Leaning Into Series: The Complete Box Set

by Hayes, Lane

  “I do. I love you,” he whispered. “So much. For so long.”

  “Then let me fight for you too. Let me be the one who rescues you when you lose your way. When you doubt yourself, I want you to know you have someone who believes you’re beautiful and strong and who loves you just the way you are.”

  Tears streamed down his face. He swiped at his nose and eyes then launched himself into my arms and sobbed. I rocked him gently and kissed his forehead then his nose and finally his lips.

  He broke for air and smiled. The sudden ray of sunshine transformed everything around us like a scene in a fairy tale where a spell is lifted, and the real magic is released. And in that moment, I knew I’d found the other half of me. The part of me that welcomed color and sound and knew when to speak up and claim what was mine.

  “I love you too, Gio,” he sniffed. “I promised myself I wouldn’t fall for you, but I did. And I tried to play it cool, but I failed. I’m not cool, I’m just crazy and I fucking love you so much and—”

  “Shh. I keep telling you we’re going to be okay. It’s not a day-to-day thing anymore, Mi. This is a forever thing. Tell me you’ll come home with me. Tell me you’re mine.”

  “I’m yours.”

  I cupped his chin and caressed his stubbled cheek with my thumb. Then I stared into his eyes and found everything I’d ever want or need. My best friend, my champion, my lover, my muse. The man I wanted to wake up next to every day, grow old with, and make memories to last a lifetime. It was all there in his eyes. All I had to do was lean into the look.

  Epilogue

  “The most beautiful words of love are told in silence for a look.”—Leonardo da Vinci

  The rainbow of paint swatches ranged in color from strong blues to a gentle shade of robin’s egg. They were fanned across the dining room table along with tile samples and cut-out photos of furniture. The choices were overwhelming. No wonder I stuck to a monochromatic palette. Miles didn’t share my angst. He reached for the lightest and darkest shades of blue and set the card swatches in front of me decisively.

  “Let’s go with these two. The midnight accent will be amazing on the bedroom wall and—”

  “Wait. Which bedroom?” I furrowed my brow and glanced over at my boyfriend as he flopped into the chair next to me. He fixed me with a blank stare for a few seconds until I laughed. “Give me a break, Mi. This isn’t my thing. You choose.”

  “Okay. Then let’s try the darker color in the guest room. I can pick up a few samples tomorrow after work, and we’ll have a painting party this weekend. It’s going to be so fun,” he enthused, leaning into my side.

  “It sounds horrible. I don’t understand why we have to practice painting our own house for other people’s condos. We should let the design team work their magic without interference.”

  Miles rubbed his nose against my cheek then backed up slightly and stared into my eyes. My heart did a funny somersault and backward flip. Fuck, he was beautiful. “Let me refresh your memory. You agreed to a teensy color exploration via paint. You suggested we try one of the shades the designers chose for the Stockton condos before you made the final approval. Just one room to start and we’ll see how it goes, right?”

  “Right. Which room again?”

  “The guest room. It’s only paint, buttercup. If you don’t like it, we repaint. What’s your hesitation? You’ve become a color connoisseur. Look at this palace.” He stood abruptly and opened his arms wide. “It’s gorgeous.”

  I twisted in my seat and gave the great room a cursory once-over. My former black and white bachelor pad had been transformed into a lush space with vibrant accent pillows and a colorful rug. The furniture was the same, but the accessories changed the entire feel of the room. It was warm and inviting and yes, it looked incredible.

  Truthfully, I didn’t care if Miles wanted to paint every room purple. This was his home now too. He’d put his condo in Mountain View on the market last spring and moved in the rest of his things soon after. He joked he was my permanent roommate now, but he was so much more. He was my reason, my start, and my end. He was my everything. And everyone knew it.

  My friends already adored him. But it didn’t take long for my family to feel the same. He was “a lot” sometimes, but he was full of life, compassion, and sincerity. He effortlessly charmed my mother by insisting that she teach him how to make some of my favorite Greek dishes. And he won my father over by alternately teasing him or standing up to him when he blustered about how things should be done. Or maybe they’d come to love him because they knew he loved me. I liked to think they recognized something in the way we looked at each other.

  “It looks okay,” I said nonchalantly.

  Miles whirled around and glared at me. “ ‘Okay’? It’s not ‘okay.’ It’s fabulous! Admit it.”

  I pulled at his wrist until he toppled onto my lap. Then I nuzzled his neck until he turned to face me. “I admit it. And yeah, the darker blue is nice. But let’s be clear.…I’m not painting. We’re hiring someone, got it?”

  He chuckled good-naturedly and slung his arms over my shoulders. “Got it. Yes to blue everywhere and you’re totally cool with all new lighting and maybe new tile in the—”

  Miles shrieked with laughter when I tickled him. I let up when he gasped for air then held his face in my hands and covered his mouth in a searing kiss that left us both breathless.

  “I love you.”

  He sighed sweetly and hugged me close. “I love you too, Gio. To the moon and back. Thank you.”

  “For what?”

  “Being my guy.”

  I lifted his hand and kissed his knuckles gallantly. Then bit his thumb until he yelped and jumped off my lap. I snickered at his dramatic reaction then stood and wrapped my arm around his waist. “Always, Mi. You’re mine, for always.”

  Maybe it was human nature to shy away from what we didn’t understand. And perhaps it was equally reasonable to be wary of people who overwhelmed us with their ability to rise above fear and shine in their own light. A year ago, I could never have dreamed of a scenario where Miles and I were more than acquaintances. Now I couldn’t imagine my life without him. I wanted all the things I’d never thought could be mine. Marriage, family, the works. We’d figure out the details as they came. As long as he looked at me like I hung the stars personally for him, I’d be content to lean into the look and be grateful I’d found my other half. My love.

  Leaning Into Forever

  Geordie De La Rosa is a legend among wine lovers in Napa Valley. His ultra-fabulous style paired with a penchant for leading impromptu sing-a-longs has made him a star attraction at Conrad Winery. Co-owning a well-respected winery was never Geordie’s aspiration but he likes the niche he’s made for himself. He won’t deny that his job and his friends have helped ease his heartache and grief after the death of his longtime partner.

  Levi Yeager excels at the art of reinventing himself. He’s been a minor league baseball player, a college coach and now a restaurant owner. Food may be the only thing he has in common with the beautiful, sassy man from the neighboring winery who agrees to help get his new business up and running. Neither man counts on their fast friendship or the wild attraction they feel for each other. However, they know they won’t stand a chance until they let go of the past and lean into forever.

  Chapter 1

  “Why, darling, I don’t live at all when I’m not with you.”—Ernest Hemingway, A Farewell to Arms

  A mild breeze whistled through the short lavender plants. They’d been cut back a few weeks ago and wouldn’t look their best until spring. Same with the rose bushes and the ivy climbing the brick wall. Most of the plants and vines were dormant now. The only real greenery in the courtyard was from the olive trees and succulents lining the gravel pathway. Even the sky was gray and dreary. February sucked. Why did it always seem like the shortest month of the year dragged on the longest?

  I thought about voicing my feelings aloud, but this was a strict no-negativi
ty zone. Mike deserved better than to listen to endless griping. My feelings about cold weather and constant drizzle weren’t news to him anyway. I shifted on the bench and straightened my long legs in front of me before refocusing on the wings of the stone angel statue. It was peaceful in this little alcove next to the herb garden. The high hedge offered just enough privacy that I didn’t feel awkward talking to ghosts.

  “It’s slow today, darling. A boring Tuesday afternoon in a gloomy month. At least it’s almost over. Did I mention we’re hosting the winter wine and food pairing event this Saturday? You always liked that party more than me. I told Wes we should cancel it, but he insisted we keep it…for you.” I pursed my lips and swallowed around tears before continuing. “Wes thinks I could use a vacation. He may be right. I can’t remember the last time I went anywhere besides the city. I think it was Mexico. Do you remember when we went to Tulum? God, it was beautiful. The water was so blue and the—”

  “Geordie?”

  I started; then I hung my head in a mad quest to get my emotions under control before I embarrassed myself or worse…made my friends and employees worry that I’d lost it again. I wiped the corner of my eyes, careful not to smear the light layer of mascara I’d applied that morning. Then I clandestinely pinched my cheeks to add a little color before patting the empty space beside me on the wooden bench in invitation.

  “Is my presence required in the tasting room, Ryan, darling?”

  Ryan sat down and snaked his arm around my waist then laid his head on my shoulder. “Yeah. Wes asked me to find you. He’s talking to the guy who bought the diner.”

  “The new restaurateur.”

  Ryan nodded then handed me a tissue and tilted his chin toward the statue. “How’s Mike?”

  I dabbed my nose with a sigh. “He’s stubbornly silent today.”

  A gentle breeze tousled Ryan’s curly brown hair. He was just thirty-one, but he’d been an employee at the winery for over seven years. He’d become my right-hand man in the wine tasting room and in spite of our age difference, a dear friend too. It was nice not to have to explain my puffy eyes and lackluster smile; Ryan understood. I couldn’t help flinching when he spoke again, though.

  “I may have asked you this before but…do you ever feel him here?”

  “Sometimes, yes. But…not today.” I sighed then flashed a quirky grin at him. “Do you think I’m crazy?”

  “Eccentric, yes. But not crazy.”

  “Rumor is, there’s a fine line between the two. Statues first…next I’ll be talking to squirrels in the park like old man Mulrooney.”

  “Is he the one who feeds squirrels and birds and lets them crawl up his arms?” Ryan asked with a grin.

  “Ugh. Don’t let me become a squirrel whisperer, Ryan. Rodent friends barely worked for Cinderella. They’d be disastrous for my reputation.”

  Ryan barked a quick laugh then kissed my cheek and stood. “Don’t worry. I’ve got your back. I’ll tell Wes and our hunky neighbor you’ll be in shortly.”

  I made sure he saw my exasperated eye roll. “Hunky? That’s a slight exaggeration.”

  “No, it’s not. Levi Yeager is sexy as hell, and he’s cool too. Lauren almost fainted when he walked in carrying a motorcycle helmet. The ripped jeans and leather jacket sealed the deal.”

  “Does your boyfriend know you’re drooling over the new man in town?”

  He chuckled as he stepped onto the path. “Danny knows he has nothing to worry about, and he agrees with me anyway. So do Nick and Wes. You’re the only holdout, and I think it’s ’cause you haven’t been formally introduced. You like to be the first to know what’s going on around here.”

  “True,” I admitted, inclining my head. “I’ll be there in a moment…after I reapply my lip gloss.”

  Ryan snorted. “All right. I’ll tell Wes you’re on your way.”

  I listened to the crunch of gravel beneath his shoes as he made his way through the herb garden to the wine tasting room before turning back to the statue.

  “I must go, my love.”

  I pressed a kiss on my fingertips then touched the angel’s cold stone feet just as a sudden gust of wind blew through the alcove. I glanced toward the heavens and smiled when the clouds parted to reveal a fragment of blue sky. Maybe I was slowly going mad, but I swore these moments were proof, if I needed it, that Mike was still with me, watching over me. I could almost see his twinkling blue eyes and that slow-moving grin that made my heart beat double time. I hadn’t heard his voice in years but somehow, I knew exactly what he’d say.

  “You’ve got this, Geordie bird. Pick a song and go on.”

  I let out a ragged breath as I stood. Then I pushed my shoulders back and hummed the first few notes of “Don’t Rain on My Parade.” The song built inside me with every footstep as I headed toward the winery. By the time I threw open the back door to the wine tasting room and passed through the archway leading to the bar area, I was in full command of my emotions. In fact, I was better than ever. A little Barbra worked wonders on a soul. So did Judy and Liza.

  I was a sucker for kickass lyrics and a well-timed crescendo, especially in a musical. The powerful combination blocked out the perpetual melancholy that followed me around, and it restored some semblance of normalcy. I firmly believed in the importance of rising to any occasion with panache, so I spread my arms wide and belted out the last few lines as I sailed into the room. I held the final note like a pro then took a deep bow and inclined my head to thank my fans. Since there were only ten people in the cavernous space, it didn’t take long.

  I spent an extra moment soaking in the praise of the older couple clapping enthusiastically at the far end of the bar before moving toward Wes, who was chatting with our visitor in the lounge area. Wes was a good-looking man by anyone’s definition. He was tall and well-built with blue eyes and a light beard. His brown hair was threaded with gray at the temples, giving him a debonair look that contrasted nicely with his casual jeans and oxford shirt.

  And the man standing next to him was…hot. But this stranger wasn’t my type at all. I didn’t go for ruggedly sexy men who elevated ripped jeans, plaid button-down shirts, and work boots to haute couture. Nope. Not my thing at all. He appeared to be around six foot two with dark brown hair and a mischievous smile that hinted at a keen sense of humor. Humor was harder to find fault with, so I figured I’d give him the benefit of the doubt. Even if he did have an unmistakable “sporty” air about him.

  Fine, I admit it. I was a judgy bastard when dealing with cocky assholes with big muscles and tiny brains. The second Wes told me our new neighbor was a former baseball player, I knew I’d have to keep my distance or risk insulting the poor, handsome devil. Wes probably arranged this introduction, so he’d be on hand to smooth things over if I failed to be on my best behavior.

  They stood on either side of the huge stone fireplace, engaged in light conversation at a frustratingly low volume. It was impossible to overhear them, though I’d bet good money Wes was issuing a standard “Don’t mind Geordie. He’s not quite as odd as he seems.…” disclaimer. Hmph.

  “Good afternoon, gentlemen.” I shot an irritated glance at Wes, silently asking why I’d been summoned, then turned to our guest with my hand outstretched and a friendly smile in place. “Hello. I’m Geordie.”

  “Hi, there. I’m Levi,” Mr. Tall, Dark, and Sexy said as he grasped my hand firmly.

  “Enchanté. I’m—” My flippant, over-the-top greeting was reduced to an unintelligible mumble when he squeezed my fingers. A zing of instant awareness tripped along my arm like a rogue wave of static electricity. I dropped his hand as unobtrusively as possible and moved to stand beside Wes. Then I cleared my throat and tried again. “It’s nice to meet you.”

  “You too. I’m sorry I didn’t introduce myself last week, but I didn’t want to disturb the Grease sing-along,” he said with a lopsided smile.

  It was more of a playful smirk with a nod I understood to be a grudging show of respect.
But I couldn’t tell, which was strange because usually I was an expert at reading people and situations. I couldn’t get a feel for this guy. I firmly pushed aside the strong desire to play off his Grease reference and break into “Summer Nights” as I peeled off my coat and draped it over one of the leather chairs flanking the fireplace before turning back to our guest.

  “Did you come by with a specific musical request, or is there some other way I can be of assistance?” I asked haughtily.

  “Levi has a question that falls under your jurisdiction. I’m not sure if you can help or not but I figured since you’re here, he might as well ask you himself.”

  Wes rubbed my shoulder soothingly and gave me look of quiet communication. Don’t worry. The gesture might be a tad familiar coming from anyone else, but Wes and I had been through too much to bother with formalities. We’d gone from bitter rivals to close friends in fourteen years. We’d loved and lost the same man, and we’d been forced to lean on each other when the unthinkable happened. There was a time we barely said two words to each other, yet Mike had always insisted Wes and I would be best friends one day. He was right.

  I lifted my brow and cast a curious gaze at Levi. “Color me intrigued. What sort of mystery assistance do you need, new neighbor?”

  Levi pushed his hands into his pockets and gave me a boyish grin before replying. “The cooking kind.”

  “Keep talking.”

  “My chef quit.”

  I frowned. “Oookay…that’s too bad.”

  Levi shrugged. “It’s not the end of the world. I need to find someone soon, but I still have a few months before the renovations are complete. Wes probably told you I bought the old Skillet diner down the road.”