Last Kiss
I’m on a plane. Don’t ask me why I’m on a plane, this is not a well thought out plan. I just felt like I need to go. I need to clarify everything. I really don’t even remember getting to the airport because I was in a weird haze of Magic. A magic haze…
Even though you ladies refused to repeat my mantra from last night, I didn’t sleep with Magic. I think he was pretty shocked by that as well, but I’m just getting to be okay by myself and he left me standing there naked. Also, there is a little situation I need to address. When Magic dropped me off at my car, he cupped my ass and nibbled my ear, promising me so many things he was going to do to my body. I got in my car and drove straight to the airport.
I crack open a book and escape my own thoughts.
I blink and I’m standing in front of Peter’s house. My hand raises and I knock on the door. I didn’t warn him I was coming, I didn’t even think to make sure he was in town or at his house. Lights shine through the window, and I hear light murmuring. Fuck, I’m interrupting something. Why didn’t I text him? It’s like I’m waking up from a fog, I’m an idiot. I creep off the porch and I’m in front of his neighbor’s house when I hear him call from his steps.
I hang my head in agony of blatant disregard for both of us. He jogs over to where I’m standing. He’s smiling.
“Hey, what are you doing here?” He raises his hand to my hair.
“I honestly don’t know,” I admit.
He looks back at his house. There’s a woman in his house. Why would there be a woman at his house if he was trying to make things work with me? As soon as I ask myself the question I realize it’s fine. I don’t even feel a twinge of hurt. It confirms my decision to come here and end things, face to face.
“Peter, I don’t know why I came, but I felt like I owed it to you to just clarify things.”
He moves his hand up to my cheek. I lean into it one last time.
“We’re going to make this work Megan. I’m looking into taking the bar in July in California. I want to really try to make a go of it.” I feel like this is a lie he’s sold himself.
I sigh and there is a tug of war going on in my brain. Realistically, I know we’re done, but real love is hard to walk away from and this is the third time I’ve had to make myself do it. I loved him so much that the residue of it is strong. It confuses me and gives the illusions of love, but it’s not real anymore.
“You know when we broke up the first time and you came out here, I obsessed about our last kiss. You don’t even get to plan your last kiss, you know? It just happens then there is ripping of the relationship. You don’t get a redo.”
He sighs. “Megan.” His thumb strokes my cheek. I close my eyes and remember our first kiss. It was passionate and tentative, if a kiss can be both of those things.
“Just let me finish. When you broke up with me I obsessed for about a year about our last kiss. Do you remember it? I do. You grazed my lips with yours before graduation. I mourned that there was no final kiss full of desire and love, my hands running through your hair. It was just a chaste rubbing of lips. It didn’t have us in it. It broke my heart over and over. Well, we’ve fixed that now.”
His eyes reflect hurt as what I’m saying registers.
I take a shaky breath. “I’m pretty sure our last kiss now is full of lust and regret, which is fitting. I loved you Peter, but when you left me you molded me into something I’m trying to change. I really hope you’re happy. I hope you find the woman of your dreams.”
“I did…” His words are lifted in the wind and get stuck in the snow clouds in the inky sky.
“I wanted to tell you in person that things are done with us. I really do want what’s best for you and it’s not me.”
Now he doesn’t have one fucking word to say, but really there isn’t anything to add. I turn and walk toward the cab that’s still waiting for me, and I take it straight back to the airport to catch another flight back to California with my conscience clear.
Chapter Seventy
Paint Me a Picture
I have on jeans with my Frye knee high boots and a tank top with a sweatshirt over it. The weather can be warm one minute, cold the next. I’m waiting on Magic. He told me to meet him at the vineyard and I’m starting to get annoyed. I’m habitually early, which is really annoying if anyone is five minutes late because I’ve already been there for fifteen minutes. I see his truck rumbling down the dirt road, a cloud of brown smoke trailing the tires as he pulls up to the gate.
Hopping out, his face smiles. I say that because someone can smile and it’s just their mouth, this smile is everything. It even touches his temples and it eases my annoyance, and I smile back. My heart warms because his face smile is because of me.
“Hey,” he says as he goes to the gate and unlocks it. He pushes the gate back and walks toward me. “Let me help you in the truck, seeing as you tend to have issues with that.” He winks.
“I’m perfectly capable of getting in your truck,” I retort and walk myself over and climb in. He cups my ass to “help” me. I slap his hands away. I’m facing forward and he pulls my knees around so I’m facing him. He pushes my legs apart and leans his hips in.
“I know you’re perfectly capable, I just wanted to touch you. Is that okay?” He’s got a twinkle in his eye that was absent when he dropped me off at my car. I like it. I want to keep it there. I put my hands on his shoulders and nod. I don’t know why, but I can’t say anything. This moment feels so big, this day feels like such a deal breaker. The butterflies in my stomach have had families and they are all flying around my gut.
He uses his thumb to trace my jaw and then pulls my chin toward him. His lips land on mine with intensity and he uses his teeth to nip at my bottom lip and then his tongue enters my mouth. I moan and my head goes back. He trails his finger down my throat to the middle of my chest then up my right inner thigh. As his finger goes underneath the hem of my shirts another truck pulls down the dirt road, and we snap to attention. His hands leave my body.
“Who is that?” I ask, sort of breathless.
“Oh, that’s Jonny. I asked him to come out for a few minutes and check some things for me.” Walker steps away from me and runs a hand through his hair. “Hey man, thanks for coming out. Go ahead and get started. I’ll be right there.”
The truck drives past, and I see the smirk on the man’s face as he looks at me. This helps me get my wits about me. “So what are we doing?”
“We are going to eat lunch.” Magic closes the door and then walks around to the driver’s side. The sides of his hair are curling around his cap and he lifts it up and pulls it back down on his head.
“Okay.” My nerves are buzzing at his proximity. I’ve really never had such a visceral reaction to a man before and it’s disconcerting. I need to calm the fuck down. He fucks a lot of women, I’m just one of those women. This is not so much of a pep talk as one to lower my expectations. I want this but don’t want to really allow myself to want it.
“Thanks for coming,” he says and it sounds sincere.
“Thanks for asking,” I retort.
He pulls my hand from my leg and puts it on his.
“What are we doing Walker?”
“Let’s just eat. Okay?” He pulls behind Jonny’s truck. “Stay here for a minute, I’m going to check in with him and then we’ll have lunch.”
As I watch his really nice ass walk into the barn looking building, I pull my phone out. Justin sent me a text.
You’re good to go. Laura got funds transferred and is making play now.
I don’t know what it is about Magic, I mean he’s nice to look at, but he seems like a kindred spirit of sorts. He’s standoffish at first, but his back-story has me wanting to know more about him. He was in the race to the top of his field when his dreams were derailed. Now he’s trying to make a go of this winery for his dad. I want to help him. Maybe he’ll let me.
Walker pulls his ball cap that reads “Kingston Vineyard�
�� down on his head again, it seems like a nervous tick and he smiles at the truck. When he gets in he pulls my hand back to his right thigh, like that’s where it belongs. He drives about a mile through the grapes trellised in rows and up the incline until there is a clearing.
“Do you ever get tired of this view?” I ask, looking out over the acres of grapevines.
“You bet your ass I do. This shit isn’t for pussies. I’m broke, exhausted, and way out of my league.” As soon as the words escape his mouth he looks confused, like he can’t believe he actually said it out loud. He adjusts his hat. “Wow, I can’t believe I said that.”
“I guess you needed to.” I open the door and stand there while he grabs some bags out of the back of his truck. Then he grabs my hand and leads me to an area that has the most amazing view of the winery and vines. “Maybe you need someone to listen who wouldn’t judge you. I won’t judge you for complaining, everyone needs to complain every once and awhile.”
“You have this effect on me, it’s like truth serum. I’m not sure that’s a good thing.” He spreads what looks like an old school quilted blanket on the ground.
“Where did you get this?”
“Oh, it was my dad’s or my grandmother’s,” he answers and then sits down. He starts pulling things from his bag. He pulls out two wine bottles. “Red or white?”
“Ummmmm.” I look around.
“You don’t care?” He looks baffled.
“I’m easy.” I laugh.
“I’ve been hoping,” he says as he unscrews the bottle of red.
I know what you’re thinking, he totally got the cheapest wine, it has a screw top. I’ve been told this is the new way of bottling. After inspection of the bottle, the wine that he pours into two stemless glasses is Kingston Cellars Pinot Noir.
“You brought your wine?” I’m excited because I know this is the first batch. I hope it’s great, for him, because he’s great and he’s been working so hard.
“This is one of a couple of bottles we’ve done.” He grins. “I hope you like it.”
“I’m sure I will.” I need to like this, I want to invest in this company, it better be good.
“Will you sit down, you’re making me nervous?” he asks as he pulls out a few containers, two sandwiches, and a bag of chips. Popping the tops of one of the containers I see chicken salad. Then he pulls his phone out and turns on music. His phone buzzes, but he ignores it.
“Do you have a make out playlist?” I joke and sit down next to him.
“Of course, don’t you?”
“Well, anything by Jodeci…” I admit.
“Wait, are you kidding?” He lets out the loudest laugh. “You like to make out to 90’s music? Should I pull out Ginuwine? R. Kelly?”
“R. Kelly? Fuck no, that won’t work…” I take a sip of wine. I beam so big I think my face may break in two. The fruit taste bursts in my mouth, and then there is a subtle earthy lingering flavor. “This is really good Walker, congratulations.” When I look over, he’s tapping a million buttons on his phone. “What’re you doing?”
About that time, I hear music that makes me smile. “Ah, no one can belt like Devante…” I sigh.
“You know their names?” He laughs. “How old are you?”
“Twenty-eight,” I say. Who is Jodeci? Look them up people, they will sing your panties off. That’s just me…okay, I may have an unhealthy obsession with them.
“Why do you even know who this group is?”
“My older sister loved them, and then I became obsessed with them. When they covered the song Lately…I don’t know. Panty dropping.” I giggle.
His eyes grow and then darken. “I’ll play whatever you want if you’ll be dropping your panties.”
He leans into me and his lips claim mine. He forces me to lie back and he hovers over me while assaulting me with the most delicious kisses. I lose myself in the music and his touch. When I finally come back down to Earth, I realize he’s rolled me over and I’m on top of him without a shirt on. I look around frantically.
“No one’s around,” his voice sounds hoarse.
“Well, I don’t want Jonny to see me.” I still have a bra on, so I’m covered, but I don’t want to put on a show.
“He won’t.” He comforts and pulls me down for another kiss, and I can’t help but notice food is spread all over the blanket. I’m pretty sure he has chicken salad in his hair.
“Um, you have food in your hair,” I say, pulling out a clump and flinging it in the grass.
“I don’t care,” he answers gruffly and rolls me over so I’m now rolling in the food.
“Shit,” I mutter as I feel food in my hair and smash into my back, then I feel his hands on my thighs and my brain dissipates again. Everywhere he touches me causes sparks to fly and it’s like an arrow shooting straight to my vagina. “You have a little food in your hair,” he whispers into my ear.
I unbutton his pants.
“I think it’s chicken salad,” he continues.
I grab his dick.
He lets out a breath through his teeth.
I let go for a minute because I’m frantically trying to get his shirt off. He helps me and I run my fingertips over his chest and circle one over his heart, which is beating as rapidly as mine.
“Megan, this is crazy,” he pants.
“I know, we can stop.” I don’t mean a word of that.
“No,” he grunts. “We can’t.” He sits back on his knees and pulls off my boots and then pulls my jeans and underwear down in one motion. “Oh shit…”
He immediately buries his face in the apex of my legs and my back arches at the first caress of his tongue. My hands thread through his hair, and my body grinds against his lips.
“Walker,” I call his name until I’m breathless and have no voice. “Oh shit,” I moan and he makes his way up my body. He kisses me on the lips, and then reaches behind me for a cracker.
“You were exactly what I wanted for lunch,” he says and then sits back, chewing on the cracker and picking up his shirt.
I’m stunned. “What’s happening?” I ask confused.
“I don’t have a condom Megan. I definitely wasn’t planning on this.”
“You stupid, stupid man,” I mutter. “I’m on the pill,” I say hopefully. I think in the back of my mind he has sex with everything that walks, why wouldn’t he have a condom?
He pins me with his eyes. “You are?”
“Since I was sixteen.” I nod, the wind is not helping my sense of vulnerability. “At least hover over me until we decide if you are not going to fuck me.”
He is on top of me again in a heartbeat. “You’re okay with that?”
“Are you clean? Have you used condoms with everyone?”
“Always,” he licks my bottom lip and puts a finger inside me, and then drags it out and around.
My head spins then falls backward.
“Megan…”
“Now,” I almost shout. “Inside me, now.” Stupid, stupid girl. I can hear y’all.
He doesn’t waste any time complying with that request and I have another orgasm with just him inside me and his finger painting me a picture of a flower or tracing the alphabet or whatever the fuck he’s doing, but I’m yelling again except this time it’s cuss words and then about God. I feel him swell inside me and then he stills.
“You feel perfect,” he whispers as he erupts and we lie there, naked on the ground covered in food and sweat.
“Magic,” I whisper. Because I feel like I’m in some sort of fairytale land where a good guy gives me orgasms on a bed of roses and things are perfect.
“What?” His voice pulls me from my fantasy.
I pull a piece of cheese off my shoulder and try to find a cracker. “I think we should eat like this all the time.”
He rolls off of me and wipes a glob of chicken salad from my neck and pops it in his mouth. “I can agree to that.”
Chapter Seventy-One
Omissions Aren’t Re
ally Lies
I’m daydreaming about Walker when the music suddenly stops due to my earbuds being pulled from my ears.
“You’re listening to Doin’ It, by L.L. Cool J?” Laura asks as she looks down on me.
I’m working on the computer in our office. I snatch my earbud back and turn off the music. “What?”
“Well, he took the investment, on the contingency he could meet the investor in person. I told him that couldn’t happen until after Christmas.”
“Bought me some time, I like it.” I don’t like to keep these sort of things from him, but I just want to help and I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t take money from me, or I wouldn’t want him to knowingly take money from me or something...“You wired the money already?”
“Ten seconds before I realized you were fantasizing about fucking our latest investment,” Laura answers.
My phone rings, its Walker. I look at Laura.
“I bet he has good news,” she comments, walking over to her desk.
I tap the decline button. It’s hard enough lying to him. “Did you see that proposal I sent to you about the jewelry? She calls her company Delusions of Grandeur. I mean, that’s a name, right?” I change the subject.
“Oh, I did see that. I’m intrigued.”
“Me too.”
My phone buzzes with a text.
We have to celebrate. I have an investor.
“So when do I tell him it’s me?” I ask more to myself than Laura, but I’ll take any advice she has to offer.
“I don’t know,” she hedges. “Max says this money will give them what they need to distribute and also have a grand opening on New Year’s Eve.”
“You told Max?” I’m livid. If he knows what we do, give loans to small companies that can’t find investors then he may put two and two together.
“Not really, I was just asking about Walker. He asked if we’d be interested in investing, and I told him we entertain all proposals. I don’t think he has any idea we are investing.”
“Oh, okay. Don’t tell him. I want to tell Walker in my own way.”
“I know Megan. We just need to make sure he knows before the party, okay?”
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