Life After Wife : Small Town Romance (Balsam Ridge Book 1)

by Amber Kelly

  “He thinks wine saved his life?” I ask.

  “He thinks it helped him recover and I believe it did too. Along with many other things. So, I decided it was time to throw caution to the wind and invest in the winemaking business. It was small at first, but we have been adding on every year. First, it was the tasting room, then the deck and now we are a full-time event venue as well. We host everything from festivals, to holiday parties, to several weddings a year out here.”

  “Wow. Congratulations.”

  “Thank you. We are certainly blessed.”

  After the tour, he leads us back inside and sets us up with a tasting. The wines are exquisite. I mark my favorites on the card provided and buy a case to take home.

  Graham purchases a bottle of the Pinot Noir and we order salads for lunch.

  We settle at a table outside and he pours us each a glass while we wait for our food.

  “This was fun. Thank you for bringing me out here,” I say.

  “It was my pleasure.”

  “I never thought I’d see the day Balsam Ridge had its own winery.”

  “We have a distillery, too. We’re becoming all kinds of civilized around these parts.”

  I laugh.

  “This would be a beautiful place for a wedding,” I muse.

  “Yeah, I remember when Heather and I were looking for a venue. There wasn’t a lot to choose from back then. We settled for a church ceremony and a reception at my folk’s place.”

  “How long we’re you two married?” I ask.

  “Not long enough,” he answers.

  Why did I ask that?

  “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to pry,” I apologize.

  “It’s okay. It was hard for me to talk about at first, but I’m at peace with it now. We were married six years. She was diagnosed with metastatic triple-negative breast cancer a week after our fourth wedding anniversary.”

  “That must have been a shock.”

  “It was. She had been feeling poorly for a while. We just thought she had a low immune system. She was always tired, feverish, and became winded easily. She brushed it off as allergies. I mean she was a healthy twenty-five-year-old woman. We never considered it could anything more serious. Until one day I came up behind her while she was at the stove cooking. I picked her up to twirl her around and kiss her when I felt a lump on the side of her right breast close to her armpit. It hadn’t been there before. She called the next day and made an appointment with the doctor. It was stage four and had already spread to her liver and lungs.”

  “Oh my goodness. That’s awful. What did they do?” I ask.

  “There wasn’t much they could do. They talked about a mastectomy, but even with that and chemotherapy, they only gave her a year maybe a year and a half to live. She decided not to endure the surgery. It would be too painful, and the recovery would eat into the time she had left. I fought her on that. I was praying for a miracle and I wanted to do every single thing possible to fight. I was worried more about the length of her days, but she was focused on the quality of the days she had left.”

  “So, she didn’t get any treatment?” I ask.

  “She agreed to the chemotherapy. For me. She took three rounds and each time she got weaker and sicker. When they did a scan and saw that it had spread to lesions on her brain and to her bones, despite the aggressive chemo, we stopped the treatment.”

  “That must have been hard.”

  “It was. I felt like we were giving up, but my mom sat me down and told me that I could ask her to keep taking the chemo and it may or not extend her life a few weeks, but those weeks would be spent with her too sick to enjoy any time with the people she loved. Or I could spend what time she had left, loving her, laughing with her and making more memories. Memories of peace, instead of sickness. So we stopped everything and brought her home to palliative care. They kept her pain-free and comfortable until the end. She lived another three months.”

  I feel a tear roll down my cheek. I can see the love in his eyes and the pain in his heart as he talks of her.

  “I’m so sorry,” I murmur.

  His eyes meet mine and he smiles.

  “I’m not. I was a lucky man to be the one she loved.”

  She was the lucky one. How blessed it is to have been loved like that.

  “Do you miss her?” I ask.

  “Always will, but I don’t spend my time thinking about what could have been. I appreciate the time I had with Heather, I treasure our memories, but I don’t live in the past. Not anymore.”

  A server arrives with our lunch, breaking the tense moment. She refills our wine glasses before she walks back inside.

  Picking up my glass, I swirl the dark liquid and bring it to my nose. I inhale the aroma before bringing it to my lips and taking a sip.

  Graham watches me as I savor the wine.

  “Good?”

  I lick my lips.

  “So good.”

  We dig in and mom was right, the fig and pear salad is to die for.

  “They have concerts out here on the weekends. We should come back,” he suggests.

  “I’d like that. Thank you for bringing me here today and telling me about Heather.”

  “I’m happy to tell you anything about my life, Taeli. All you have to do is ask,” he says.

  And I believe him.

  Taeli

  It’s taken us a few days to get settled in, and Caleb and I are anxious to get started on the yard. We woke up early, I make us breakfast, and we discuss our game plan. I am going to tackle the front flower beds and the porch while he uses the weed eater to trim around the house and the outbuilding.

  Once I’ve loaded the dishwasher, we roll our sleeves up and get to work.

  By midafternoon, I’ve already pressure-washed the sidewalk that leads from the parking spaces to the front door, gotten all the cobwebs down, secured the new porch swing, hung three large ferns, which provide some extra sun cover, and transferred the potting soil I purchased to the clay pots on the steps.

  My phone rings as I start to weed the flower beds near the mailbox, and I stop to answer.

  “Hello.”

  “Is this Taeli Lowder?”

  “Yes, it is.”

  “This is Shane down at the Jackrabbit Rock Yard. Mrs. Tuttle said you needed some gravel.”

  “Oh, yes. I want to fill in the driveway at my home. Most of the existing rocks have washed away.”

  “How much do you want?”

  “The driveway is about twenty-five feet by thirty feet,” I say, guessing.

  “It’ll probably take a small truckload,” he suggests.

  “Okay. I need a truckload delivered, please.”

  “All right. That’ll be two hundred,” he says.

  “Two hundred dollars? That’s all? I said a truckload.”

  “I heard you,” he confirms.

  “And the delivery fee. I live off Connelly.”

  “I know. Sara-Beth told me where you are. That’ll be two hundred dollars,” he reiterates.

  “That can’t be right. A five-pound bag is ten dollars apiece at the hardware store,” I argue.

  “I can charge you more if you insist, but the price is two hundred dollars, delivered, for a small truckload of crush and run.”

  “All right, if you’re sure, I’d like to place an order.”

  I give him my credit card information and schedule the delivery for Monday. For an extra fifty dollars, they will spread the gravel for me as well.

  I finish weeding the beds and plant the flowers I purchased at the nursery in town in the garden and the clay pots. I stand back and examine the work. The pop of color really brightens up the yard.

  Caleb comes around the corner with the weed eater in hand.

  “I finished the edges,” he says.

  “Good job, bud.”

  He joins me, and we both stare at the progress.

  “New gravel, a couple of rockers, and a few potted plants on the back deck are all it
needs. What do you think?” I ask.

  “I like it!”

  “Me too,” I tell him.

  No, it’s not the perfectly manicured lawn in the suburbs, but it sure feels more welcoming and cozier than that yard ever did.

  It’s hard to believe we went from four thousand square feet to just under fifteen hundred square feet, but this tiny cabin in the woods is homier than that pristine palace in the city ever was.

  “Can I go wade in the creek?”

  I smile down at him. “Sure, just be careful and stay where I can see you out the window.”

  He runs off behind the house, and I still can’t believe my Caleb is running around, barefoot, asking to play in a creek instead of sitting in front of a television.

  It’s funny how much life can change when you let go of all the wasted space and frivolous stuff. The nonsense you gather and collect that you think makes you look more successful, but in actuality only makes you feel more alone. Daddy used to say a home should be just big enough for you to trip over love every few steps. I didn’t understand what he meant back then, but I get it now.

  Tucker invites Caleb to a bring-a-friend event with his Boy Scout troop. They are hiking to one of the local waterfalls and then camping in the state park for the night.

  Caleb is excited to try Scouts, and I promise that if he enjoys himself, I’ll sign him up.

  I help him pack his backpack with everything on the list Tucker provided, and Langford picks him up just after three.

  I spend the rest of the afternoon hanging blinds and curtains. Then, I light some candles and run me a bath in my new tub to wash away the dirt from my aching body.

  I soak for over an hour. It’s glorious.

  Then, I wrap myself in a fluffy robe, make myself a cup of hot cocoa, and sit out on my porch to watch the sun set.

  A star shoots across the clear night sky, and I close my eyes.

  “Hope you made a good wish.”

  I open my eyes at the sound of Graham’s sexy, deep voice.

  “I’ll never tell.”

  He walks up the steps and joins me on the swing.

  I lean into his side, and he wraps an arm around me and tucks me in close.

  “This place looks great,” he says.

  “Yeah, thanks to you and your parents.”

  “Nah, we made it livable, but you’ve made it a home,” he declares.

  “It feels like home,” I admit.

  “I’m glad,” he says before kissing the top of my head.

  I look up at him. “You are?”

  He slides a finger under my chin and lifts my face to his. “I’m so damn happy you’re staying. I’m sorry if I didn’t make that clear before,” he whispers across my lips before taking my mouth with his.

  For the first time in months, I feel free. Free from who I was and what I left behind. Free of the guilt, the embarrassment, and the fear of what is to come. I know that no matter what happens next, I can handle it and that I have people in my life who have my back. It’s the best feeling in the world because when you finally decide to let go of all that shit that doesn’t matter, you find that you have a free hand to grab the shit that does, so I fist my hands in Graham’s shirt and pull him back down for another kiss.

  He stops and pulls back. “Caleb?” he asks.

  “He’s with Tucker’s Scout troop,” I tell him.

  “For how long?”

  “They’re camping in the state park,” I inform him.

  “So, we have the cabin to ourselves?”

  “Looks like it.”

  He smiles. “In that case, I have a housewarming gift for you,” he says.

  “Oh, really?”

  He places a kiss on my neck. “Yep. All you have to do is unwrap it,” he whispers in my ear.

  I stand and extend my hand to him. He takes it, and I lead him inside.

  Graham

  Once inside, she locks her mouth with mine, and I kick the door shut behind us. I pick her up into my arms and walk her to the master bedroom without disengaging.

  She is frantic, and so am I. I set her on her feet at the foot of the bed as I tug at the tie that is holding her robe closed.

  She stands before me in nothing but her smile and a pair of red lace panties.

  I stalk her until we’re near the bed. She squeals as she climbs up and rests against the pillows as I turn and sit on the edge to remove my boots. Impatient, she bears up and wraps her arms around me, tugging at the hem of my shirt. I hold up my arms and let her remove it. She kisses my shoulder and my back as she runs her nails down my chest. I chuckle when she finds the button of my jeans and starts to fumble with it.

  I grasp her hand and hold it.

  “It’s not a race,” I tell her, and she laughs.

  “I know.”

  I stand and remove my jeans before climbing back over to her.

  I bring my mouth to hers and kiss her softly and slowly. She wraps her legs around my hips to hold me in place.

  “Baby, I’m not going anywhere. You don’t have to trap me,” I whisper against her lips.

  She doesn’t let me up. She just arches her back and flexes her hips. I groan as the lace grazes my cock. She looks up at me with a glint in her eyes and licks her lips.

  “Maybe I like having you trapped,” she utters.

  “Is that right?” I slide my hand under her ass and lift her as I flip over to my back, bringing her on top.

  She grins wickedly as she settles her weight on her knees.

  I surrender to her. She can do whatever she likes to me.

  She glides her hands over my chest and down my rib cage to the tattoo of my wedding anniversary. Instead of questioning me about it, she simply leans down and brings her lips to my skin.

  I take her hair and weave it into my hand, so I can lift it and see her face. Her beautiful face.

  I caress her neck right below her ear, and I come up to a sitting position, so I can bring my mouth to the sensitive place where her neck meets her shoulder.

  I feel her shudder atop me, and I slowly trail my tongue up the slope of her neck.

  She releases a sharp intake of breath as her head falls back, giving me full access to her throat.

  God, she is exquisite.

  I take my time, savoring the taste of her skin. Absorbing every gasp and moan as I make love to her.

  She arches her back and pushes her chest into me, and I feel her seeking my hardness with her core as she begins to move her hips against me.

  My cock grows painfully hard at the contact, and I fight the urge to flip her on her back and sink myself deep inside of her.

  I want her to take what she wants at the pace she wants it.

  I lean back and watch as her breath grows ragged and her eyes roll back as she rides my hips. I grow thicker beneath her. I bring my mouth to her breast, take a taut nipple between my lips, give it a tiny nip, and suck it gently.

  She brings her hand to my left bicep and digs her fingernails in sharply as a tremor runs the length of her body.

  “Graham,” she moans my name, and it breaks the thread of restraint I was holding on to.

  I flip her to her back, and her eyes fly open.

  “I want to taste you.”

  I pepper kisses across her stomach and over the top of her panties. She cries out and lifts her hips from the bed, so I can slide them down her legs. I growl as I see how slick and ready she is for me.

  I hold her hip with one hand and bring my other to her center, where I dip a finger into her wetness. Her legs start to tremble with anticipation as I circle her clit with my thumb.

  She is lying there, naked, completely open to me, and I have never seen anything so fucking beautiful in my life.

  I slide my hands under her and bring my mouth to her core. I lick and suck and savor her. She threads her fingers into my hair and pulls as I bury my tongue inside of her and let her ride it. Then, I add a finger and then another till she is completely full. Her hips begin jerking un
controllably, and she starts holding her breath as her orgasm hits her.

  I lap every last drop from her before I crawl up her body and take her mouth in a possessive kiss.

  She drops her knees, spreading for me, and takes my throbbing cock into her hand. She strokes me a couple of times before she brings me to her entrance, and I thrust into her. She is so hot and ready and perfect. I try to go slow and easy, but I’m too far gone. I pump into her rhythmically as she scores my back with her nails. She raises her hips to meet each thrust to bring me deeper inside.

  I pull back, trying to get control of myself because I’m about to come and I want it to last longer, but she tightens her muscles around me.

  Fuck me, that feels amazing.

  I give in, and I move harder and faster until I explode. My release rockets down my spine and into her. She wraps her arms around my neck and holds me tight as she comes hard again.

  I stretch out, covering her, as our breathing evens out. We are a sweaty, sated mess, tangled in her new bedsheets.

  When my heart rate finally calms down, I look into her beautiful amber eyes, and for the first time in years, I feel like I’m home.

  I get up and run to the bathroom. I come back with a warm towel to find her fast asleep. I take a pillow and gently lift her head and place it under her. Then, I lie beside her and tuck her into my side.

  I hold her all night. Every thread of apprehension inside my chest snaps loose.

  I’m in love with this woman.

  Taeli

  I awaken in Graham’s arms. I roll over and snuggle into him and close my eyes. Never have I felt so enveloped in strength and comfort. I tangle a finger into the hair on his chest and tug lightly. He flinches in his sleep and covers my hand with his. I try to pull my hand loose, and his grip tightens.

  “What are you doing?”

  His gravelly voice makes me open my eyes again and smile against his side.

  “Nothing.” I feign innocence.

  One of his eyes pops open and looks down at me.