Sunshine & Whiskey

by R. L. Griffin

  “Yes, the stars must align for earth shattering orgasms. I mean I don’t think I had an orgasm, full on orgasm until I was twenty-two.”

  “What do you mean? You didn’t have an orgasm when you lost your virginity?” She mocks despair.

  “Nope, did you?”

  “No, I don’t think I know anyone who did, unless you count characters in books. They come the first time, every time, and usually at the same time as the male character, which is the worst form of fiction.”

  I sigh.

  “Do you think it’s because you didn’t want to fall in love and you did and your body is telling you this is the one, girl. This one is tear worthy. He will fuck you and love you and you won’t want him to stop.”

  I swallow the enormous gulp of gelato I just shoved in my mouth and think hard. I shake my head. I’m not ready to admit all of that. If you admit it, then it spawns a life on its own, and I haven’t wrapped my brain around what’s going on with me and Walker.

  “Oh Megan,” she sighs. “You don’t need to do that. Why don’t you just be honest with him? Tell him everything...tell him you love him.”

  “How can I love him? I hardly know him.”

  “You know him.”

  “I don’t.”

  “I mean rationally, I get it. You loved Peter, loved. You don’t love him anymore. You can open your heart again. I know it’s soon and Walker is complicated and you’re complicated, but why not try?”

  “Because I just want to be by myself for awhile. I’m afraid if I admit my feelings I’ll go full out like I always do, dive into him.”

  “You can date. He should take you on more dates, preferably into the hills of the vineyard.”

  “I’m pretty sure he doesn’t trust me.”

  “Make him trust you.”

  “I may need your help.”

  Laura drinks the rest of her beer. “I think I know how to solve all of our issues in one night.”

  Chapter Seventy-Seven

  Plan in Effect

  I pull at the hem at my short dress, I’ve started running again, so my legs look amazing in my nude strappy heels. It’s a pink silk short sleeve mini-dress, the chest is sheer with beading on it. I pull on my gray cashmere coat over the dress, it’s longer than the dress by several inches. This is all part of Laura’s “plan.” I’m waxed all over. I look like a twelve year old girl down there, and I cried more that hour than in my entire life.

  Laura and I are picking up Max on the way to the New Year’s Eve Party at Kingston Vineyards. It’s their grand opening. I am so excited for Walker, but anxious because I haven’t heard from him.

  Laura walks out of my second bedroom in a long tight white halter dress with a slit in the side so high it’s almost indecent. She’s wearing kelly green heels and bright red lipstick.

  “You can’t have any undergarments on,” I comment.

  “And?”

  “Well, Max may shit himself when he sees you.”

  “That’s not the reaction I’m going for.” She smirks. “I’m hoping there will be some touching. I need him to touch me.”

  “He’s a gentleman,” I offer.

  “I appreciate that, but now I just need to be touched. He needs to do it, or I’ll get someone else to help me out with that situation.”

  “Got it.” I try not to ask too many questions about this situation, she’s snapped at me every time I’ve tried.

  Headlights of the car flash through the house, and I exhale in relief. I don’t have to talk to her anymore about Max touching her.

  We walk into the party and the lighting is perfect. There are white lights strung through all of the trellises leading up to the warehouse, along with any trees you can see from the drive in. I gasp at how lovely it is. Sometimes there is only one word to describe what you are seeing. Lovely isn’t a word I typically use, but it’s a delicate display of rustic beauty and it’s the only word that works. A light strum of guitar chords carries on the wind, and I pull my coat tighter around me.

  “This is amazing,” Laura comments.

  “Yeah, he told me his plans. I think you ladies will love it.”

  I’m silent. The warehouse has two huge garage type doors that are open and there are mason jars hanging as lanterns and candles on barrels lining the work space. There are people everywhere. All sorts of people, men in suits and women in cocktail dresses to men in jeans and work boots. The area smells of oak and red wine and it alone is intoxicating.

  Walker steps in front of Max as we enter the space. He hands Max a glass of burgundy liquid, and then comes back with two more for Laura and me. I smile tightly. His expression is blank. His wall is back, and I want to tear it down and tell him I love him. I don’t even know that I do, but I want to see if it’s there. I know it’s there, right underneath the scary part of beginning. Just past the knowledge that letting myself love him could allow him to hurt me. I have a gut feeling he won’t hurt me, but I’m willing to let him. I think all of this while I take a sip of his exquisite wine.

  “Megan.” He nods. “Laura.” Then he turns and walks off.

  Laura looks at me and sticks her hip out to the right. “What the fuck? That dress would make any man hard.”

  Max clears his throat, uncomfortable.

  “It’s okay Max. He can’t forgive me. I get it. I’m just really happy we were able to help this happen.” I walk over to where I see Clara standing at a barrel eating hors d’oeuvres. I hug her and she beams from ear to ear.

  “Walker’s father would be so happy.”

  I nod and watch Magic sprinkle a little bit of himself around the room. Everywhere he goes people smile and tell him how fantastic the wine tastes. I love him.

  I blink.

  I mean.

  What?

  Before I have a second to think about the surety of this reality currently invading my brain, I hear people clinking their glasses.

  Magic walks to an area that’s a little raised. He has an expression on his face that I’ve never seen before, and it looks like unadulterated joy.

  “First of all, I just want to thank every single one of you for being here to help celebrate making my dad’s dream come true. This was never my dream. I dreamed of other things…” A quiet laugh spreads through the crowd. “But, you embraced me as I set out on this journey. I can tell you it was so much harder than I thought. It makes me respect everyone out here who does this every day. It makes me respect myself more. I’ve dug in the dirt. I’ve destemmed. I’ve tried wine that no one should drink. Don’t worry, we threw it out.” More laughing. “I wouldn’t have been able to achieve this lofty dream of my dad’s without most of you in here. Vincent was picked by my dad and has saved my ass on a number of occasions. Jonny, you can do no wrong. I appreciate everything you’ve done for me. Everything. My band of misfits.” He points his glass at every single person I met on Thanksgiving in a cheers. Max is last and he returns the cheers gesture with a sincere smile on his face. “You people are my family. The people I lean on if I were to need that sort of thing. From the bottom of my heart, thank you.”

  “Does this mean free wine?” Max calls out.

  “This means anything you need from me, you got it. One other group to thank and I’ll get Jeff back up here to play.” He looks at me and Laura. “There are two special people here who without them I wouldn’t have been able to bottle any wine. I wouldn’t have been able to have this celebration, and my dad would have had to wait a little longer for his dream. Megan and Laura,” he raises his glass in cheers, “cheers.”

  I blink.

  I don’t cry in public.

  He may forgive me.

  Laura bumps my arm. “It was totally the dress,” she whispers.

  Chapter Seventy-Eight

  A Beginning

  The rest of the night goes quickly and I don’t see Magic for most of it. I do hear all about the things he’s done, he’s quite the silent champion of people here. When he did have money, he gave back. It
solidifies my opinion of him. I’m not drunk, but I could be in one more glass.

  Laura looks at her watch. “It’s two, you ready?”

  “Where’s Max?”

  “I don’t care. I’m tired and my feet hurt. These shoes are hot, but are like knives stabbing me right now.”

  “I’ll carry you,” Max offers, appearing out of nowhere and sweeping my friend off her feet. She giggles. He walks her to where the car is waiting and I begin to follow.

  I feel him grab my arm as I’m almost out of the warehouse. Don’t even think I don’t know it’s him. “You’re coming with me,” he whispers in my ear.

  I hear Brown Sugar filtering through the speakers in his den and my heart warms. He created a playlist for me. I’m sipping on whiskey as Walker comes back into the room. The fire is popping and it’s almost too warm, or that might be the alcohol. Walker’s den is dark wood paneling with jewel tone accents scattered around the room.

  “I’m mad at you,” he says honestly from the door.

  My face drops. I thought he was going to give me a pass. He’s playing music for me, he has my favorite whiskey.

  “I’m sorry,” I apologize again.

  “Thank you.”

  My eyes that were staring into the amber liquid in my glass look up to find him just steps away from me. I’m not sure what he’s thanking me for.

  “If you hadn’t invested that money, I wouldn’t have been able to do it Megan. I couldn’t have done this without you.”

  I take another sip of my whiskey, it’s going down really easy now.

  “If you hadn’t worn that dress, I wouldn’t have known how badly I wanted to take it off you. I wouldn’t have understood you were just trying to help. I would’ve forgotten the whiskey I bought just for you. The playlist I have on my phone, just for you.”

  He steps closer to me. I step back. I don’t know why. “I invested because I thought it was a good investment, and obviously I was right.”

  “I’m going to pay you back quickly, I don’t want my girlfriend to be involved in my business.”

  “Your girlfriend?”

  He pulls me into his arms and we dance as the music changes over to Keith Sweat, and I feel my insides smile. Can insides do that? I don’t know if it’s my heart, brain, or vagina, but one of them is very happy.

  I feel Walker unzip my dress and part the fabric. He pulls my dress apart and lets it fall to the ground. I stand there in my pink strapless bra, matching lace panties, and of course my heels. He walks around me and I feel his fingertips on my spine. His touch sends shivers throughout my body. Then he kneels behind me. I tense until I feel his lips on my spine, then lower. Then he takes my foot in his hand and takes off my heel, then he does the same to the other foot. He is licking and biting my back and my head is falling backward. Sounds are escaping my mouth on their own accord, and my hand searches for my own release.

  Walker blocks my frantic search. “I’ll handle that.” He pulls down my panties and stands, reaching around my body, palming both of my breasts. “Everything,” he whispers. He turns me around and pulls me into his body and he still has his dapper graphite suit on. His head is at my chest and he takes my nipple in his mouth. I pull at his yellow tie.

  “Walker,” I whisper.

  He looks up at me.

  “Why are you wearing clothes?”

  “I’ll get to it.” He picks me up and lays me down on the carpet in front of the fire. My back arches with every strum of his fingers. He plays my body like he’s been memorizing it for years. I decide right then, I want to practice with him for years. The possibilities are endless.

  Four Thousand Fifty-Nine Miles

  Two Hundred Sixty-Two Million Dollars

  Two Mustangs

  One Best Friend

  One Possibility

  Epilogue

  I’m sweating. My hair is piled on my head and I’m on my stomach in the tattoo chair. Laura’s feet are kicked up on the couch to my right. We’re in San Francisco because she wants to go to Alcatraz. We haven’t done too many tourist things in San Francisco since we’ve been here. We’re going to spend the night and meet with a client flying in from Portland, Oregon, the one who makes the most amazing jewelry. I’m looking forward to meeting her in person.

  I exhale slowly as the pain starts to mount in my neck.

  Darren’s left hand is bracing my neck while his other is using the tattoo gun with precision. He’s Max’s tattoo guy, and I trust Max because he has about forty tattoos. Laura gets up and walks over to the chair, leaning over me.

  “I didn’t know you were getting a butterfly?”

  I try to lift up, Darren lets the tattoo gun fall to the right and laughs.

  “I mean you should’ve gotten it on your lower back, but it works.”

  “Wait.” I turn to face her. “You’re an asshole.”

  “You’re the one who is getting a tattoo because you love someone…”

  “What does that have to do with being an asshole?”

  “I’m okay with my position in life, are you okay with being sappy-in-love-girl?”

  A grin threatens to crack my face. I put my head back on the cushion. “Yep.” It’s muffled, but I know she heard me.

  “You guys are annoying.” Laura saunters back to the couch and sits back with her Kindle and begins to read again.

  No, I’m not getting a butterfly on my neck. I have to tell you, I’ve never been so happy in my life. It took a while, but I feel like I’m me. It’s a different me than what I ever imagined for myself, but it’s a happiness that settles in my gut and spreads to my limbs. It threatens to take flight every time I think of Walker. He hasn’t made me happy, I did that on my own. Walker is like the chocolate icing on the peanut butter cupcake. It makes my life better, and I’m sure I would miss him tremendously if he weren’t around. I miss his steely gaze when I don’t see him for a few hours. It’s sappy and annoying and breathtaking and amazing.

  When he touches me I feel like I’m going to catch fire. I hope I do that for him. He’s the first man that I want to make sure he knows how much I want him. I try to make that known all the time.

  I close my eyes, and I can feel his newly grown beard on my inner thighs from this morning. My eyes whip open when the tattoo gun stops, and Darren dabs the spot right below my hairline.

  “Okay Megan, you want to take a look?”

  He holds a mirror up so I can look in a bigger mirror and see the tattoo that I had him draw for me. In a copper color that matches my freckles, it reads: “I believe in fire and Magic.”

  No, I’ve never told Walker that’s what I called him. Can you imagine his ego if he knew that? The only people who know that little gem are Laura and Justin.

  “It’s perfect.”

  “Is that massive redness going to be there forever? Is that part of the tattoo?”

  “Shut it.” Because my skin is super white it’s magenta around the words. “How much do I owe you?”

  Darren shrugs. “Gina will ring you up. Tell Max I said he needs to get in here for me to finish his leg.”

  “Will do.” I shake his hand. I quickly pay, and Laura and I get in her car and head to our hotel.

  “Are you going to tell Walker that he’s magic and you believe in him?”

  “No.” I don’t think couples need to know everything about each other. This tattoo could mean I believe in the magic that brought us together. That the fire I feel in my belly when he looks at me a certain way is what I want to feel my entire life. It sort of does mean that. I need to have some secrets, you know.

  I blink awake as I hear the front door close. Pulling my phone from the bedside table I check to see it’s one in the morning. Owning a business is no joke, Walker has been at work past midnight every night this week. He said he would try to get by tonight if it wasn’t too late. I have the windows open because it’s been perfect spring weather, and there is a silver light filtering through the room from the full moon. Walker and I
have been hot and heavy since New Year’s and I long to see him every day. I’m almost sick of myself being so in love, but this doesn’t stop my body from buzzing at his nearness.

  Climbing out of bed, I pull on one of his shirts that’s draped over a chair in my bedroom. I pad out and see him standing in the kitchen, lit up in the majestic moonlight. It’s almost like he’s glowing. His eyes are tired, but he smiles at me as he takes a long pull of wine from the glass he poured himself.

  “I like you in my shirts.”

  I push my hair out of my face.

  “As a matter of fact, I like you in my shirt better than I like me in my shirt.”

  There is a crackling in the air and I inhale deeply. He sets his glass on the counter. I take him in. His work boots are scuffed and are a good example of the hard work he’s putting into his winery. His jeans are worn in all the right places, and I can see he’s aroused. He’s wearing a grey henley long sleeve shirt that shows off the curves of his biceps and the lines of his forearms There are stains all over the front of his shirt, and if I didn’t know where he worked I’d be worried it is blood.

  “You look like you killed someone,” I say. My voice is thick with sleep. I walk over to him and push the hem of his shirt up his abdomen and over his head. I drop kisses on his chest, the ridges of his stomach, and my hands unbutton his jeans. Chill bumps spread across his skin, and I spread my fingers and trace imaginary lines. His hands go into my hair and tug my head back, exposing my neck. He runs his tongue over my throat, then moves to my ear.

  “I missed you,” he whispers, his breath warm on my ear. His hand dips beneath my shirt and I involuntarily spread my legs. He lifts me up, I wrap my legs around his waist. “I dreamed of tasting you all day.” Sitting me down on the table, he sinks to his knees.

  I gasp at the coldness of the table as his palm on my abdomen forces me to lie back. A moan escapes my mouth as the warmth of his tongue finds me and pushes my knees farther apart.