her wanted to ask why Jeremy even cared, but her mind was still too languid from last night. She shivered, her body heating from the mere memory. What Adam could do with his hands and mouth should be illegal.
Jeremy took that response as a sign to tell her all about what he was doing, which she didn’t really give a shit about now. Had he always been this self-centered? Probably. She just hadn’t noticed until that selfishness had been turned on her. He was working primarily for a news agency in Chicago, and was hoping for a promotion soon. The money was just flooding in, he said in a cheerful voice. Joy merely stared at her apartment wall, wondering if she could act like her phone was dying to end this before she killed herself.
“But what kind of projects are you doing?” Jeremy asked her. “Is anything happening in that Podunk little town?” He laughed.
She wished she could give someone the bird through the phone. “I am working on a piece about the vineyard here. Well, trying to. The owner wasn’t really into me doing it, but... You know me.” She didn’t even know what she was saying—just anything to end this conversation.
Jeremy asked a few more questions, and then, finally, he told her he had to go. Joy hung up with a “Thank God” before going to the living room to watch morning television. She had work to get done, but her mind couldn’t concentrate on anything.
It was strange, she thought, having Adam and Jeremy collide in this way. To have Adam come over and kiss her and give her the best orgasm of her life, and then to have Jeremy talk to her like they were still engaged and he wanted to know how she felt about the day-to-day things that couples talked about. Her heart hurt for some odd reason, like she couldn’t figure out how to feel. She didn’t regret what she’d done with Adam, but she also felt a smidgen of fear for letting him to get close to her like this. For letting another man see her vulnerable and aching and pleading. It was easier, she’d thought, to not let anyone get close to her again after Jeremy. But that wasn’t how life worked, was it?
She sipped her coffee, her thoughts tangled. She remembered the look on Adam’s face as he’d touched her. And she wondered if she could expose her heart to him—or if she’d only be filled with regret instead.
10
When Adam woke up just before dawn the following morning, it took him only a nanosecond to realize where he was and what had happened only hours earlier. Plus, the light snoring coming from the woman next to him happened to be a fairly large clue.
Turning over, he gazed at Joy as she slept on, her bright purple hair rumpled and her cheeks flushed with sleep. Her face, softened in repose, made his heart contract in a way he didn’t want to examine too closely. He brushed the hair from her forehead and kissed her in the spot between her eyebrows before getting up. At first he’d considered waking her, but she seemed so at peace that he hated to force her out of her deep sleep.
Not to mention, he didn’t know what he would do if she woke up and smiled at him like she had last night. She had become a bigger weakness than he could’ve ever imagined. But what could come of their relationship? The ghost of his wife haunted him, and he had a difficult time seeing Joy happy in a place like Heron’s Landing for long. He knew she was running from something—someone—and once she figured things out, she’d bolt for brighter, busier places. While he’d stay here, tending the failing vineyard, and wondering if the blood, sweat and tears he put into those vines would ever yield fruit.
He drove home and took a quick shower and changed. He h
ad to be at River’s Bend in a couple of hours to begin events planning, and he needed to be as focused as possible. He couldn’t be seen mooning over a woman. Going to the kitchen, he stopped and gazed at a photo of Carolyn, one taken only a few months before the accident. He picked up the frame, stroking her face. What am I doing? he asked her—asked himself. What should I do, Caro?
Carolyn only smiled back, her eyes creased with happiness. Adam had taken the photo himself, and it’d been the day his dad had given over River’s Bend to him officially, three years prior. He and Carolyn had been so elated that day. She’d also looked so beautiful amongst the crop that he took some photos of her in the sunlight, smiling and beaming.
But those days were long past, even though they didn’t seem like that long ago. Carolyn was gone, the vineyard was failing, and he had slept with—almost slept with, he supposed—another woman who was simultaneously a thorn in his side and a beacon in the darkness.
Arriving at the vineyard, Jaime drove up about the same time as he did. Getting out of his red SUV, Jaime muttered good morning as he made his way inside to begin planning for the day’s menu. Adam’s chef had never been a morning person, preferring to wake up after the sun had long arisen and working well into the night. But that didn’t work with River’s Bend’s schedule; thus, he got to work cranky and tired for a few hours before he perked up and was his usual, charming, sarcastic self.
Seeing Jaime made Adam think of his remarks to Grace, and he winced. What had gotten into him, to mess with his younger sister’s emotions like that? He knew he’d wanted to deflect his problems and move them onto her. That didn’t make it fair or right, and he knew he owed her a real apology. He also wondered if Grace would ever act on her infatuation, or would she stand in the shadows, longing but never touching? Adam shook his head. For one, his sister’s love life was not anything he wanted to think about, and two, he had much bigger problems to tackle. Grace was a big girl; she could handle herself.
The entire team got together—Jaime, Leah, Kerry, and Chris—and began a strategy for planning their first event. Kerry had already put together various social media pages, not yet launched, while Leah had actually put out feelers for anyone potentially interested in doing events at the vineyard. “We’d be better off starting with someone local,” Leah said in her usual flat tones. “Someone who doesn’t expect bells and whistles.”
Adam would’ve rather gone outside the community, as Heron’s Landing was too insular to begin with, but it was a start. Leah gave him some names, including Sadie Parsons and Tanya Eckhart, both recently engaged and looking around for potential wedding venues. Adam knew Sadie somewhat, as she’d gone to school with Grace, while he had only met Tanya a few times, as she’d moved out of town after high school before returning recently. Both, he knew, were good, country kinds of girls. But would they even have the funds to pay what River’s Bend would need to be successful? Tension roiled in Adam’s gut, and a headache threatened to build in his temples.
He also knew that he had to reach out to potential candidates himself. Calling both Sadie and Tanya, he spoke to them about their ideas regarding their weddings and their interest in doing it at River’s Bend. Both were excited and happy to talk all day about their weddings and their fiancés, and their happiness couldn’t help but rub off on Adam somewhat. By the end of the day, he felt more optimistic about the entire venture—and couldn’t wait to talk to Joy about it, either.
As Adam was about to leave, though, he saw Jaime staring at his phone, his brow furrowed.
“Bad news?” Adam asked.
Jaime glanced up, and then shook his head. “No, just…frustrating news. You know my parents are working on becoming citizens? Well, there’s always some other fee to pay, some other hoop to jump through.” He rubbed his forehead. “Their English is good, but sometimes the legalese goes over their heads and they need me to translate. Too bad I’m just a chef, not a lawyer.”
“Any way I can help?”
Jaime smiled a little. “Not really, but thanks for the offer. Unless you can reform the entire shit-tastic citizenship process, that is. You’d think having a son who’s an American citizen would help, but no. Of course not.”
Adam didn’t reply to that, but he knew Jaime’s parents’ situation weighed on him. His father worked as a professor of biochemistry at the University of Iowa, while his mom had run her own small retail business for decades. They’d emigrated from El Salvador before Jaime had been born, luckily able to come to the United States legally with the university sponsoring Jaime’s father for a work visa. But that didn’t mean becoming citizens was any easier, and it had been such an arduous, lengthy process that Adam couldn’t imagine how stressful it had been for the entire Martínez family.
As the two men were about to get into their separate cars, another car showed up and parked. Adam watched as Grace stepped out, a bag in hand, humming underneath her breath. When she saw Adam, she waved; when she saw, Jaime, she froze and looked so much like a deer in headlights that Adam wanted to take her home and give her a drink.
“Adam, Jaime,” she said, glancing at Jaime but focusing solely on Adam. “I was just dropping off Kerry’s sweater. She left it at my place this weekend, and the vineyard’s closer than her house, so…”
Grace was so pointedly ignoring Jaime that Adam winced inwardly, but he only said, “She’s just inside.”
“Okay, great. I was afraid I was going to miss her. Thanks.” She turned, blushing, and said, “How are you, Jaime?”
Jaime had been looking off into the distance, and it took him a second to realize Grace was speaking to him. “Oh, fine. You still painting?”
She nodded, her chin tucked into her chest. She clutched her bag to her stomach like a shield.
When she still said nothing, Jaime just raised a dark eyebrow and said, “Well, I gotta go.” He chucked Grace under the chin. “You be good, huh, kid?”
The sound of Jaime driving off was the only one for a moment as Grace and Adam stood next to each other. Adam heard Grace’s breath hiccup, and he was terrified she’d start crying.
“That was so bad,” she whispered.
“It wasn’t…not really.” He was lying—so he stopped talking.
“He sees me as a little kid. Oh God, and I act like one too!” She whirled on Adam, saying in a harsh whisper, “Do not tell anyone about this, you got it? No. One.” She stalked into the building behind them, Adam at a loss for words.
He hated seeing his sister unhappy, but he also couldn’t encourage a romance between her and his employee. He rubbed his temples. Maybe Joy would know how to handle this. At the thought of her, he perked up—in more places than one.
If he drove faster than usual as a result to get to her place, he would never, ever admit it.
“SO HOW WAS WORK TODAY?” Joy asked as she poured Adam a glass of wine from the bottle he’d brought over yesterday. She seemed in good spirits, smiling as she opened the door for him and even kissing him before he entered. He’d taken that as a good sign, and they may have kissed in the doorway longer than necessary.
“We’re going forward with the events. I still don’t love the idea, but it’s pretty much all we have right now.” He swirled the wine, inhaling its notes before sipping it. “I even talked to potential brides.”
Joy raised her eyebrows. “You did? You didn’t make them cry, did you?”
“No, they were very happy to consider my services.”
“Look at you, charming women left and right. Next you’ll be blogging about weddings and talking about the best dresses for the season.”
“There are seasons for dresses?” At her look, he grinned. He couldn’t help it: she brought something out in him that no one had in a long time. Even Carolyn. Reaching for Joy, he took her into his arms, nuzzling her neck. She smelled heavenly, and had the softest skin. “Are you wearing perfume?” he asked, curious suddenly.
“Mmmm, yes. I bought a new kind before I left Chicago—Chloé by Chlo�
�. Very original, no?”
“You smell like flowers.” He inhaled. He’d been trained to detect subtle notes of fragrance in wines, and found himself able to do so similarly for perfumes. “I smell rose, maybe a layer of cedarwood? And amber.”
She looked up at him, her eyes wide. “How did you—? That’s impressive. I think there’s also honey and peony, if I remember correctly.”
He kissed up her throat, no longer caring about the various notes of the perfume. “You also taste like sugar.”
“That’s probably the Dial soap I bought from Mike’s.”
When he pinched her, she giggled.
Although he could’ve taken her on the counter right then—just like last night—he backed away. Brushing her hair behind her ear, he asked, “How long did you live in Chicago?”
Her expression became shuttered. She looked away, suddenly invested in the plate of crackers she’d set out. “For about seven years,” she finally said. “I grew up in Springfield, Illinois, as a kid but moved to Chicago after college.”
“And you were a journalist in Chicago, too?”
“Freelance writer, journalist, barista, dog walker, you name it, I did it. When you’re young, you think the world’s your oyster and that even if a city is expensive, you’ll figure it out.” She smiled a little. “I was poor, but happy. I think that’s the best part of your twenties, you know? Figuring out shit and doing whatever, never knowing what the next day will bring.”
Adam couldn’t really agree, as he’d known since he was a kid that he’d take over River’s Bend and run the family business. He’d also known he’d marry a good woman like Carolyn, stay in Heron’s Landing, and have a few kids. The usual kind of thing—just like his father. But now Carolyn was gone, he had no children, and the vineyard was failing as he stood here with Joy in his arms. Maybe if he’d been as free as Joy had been in his early twenties, he wouldn’t feel so at sea when things hadn’t gone exactly as planned.