At First Blush

by Marianne Rice

  If all they had was tonight, he would make it last until they couldn’t move their limbs. He’d kiss her until their lips grew numb, he’d give her his last breath, his heart.

  His everything.

  Covering her body with his, Ben hovered over Alexis, whispering kisses along her chin, down to her neck. “You’re beautiful, Alexis. Inside and out.”

  “You don’t have to say that.”

  “I know.”

  They kissed until they were both breathless and longing to make love again. This time he didn’t rush, taking in every inch of her body, loving it as if it would be his last time.

  Which he very much feared it would be.

  * * *

  This time when he woke before the sun, he nuzzled Alexis’s hair instead of sneaking out of her bed. Not that he’d intentionally snuck out before. “Sweetheart.” The endearment slipped easily from his lips, and he hoped she didn’t tense at the term.

  “Mmm.” She snuggled into his side, her head cradled on his chest, her thigh crossed over his middle. It was nice. Too nice.

  “I have to catch my flight.” He smoothed her hair away and planted a gentle kiss on her forehead.

  “No.” Alexis hugged him tighter and his heart surged with emotion, his body warming beneath her touch.

  “I don’t want to leave. Unfortunately, my work is piling up at home.” He thought he’d be able to squeeze in a few hours of work on his computer each day while in Maine so he wouldn’t fall behind, not expecting Alexis to agree to spend twenty-four hours a day with him.

  He came to Maine to sample the ice wine they made together, hoping to bed Alexis again, and maybe get to know her a little better.

  What he hadn’t expected was to fall in love. Of all the times, in all the places, his heart betrayed him and chose the impossible.

  “When will you come back?” She snuggled in closer, sliding her body on top of his, her face nestled in the crook of his neck.

  Ben stroked her naked back, torn between telling her the truth and placating her with a lie. Neither appealed, so he evaded.

  “I’ve been taking a lot of time off lately to come out here. I’m backed up with meetings. I have a…needy client who is going to require a lot of my time. I don’t know when I’ll be able to get away again.” That needy client was due to be born any day now.

  He’d checked in with Felicia daily through texts. He had to read through her tirade of complaining about weight gain and the lack of social life now that she couldn’t drink to finally read she hadn’t had any contractions.

  It wasn’t fair to Felicia. It wasn’t fair to his child. It wasn’t fair to Alexis. He couldn’t have it all and it sucked. Sucked big time.

  Alexis sighed and kissed his chest. He held her like that, enjoying the simplicity of their naked bodies, warming each other, comforting each other, even without the sex. Not that he would have minded if it turned in to that.

  She lifted her torso, her palms flat against his chest, her dark hair falling across her shoulders. Ben captured this moment in his photographic memory and stored it close to his heart, taking in her soft curves, the fullness of her lips, the sad eyes.

  Brushing back a lock of her hair, he lifted his head and kissed her shoulder. Then her neck.

  Always her neck.

  He sat up and she instinctively wrapped her legs around his waist, and her arms around his neck.

  “I’m going to miss you,” he whispered in her ear.

  “I’m going to miss you, too.” She rested her forehead against his shoulder and sighed again. Not a heavy, annoyed sigh, but one of sadness, of possible heartbreak.

  He had to get out now before their feelings got too deep, too impossible to run away from. The distance, the distraction of a baby, would be good for his mind, or so he told himself.

  “Is it okay if I…” Alexis licked her lips and cast her gaze to the side. “If I…uh, text you or…call you sometime?”

  Ben palmed her cheek, rubbing his thumb across her lips. “I’d like that very much.” She nodded, and he needed to lighten the moment before he caved, revealing his true feelings. “Feel free to send me naked selfies as well.”

  Alexis gasped, her head snapping up, her eyes big and round. He slapped on his big goofy grin that only she could bring out, and Alexis scrunched her face into an amused sneer. “Jerk.”

  “Maybe just a little of this.” He cupped her breasts, lifting them and wiggling his eyebrows in jest.

  “Stop.” She laughed, smacking his hands away.

  “At least send me a picture of this.” He traced her lips with his finger, replacing it with his mouth.

  They remained like that, legs wrapped around one another, lips locked, hands holding each other in place, until Ben reluctantly pulled back. “I need to go.”

  He’d have to break every speed limit to get to the Portland airport to make his six AM flight. As usual, his clothes were strewn all over the cramped space and he tugged on each piece as he found it, shoving his boxers in his pocket when he discovered them wedged between the bed and the wall. He’d packed his bag yesterday, hoping the night would end as it had, and stored it in his rental. All he needed to do now was say goodbye.

  “Drive safe.”

  “I will.” Ben studied her, memorizing her features once again, then leaned down and kissed the top of her head. “Sono pazza di te.”

  And he left, closing her bedroom door quietly behind him, knowing what they shared, what they had would never be the same.

  Alexis watched from her bedroom window until the taillights of Ben’s car rounded the corner and disappeared into the morning sky. Why did her life have to be so difficult? Why couldn’t she have an affair with an exotic guy who lived on the other side of the country and not let her heart get involved?

  Because she was Alexis Le Blanc. She only fell in love with men who couldn’t return her love. She had to do everything the hard way.

  Ben’s last words stuck in her mind. Sono pazza di te. She had no idea how to spell what he’d said, so she did the next best thing, picked up her phone and asked Siri, the computer program that worked as a personal assistant.

  “Siri, what does the Italian phrase sono pazza di te mean?” Her Italian was horrid, but she hoped the computer would understand.

  “I’m afraid I can’t translate things for you, but you can search the web if you’d like.”

  What good was this infamous computer program if she couldn’t translate? Alexis could search the web easy enough. Siri loaded a few websites and Alexis clicked on the first one, reading the translation. “I’m crazy about you.”

  Slapping her hand over her heart, Alexis teared up. And she never cried.

  Ever.

  Or at least, rarely ever. Not until she met Ben.

  He wasn’t in this just for the sex. She looked over at the bedside table at the barely touched bottle of wine.

  Or the wine. Maybe he really did care for her? Needing to keep busy, she got dressed, hurried down the stairs, fed Hemmy and herself, and pruned the vines for a few hours. When her hands grew numb, she joined her parents in the barn, assisting with the bottling of the reds from two falls ago.

  For seven days she went through the same routine: pruning back from the winter damage, then bottling either a red or a white. She’d thought of herself as a patient person, never having a problem waiting eighteen months after pressing the reds before bottling. The whites only needed six months of racking before they could be bottled, and she hadn’t ever rushed on those either.

  But now, the thought of another week, another month going by without seeing Ben brought misery. She couldn’t do it. With most of the work done around the fields and waiting on Mother Nature to do her job, she had little to do but wait.

  The floors in the function hall were going in beautifully. Ty explained the lengthy process of the careful extraction from the church, then sanding the boards, installing, and eventually putting down quite a few coats of poly.

  That
night, a week after Ben had been gone, he sent her another of the silly texts they’d been exchanging since he left. A selfie of him at his family’s vineyard, pretending to eat a bunch of grapes off the vine. It was the classic tourist picture. She laughed and stroked the screen with her fingers, wishing she could touch him. Talk to him other than through the phone.

  She’d called twice during the week while under her covers, but he’d been on conference calls or in business meetings, sending her quick apology texts. If he hadn’t sent silly pictures she’d think he was giving her the brush-off.

  But with the time change and his long workdays, she knew he didn’t have time for leisurely phone calls. Alexis settled for texts, sending him a picture of Hemmy from earlier in the day covered in mud, a giant stick in his mouth.

  Ben later replied.

  Your dog is bad ass. Miss you both.

  Hugging her phone to her chest, Alexis fell asleep, dreaming of picnics on the beach, Chianti, and Ben.

  In the morning, she woke with a revelation. Ben had come out and surprised her twice, why couldn’t she do the same to him? Work was caught up and at a slight standstill until the hall was done and the tourists traveled north. She could afford a quick trip west. Maybe not financially. She’d have to take a dip into her savings account. A big dip.

  With a new bounce in her step, she rushed through her morning chores working side-by-side with her parents, and shared her news with them.

  “Ben did such a lovely job with our new marketing strategy and helping out the town, and you both have raved about Gino and Sarah Martelli, I thought I’d take a quick visit to their vineyard. Before the tourists come.”

  “You’re going to Italy?” Her mother looked up from labeling the Edelvira wine.

  “No, to California.”

  “Oh. I didn’t know they were back in the states. We haven’t talked to them for quite a few months.”

  Meeting Ben’s parents would be interesting, as long as it didn’t take time away from being with him.

  “We don’t use Italian grapes, but it would be good research to see how a large vineyard operates.” Alexis toyed with the cuff on her sleeve hoping her parents would pretend not to see through her plan and ask about Ben.

  “I thought you had your eyes set on Canada. Going to the Niagara sector,” her father said, eyeing her skeptically over the stainless steel drums.

  She did. For months, working on her ice wine craft had been at the forefront of her mind, but now it was all Ben.

  “I’m planning on going in December.”

  “What if our winter starts early and you’re gone during the ice harvest?”

  The knowing smile in his eyes had her blushing and she crouched and rubbed behind Hemmy’s ears to avoid her father’s grilling.

  “I’m twenty-nine. I’m not asking for permission. I’m telling you I’m leaving.” She hadn’t gone online yet to price out tickets. While she didn’t spend much, having no hobbies or social life, she didn’t make much either and would need to look for the cheapest flight. She had no idea what day that would be.

  Before her parents could ask about the specifics of her travel plans, she marched out of the barn and hurried to the house. After nearly an hour on the Internet, she’d booked her ticket to San Francisco and reserved a rental car, opting out of the discounted hotel room, hoping Ben would offer her his bed to share.

  She’d be taking a Thursday morning flight. Four long days from now. She had been looking forward to this week’s book night, finally feeling like she had friends, had a connection to girls in town, but spending time with Ben trumped book club.

  It wasn’t because of the sex, she told herself. That would make her superficial and weak, like the girls she scoffed at. Spending time with Ben was more than that. They laughed together, shared common interests, even worked well together. He brought out a side of her she’d buried a long, long time ago and made her feel free. Worthy. Special.

  When the morning of her flight finally arrived, she was more than ready. Leaving a note on the kitchen table for her parents and hugging her giant pooch, she curbed the butterflies in her belly, reassuring herself that surprising Ben was the best way to go.

  It would be romantic, showing up on his doorstep…no, she didn’t know where he lived. Downtown San Francisco in a condo wasn’t exactly helpful information. He talked about his family’s vineyard a lot and how he often stayed in the guesthouse on the weekends, helping the family.

  Finding Martevino Vineyard should be easy enough. She made her flight with plenty of time to spare, the connecting flight was on time, and she landed in San Francisco ten minutes ahead of schedule. So far her surprise visit to the west coast was going off without a hitch.

  Not having many choices in wardrobe, Alexis didn’t have to worry about baggage claim, keeping it simple with her carryon and three outfits. One being the pink silk Ben sent to her that she’d only worn for five minutes.

  The line at the rental counter wasn’t too long, and even that process was a cinch.

  Destiny. Fate. It had to be.

  Working her way through the lot, she found her economical Prius, tossed her carryon in the backseat, and programmed the GPS.

  Two hours later, the tourist and winemaker in her went giddy with excitement when she passed the “Welcome to Napa Valley” sign. Pulling over, she rolled down her window and took a picture with her phone. And just for fun, she took an ill-attempted selfie with the sign in the background.

  It wasn’t much longer until she turned down a well-cared-for dirt road, following the signs to Martevino. Once she left the crazy traffic of the city, the world had suddenly changed. Acres and acres, miles and miles of land stretched beyond what the eye could see. Strawberries, pear trees, orange trees, and another fruit tree she couldn’t identify lined the roads.

  And of course, grapevines.

  Napa grew varieties that the northeast couldn’t: Cabernet Sauvignon, Merlot, even Zinfandel. Alexis prided herself on making top quality wines from lesser known, hybrid grapes, but to see the grapes known to every man was pretty darn cool.

  And then she arrived. The entrance to Martevino was grand. Nestled between mountains and hillsides, a monstrous hotel-sized building that managed to look quaint and rustic stood out among acres and acres of vines.

  Feeling timid and out of place, Alexis parked in the cobblestone lot and second-guessed her plan. Visiting the vineyard and tasting room as a tourist would allow her to get to know the side of Ben without the pressure of being his…lover.

  And then what? Call him from here and ask if he had time to see her tonight, or drive back to the city and ask him where he lived? The seven hours on the plane should have been enough time to figure out her next steps.

  The dry heat hit her like an electric blanket on a summer’s day. Maybe coming straight from the airport wasn’t a good idea. Alexis unbuttoned her flannel shirt and tossed it in the car. At least she had enough sense to wear a short sleeved shirt underneath and not her usual thermal, and sneakers instead of boots. The temperature in Maine was on the rise, but closer to fifty, not the warm seventy-nine that read on the screen in her car.

  Playing the part of the tourist, she pocketed her keys and phone and made her way to the front of the building. With white stucco walls and a clay roof, it looked nothing like the buildings on the east coast. The entryway doors were open and arched and she walked in, taking in her surroundings. Clay tile flooring and dark cherry walls greeted her, as did a gorgeous thirty-something woman with an uncanny resemblance to Ben.

  With dark hair pulled back in a braid and bright blue eyes that lit up with Alexis’s entrance, the woman greeted her with a smile. She hoped the woman didn’t know who she was. Heck, Alexis didn’t even know who she was anymore.

  “Hi! Welcome to Martevino.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Are you here for a tasting or a tour?”

  “Both?”

  “That’s what we love to hear. Have a seat and t
ell me about your wine preference.” The woman escorted Alexis to a tabletop and held out a tall leather barstool. “I’m Adrianna, by the way.”

  The older sister and mother to Ben’s niece and nephew. She was as beautiful and friendly as Ben had described. A part of her wondered if he’d shared stories about her, or even pictures. Adrianna didn’t seem to recognize her, and she didn’t know how she felt about that. Happy for her anonymity or sad because he hadn’t spoken of her. Tamping down the bout of melancholy, she took in her surroundings.

  A tasting bar took up the center of the room with high and low tables scattered around, and three groupings of chocolate brown leather couches as well to entertain larger groups, she assumed.

  “I’m Alexis.”

  “Nice to meet you. Are you vacationing in the area? Here for business?”

  “Do I look that out of place?”

  “I think everyone looks out of place unless they’re in their own home. Even our local guests who come for events are a bit out of their element. It’s what makes life so wonderful, don’t you agree? The different cultures, ethnicities, likes and dislikes? If we were all the same…listen to me. I have a tendency to ramble. It’s the Italian in me.”

  Adrianna had a gentle laugh, a woman like her was meant to be the face of Martevino. Beautiful, personable, and kind.

  “The Italian goes well with your vineyard. Can you tell me about its history?”

  “I’d love to! Let me get you some wine first.” Adrianna handed her an extensive list of wines. “The five samples we have for today are listed on the wall.” She pointed at the elegantly framed chalkboard behind her. “But since you’re the only one in here right now, if you see something on the list and I have a bottle open already, I’ll sneak you in a taste.”

  Yeah, she liked Ben’s sister already. “What you have listed looks delicious.”