by Dana Mason
“I can’t help myself.” His words came out in pants and he pinned her to the car, arching against her, oh how she wanted him even closer.
“Damn it all to hell, Ali.” He moved his hands to her face and cupped her chin
“Johnny . . .” She sounded tearful, something she absolutely didn’t want him to hear.
He withdrew from the kiss and propped his forehead against hers. “Do you really want to know when I decided to move to Santa Rosa?”
She didn’t respond, scared to death of his answer.
“It was while still inside you, watching the Maui sunrise.” He rested his lips on her temple before pulling away to see her eyes. “And I don’t regret the decision.”
Ali released his shirt and wrapped her hands around his neck fighting not to cry. Shaking her head, she slid her hands down to push on his chest. “I’m sorry.”
She dropped into the driver’s seat and closed the door before he could object.
Chapter Six
Two full days, that’s long enough . . . right? Not pushy, but still showing interest. Johnny turned into her neighborhood and his pulse kicked up a bit. He felt like a kid, nervous, with stupid butterflies in his stomach. He snickered, knowing that even though she kept pushing him away, she wanted him just as much as he wanted her.
The house came into view, and so did she, tossing a garbage bag into the back of a pick-up truck. He parked and walked up, surprising her. “Hey, sunshine.”
She jerked her head up to look at him. “Johnny, hi, what are you doing here?”
“Why do you always ask me that?”
“What?—oh, sorry,” she said. “How are you?”
“Spring cleaning?” He peeked into the back of the truck. “What is all this stuff?”
“Carl’s.” Her eyes darted back to the garbage bag in her hand as she threw it into the back of the truck. “He signed the divorce papers.” She turned away and stepped back toward the house.
“Hey!”
She stopped at the front door and glanced at him over her shoulder.
“Are you okay?”
She nodded and continued back into the house.
He followed her in and when she grabbed another garbage bag, he picked one up too. “Where’s Micah?”
“He’s with Mother. I have to drop this stuff off in Napa.”
“I’ll tag along.”
She shook her head and carried the bag outside. “No, I’m fine on my own.”
“You shouldn’t do this by yourself.” He couldn’t believe the straight look on her face. No emotion, no tears, and no sign of sadness or relief. It wasn’t real, Ali was a passionate woman. He’d experienced her passion first hand. Seeing that dead look in her eyes and her hard expression chilled him, and he wouldn’t just leave and let her deal on her own. “Ali, stop.” He grabbed her arm and spun her around to look at him.
“What?”
“Sweetheart, what are you doing?”
“I told you, I have to drop this stuff off . . . Johnny, I don’t have time to—”
“Stop and take a breath.” He released his grip and rubbed her arms with his palms. “Do you think running on autopilot is gonna make this easier?”
“I’m just trying to get it over with. If you’re waiting for me to fall apart, you’re wasting your time.”
Johnny leaned in and kissed her with more force and heat than he had intended, but he needed to get her blood running again.
“What are you doing?” She broke free from him. “I don’t have time for this.”
The swell of her lips and the new color on her cheeks was the sexiest damn thing he’d ever seen. Yep, she was still alive. “I wanted to make sure your heart was still beating and you still have air in your lungs.” He’d stirred her alright, tension and anxiety flared from her like fire. “I’m coming with you.”
She glared at him. “This isn’t a pleasure trip. I’ll have to see Carl and you being there—”
He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I am coming with you.” His tone was gentler this time, not wanting it to sound like a demand.
When she nodded, he leaned in and kissed her again. She pulled away, her eyebrows drawn together, and a frown tugging at her lips. “The drive will give us time to talk about this.”
“Talking is overrated,” he said with a playful grin.
Johnny went back inside to finish loading. When he picked up a box it chattered like broken glass. “Um . . . something might be broken in this box.” He lifted the lid and found several broken framed photos.
“Don’t worry about it. Some things didn’t survive my packing.”
Johnny grinned, yep, there’s the Ali he was looking for.
After placing the last couple of boxes in the truck, he tied down the load while Ali went inside to change her clothes. Ten minutes later, she stepped out of the house looking dangerously hot in a flowing bronze and beige summer dress and a pair of sexy sandals.
“Nice . . .” he said looking her up and down. Ali gave him a quick smile and tugged on a light sweater to cover her shoulders. When she pulled the keys out of her purse, Johnny reached out and took them from her, and laid his hand on her elbow to lead her to the passenger seat.
“I can drive,” Ali said.
“No, I’ll drive—you navigate.”
She stared at him for a long moment then nodded and let him lead her to the truck.
When Johnny pulled out of the neighborhood, she directed him to the freeway before sucker punching him with ‘the talk.’
“I meant what I said before, Johnny. I’m not capable of any kind of a relationship with you . . . I like you . . .”
“But?”
“But I need to concentrate on my kids and going back to work. I thought I explained all this at your house the other day.”
“Maybe I’m not willing to walk away so easily?”
“You don’t have a choice.”
“How can you say that after . . .” he glanced over at her, “after spending that night in Maui together? I know you felt everything I felt.”
“It was the wedding—seeing Mark and Sarah so happy. It made me feel lonely.” Her tone changed to breezy and she said, “This isn’t about you. It’s about me . . . and my kids.”
He closed his eyes for a second and tried not to take that personal. “You know . . .” He exhaled, fighting for objectivity. “You don’t have to be lonely, Ali.”
“If you knew me better you wouldn’t be interested in pursuing this anyway.”
“Do you think I’ll judge you for cheating on Mark?”
She rolled her eyes. “You should, I would.”
Johnny reached over and grabbed her hand. “I don’t like the way you talk about yourself. We all make mistakes. You were in a loveless marriage—one that started when you were too young.”
She pulled her hand out of his grip. “That doesn’t make any of it okay.”
“How about . . . if I don’t care about all that stuff.” He waved his hand as if to brush it away.
“You need to take the next exit.”
“So . . .” He looked around, scanning the streets. “This is Napa?”
“Carl is staying with his parents.” She pointed. “Turn left at the next driveway.”
“I thought these were roads.”’
“They are . . . private roads. It’s here,” she pointed again, “nice trying to change the subject, but it doesn’t change the fact that you and I are not getting involved.”
Johnny followed her directions and traveled slowly down the gravel road, trying to think of a good counterargument, but the fact was he wouldn’t give up that easy.
The gravel turned into concrete and the trees parted as a very large and very old house came into view.
“Carl’s family has owned this land for generations . . . his parents are both in their nineties and need twenty-four hour nursing.”
“Does he help take care of them?”
“Ha! No.” She pulled out her cell phone. “
I’m here . . . no, I’m not coming in.”
Her voice was icy. “Coward,” she said as she closed her phone.
Johnny’s sixth sense told him to keep his mouth shut. Although, he had to fight back a smile, he liked that Carl would see him and know that Ali wasn’t alone. He pulled up to where Ali pointed and put the truck in park.
“Please wait here.” Her eyes were pleading, but they weren’t convincing enough.
“Oh no—not on your life.” He winked and slid out of the truck to help her unload.
“We’re leaving everything in the driveway.”
Before they had the first two boxes out of the truck, a servant was outside grabbing things and carrying them inside the house. Johnny caught a side patio door opening out of the corner of his eye. A well-dressed forty something man walked out and stood on the patio, Johnny stopped unloading, stood tall, and stared back at him. He could’ve had the asshole in a headlock in five good strides, and damn he wanted to do it too.
Ali laid a hand on his arm and said, “Don’t even think about it.”
He glanced at her, his neck heating in irritation. The son of a bitch wasn’t even picking up his own shit.
Ali walked over toward Carl, her hand up to Johnny, instructing him to stay put. She stopped a few feet short of Carl and said, “What? Are you afraid to get dirty carrying your own stuff?”
“Why should I get dirty when you brought your own laborer to do the work?”
Johnny snickered at that. He’d rather be a laborer over an asshole like him any day, fucker.
“Whatever—what you do with it is your business,” Ali said.
Carl shook his head and nodded toward Johnny. “Didn’t take you long to replace me, Alison.”
Johnny smiled wide as he set down another box.
“Yeah . . . well, you’re not that hard to replace, Carl.” She turned to walk away, but Carl reached out and snatched her arm and pulled her closer.
“Don’t you think it’s a little early to start sleeping with someone else?”
Johnny dropped the box in his hands. “Hands off!” He stepped forward, but at the same time, Ali swung her hand out and popped Carl’s elbow and wrenched her arm free. “Who I sleep with is no longer any of your business.”
She held her hand up signaling Johnny to stay away, but he didn’t care. He approached, his eyes glued to Carl as he led Ali back to the truck. The hair on the back of his neck stood at attention as he stared at Carl. This guy was bad news, no doubt about it. He knew a bad guy when he saw one and Carl was definitely living on the wrong side of life. The look in his eyes alone should’ve been enough to arrest him. “How about I have a talk with him,” Johnny offered, glancing back at Ali.
Ali closed her eyes on an exhale. “Please just get me out of here.”
Johnny placed his hand on the small of her back and led her to the passenger door before opening it for her. When he closed the door, he flashed Carl a wide knowing smile before climbing into the driver’s seat and driving off.
Ali took several deep breaths to hold back her tears. She didn’t want to cry in front of Johnny. He would assume she was upset over Carl and not over the fact that she’d failed miserably. All she felt for Carl now was contempt. He had made a complete fool out of her and she’d have to live with that every time she looked into the faces of her family and friends. Not to mention how much her heart broke every time she looked at her baby.
Carl had no intention of ever being a father to Micah. He would pay her big in child support every month—he never even fought over that—but he also didn’t ask for one minute of visitation.
Ali’s phone chimed from her purse. She pulled it out and read the text message from her sister, Melissa.
whats wrong? call me!
She sighed and texted her sister back.
nothing, fine, but busy
“Your boyfriend?” Johnny joked.
“Ha. No, my sister.” She looked up and caught a glimpse of the ‘Welcome to Yountville’ sign. “Oh . . . Johnny, you’re going the wrong way. Sorry, I wasn’t paying attention.”
“Yeah, well, I thought we’d take a drive. I’ve never seen the Napa Valley and the sunshine will do you some good.”
“I’m not good company. You might do better to explore with someone else.”
“You’re the only person I want to explore with. Besides, you need some lunch. It looks like you haven’t eaten since the Chinese food.”
She couldn’t remember the last time she’d eaten, and she didn’t have the strength to argue so she stared out of the window and watched the rows and rows of grapevines as they flowed over and then back down the green hills along the valley. The wide open scenery and miles of green, highlighted with the yellow Mustard Flowers and Golden Poppies, were a tell-tale sign that spring had bloomed in the valley.
The vineyard they were passing must have been an older one. The twisted, pointy vines were thick, but just starting their spring budbreak and all fighting for their place in the sun. She tilted her head, letting the sun warm her face too.
Her phone rang, startling her out of her thoughts. “Melissa . . .” she breathed, grabbing the phone from her purse. “Hello?”
“Why don’t you just tell me what’s wrong?”
“I’m fine,” Ali huffed. “Why are you calling?”
“Where are you?”
“I had to drop Carl’s stuff off at his parents’—“
“Ali, stop being nice to him. Make him pick up his own crap.”
“Lis, I have to go. I’m driving . . . I don’t want to get pulled over.”
“Fine, call me when you get home. I love you.”
“Love you, too.” She closed her phone and dropped it back in her purse then crossed her arms over her chest fighting not to tear up. Johnny didn’t question her and she was grateful. The silence was exactly what she needed and wanted.
When they started passing houses Ali finally spoke up. “We’re in St Helena.”
“So the sign said.” Johnny smiled. “Is there a place for lunch you can recommend or would you rather pick something up and go have a picnic somewhere.”
“You don’t seem like the picnic type of person.”
“I’m full of surprises. Stick around a while, maybe you’ll like what you find.”
She frowned and looked away. “I’m sure there’s a café up here on Main Street.”
When the traffic slowed, Ali took in the quaint little downtown area, and the people crowding the sidewalks, all creeping along, peering into the shop windows. Before she realized it, he was parking.
“It might be more fun to get out and walk instead of driving around until we find something.”
Ali felt so numb she didn’t think she could move, much less eat.
“I know you don’t feel like doing this, but you can’t put your life on hold because of Carl.”
Ali closed her eyes.
“Take a deep breath and get out of the truck.” She turned to look at him. He smiled and hopped out before walking around the truck and opening her door. She slid down, her hand locking with his as he helped her step away from the truck.
“You haven’t taken a deep breath yet.”
Ali inhaled and closed her eyes for a moment, and then tried to smile at him.
“Better?” he asked.
“Yeah . . . I think so.”
“Then let’s do this.” He grabbed her hand and pulled her along until they were on the sidewalk immersed with the window shoppers.
Without asking what she wanted, Johnny led her to a little sidewalk café with shaded patio seating. She didn’t care. She wanted to stop thinking, stop worrying, stop regretting, and stop feeling. She was so tired and completely drained emotionally.
When they were seated on the patio, Ali raised her eyes to look around. There were only two other tables taken out of ten. The sun was obstructed by the large umbrella over their table and the Jasmine growing up the side of the building was in full bloom and smelled
incredible. “Good choice.”
Johnny stared at her, making her self-conscious. Did she look as pathetic as she felt? She lowered her eyes again.
“What do you like? I can order for you,” he said.
“I’m not hungry.”
“You are eating something. It looks like you’ve lost at least fifteen to twenty pounds since Christmas.”
“I’d just given birth to Micah. I was still carrying baby fat.”
“Wrong answer. You’re too damn skinny. You have to stay healthy and strong for those boys.” He gave her a hard look. “You can either pick something or I’ll pick for you.”
“You know, bossy”—her head shot up and she narrowed her eyes—“You’re lucky I don’t have the energy to fight back right now.”
“If you eat something you will have the energy. Until then, I get to be the boss of you.” His hard expression softened and he leaned toward her. “You don’t get to wither away on my watch. When I see the sunshine back in your eyes, I’ll lay off.”
Heat pulsed through her, sending a rush of blood to her cheeks. She may be pathetic, but she didn’t need his pity. “I don’t need you to take care of me. I’m not some heartbroken fool who’s mourning the loss off her husband.”
“Really,” he said in a disbelieving voice.
“That’s right—as a matter a fact, I want to celebrate.” She glanced up when the waitress handed her a menu. “We’d like to start with a bottle of champagne.”
The waitress looked surprised, but smiled. “Okay, I have a Chandon Brut, it’s a local Yountville sparkling wine.”
“That’s perfect,” Ali said.
“I’ll be right out with that.”
When she walked away, Johnny said, “Champagne . . . really?”
She cocked an eyebrow at him. “You have a problem with that?”
“Oh, no. No problem at all. I fondly remember the last time we drank champagne together.”
Ali’s memory flashed to naked bodies and tangled sheets, forcing her to look away from his satisfied face.
“I guess you remember too.”
“Hard to forget,” she said. “That was a nice evening but don’t think St. Helena will have the same effect on me . . . we’re not in Hawaii.”