Sweet From the Vine

by Jacquie Underdown

  Don’t get him wrong, he worshipped Sophie, but he was a man as well as a father. And the man he was, needed acknowledgement that he existed, that he had needs, that he would go fucking crazy if life went on like this for any longer.

  Sam nodded. ‘I can’t say I know what it’s like, I didn’t get to see Livvy as a baby. But I do know what it’s like to be lonely.’

  Mitch’s head snapped around to look at his brother. He had said the one word Mitch had been dancing around. ‘It’s killing me. I hadn’t planned on this life.’

  ‘No. You didn’t. But you can change it.’

  He sighed. ‘I don’t want loneliness to be the reason I pursue Matilda.’

  Sam rolled his eyes. ‘We both know it’s more than loneliness pushing you two together.’

  He looked sidelong at his brother. ‘What?’

  Sam chuckled. ‘Oh, come on. I saw how you looked at her the moment you two met again. You still love her. You’re just too scared to see it. With Matilda and you, it’s always been love. God, when you were together way back when, I was so fucking jealous of you. Not only that you had this amazing girlfriend, but because you were so sure of your feelings for her. You never once tried to hide them. But I can tell that now you are trying to hide your feelings. And I can understand why. But you’re going to miss out on something really great because Matilda will move on, and you will regret it.’

  Mitch rubbed his hand over his jaw. His voice was hoarse when he said, ‘I need to go see her.’

  He went to stand, but Sam gripped his forearm before he could walk off. ‘Be certain first, Mitch, because this will be your last chance if it’s not too late already.’

  Mitch nodded but didn’t say anything.

  He strode out of the restaurant, to his car and climbed in.

  When he arrived at Matilda’s property, he had his first doubts if this was the right thing to do—to come to her house unannounced at this late hour.

  But he did not want to go home either. He had to set aside what he presumed he should and shouldn’t be doing for Rachel and the guilt that stirred. He had to finally embrace his feelings for Matilda.

  He may be too late, but this had to be done.

  When out of his car, he stood under the moonlight. Dim lights shone inside the house. He sighed with relief; she was still awake.

  At the front door, he hesitated for a fraction of time, then knocked hard. Strong nerves tugged in his stomach. He shook out his hands, trying to expel some of the tension.

  ‘Who is it?’ came her voice from behind the door.

  He checked his watch. Nearly midnight. He should have texted first, but he didn’t want to risk her telling him not to come over. Face to face was vital for this conversation.

  ‘It’s Mitch,’ he said, then cleared his throat.

  The lock clicked, then the door opened. She stood there in front of him, still wearing that tight red dress, but the high heels were gone and so was the hat. Her hair was down. Her makeup off.

  ‘Hi …’

  ‘Is everything okay?’ she asked, forehead furrowing.

  ‘Yeah.’ His throat bobbed. ‘I was hoping we could have a chat.’

  She glanced at a clock on the wall behind her. ‘Now?’

  ‘Yes.’

  With an impatient sigh, she gestured he come in. ‘You want a drink?’

  ‘I’m fine, thanks.’

  Matilda led him into the living room where they took a seat opposite one another on the lounges.

  She crossed her arms over her chest. ‘So what’s this about, Mitch?’

  ‘I …’ He looked away, then when his courage was in place, he finally met her gaze. ‘I need to be honest with you and in order to do that, I have to be honest with myself.’

  She didn’t say anything, just silently watched him.

  ‘Seeing you tonight—perhaps no-one else could tell, but I could—you were reserved.’

  A brow arched then fell quickly back into place.

  ‘To see you restricting yourself and forcing a smile on your face—’ he pushed his hand to his chest, ‘—I don’t want to be responsible for your unhappiness.’

  She shook her head impatiently, parted her lips to interject.

  ‘Please, Matilda, I want to get this off my chest.’

  She nodded and gestured he continue.

  ‘You were right about me,’ he said.

  ‘Oh?’

  ‘I didn’t take your feelings into consideration enough. It’s absolutely true. I didn’t even realise.’ He sat up taller as he raked a hand through his hair. ‘I’m sorry for that.’

  Again she shook her head, waved his apology away. ‘I get it, Mitch. I told you, it’s fine.’

  ‘Fine’s not good enough, Mati. I want you to feel more than fine.’

  Her eyes narrowed. ‘You’re not making a lot of sense.’

  He blew out a breath. This had never been his strong suit—communicating his emotions. ‘I’ve been seeing a grief counsellor these last couple of months.’

  She nodded.

  ‘I should have done it a long time ago, but I don’t think I was ready to, you know?’

  Again she nodded.

  ‘He doesn’t let me get away with much,’ he said with a wry laugh. ‘He doesn’t let me bullshit myself. I needed that, you know? Someone with enough emotional distance from me to not only spot the bullshit but also point it out.’

  She chuckled sardonically. ‘Sounds like my entire life with Mum.’

  He smiled. ‘She’s pretty good at that too. That must be why you’re skilled at saying how you feel.’

  She rolled her eyes. ‘I can lie to myself as good as the rest of them.’

  He leant forward, elbows on his knees and laced his fingers together. He stared at his hands for a long moment. ‘The counsellor has helped me separate everything out. It was like a big ball of confusion before, but he’s helped me untangle all my emotions and associate them with the right cause.’ He pressed his face into his hands and groaned. ‘God, am I even making sense?’

  Matilda’s gentle voice. ‘Yes.’

  He lifted his head and met her gaze. ‘With my emotions untangled, I am able to see things I wasn’t so clear about before. And I am able to see where I was lying to myself.’ He sat up straighter again. ‘I haven’t stopped thinking about you, Mati. Every second of the day. And I felt so much guilt about that because I thought I was betraying Rachel. So much guilt that I pretended my feelings for you weren’t as strong as they really are.’

  She went very still, her eyes locked to his.

  He lowered his voice to almost a whisper. ‘I’m not sure you realise, but that day when you turned up on the vineyard and I saw you again after so many years—every emotion I have ever felt for you returned in full force.’

  She closed her eyes. When she looked at him again, her eyes were watery, her voice wavering. ‘Wow. Okay.’

  He leant forward again, aching to dissolve the cavernous space between them. ‘After everything that has happened, with Rachel and Sophie, I wasn’t able to admit that. I couldn’t even see it clearly. I don’t think I wanted to believe how strongly I felt because it terrified me. I’ve loved two people in my lifetime, and they’ve both left me. I couldn’t risk getting hurt again. I thought it was all this grief about Rachel, but I think, as well, I was scared of you hurting me again …’ He shook his head. ‘I sound like a fucking kid.’

  He knew what his father would be saying right about now if he were still here—stop bloody whingeing, life owes you nothing, and get on with it.

  He stood, but she leant across the space between them and gripped his wrist to stop him from pacing away. ‘Mitch. You don’t sound like a kid. I may have been the one to break off our relationship back then, but it broke my heart too.’ She kept a grip on his arm but looked away. For a long moment, she didn’t say anything. When she gazed up at him again with her hazel eyes, within them was a depth of emotion that he couldn’t quite decipher. ‘I feel like I di
dn’t give you an appropriate explanation why I left. And maybe that was because back then, I didn’t know.’

  His shoulders hunched, head dipped.

  ‘Sit down, Mitch. Please,’ she whispered and let go of his wrist.

  He sat beside her and gripped his hands together between his knees.

  ‘I believed the small-town bullshit,’ she said. ‘I thought if I stayed here and got married and had kids, I’d be just another cliché. And I’m ashamed of that now because that’s what I did want. With you, Mitch. I wanted all that with you.’ She shook her head. Her sigh was an audible mix of anger and regret. ‘But I had to learn that the hard way. And I’m sorry it meant that I hurt you. But I was naive. And I was worried about what others thought of me. I hadn’t developed a strong sense of self. I think, honestly, I’ve only developed one these last few years when it comes to knowing what I truly want and deserve.’

  Mitch swallowed past the aching in his throat for all the pain he had endured from the day she left to the day she came back. ‘What do you want now?’

  Matilda didn’t look at him for a long while. ‘I want a life with you. I’ve never stopped wanting that.’

  His heart doubled pace for a few beats as that sunk in deep to his marrow.

  ‘But I can’t do that if you keep fighting against me.’

  He shuffled closer to her until his thigh butted against hers. ‘I won’t fight it anymore.’

  ‘I’m not sure I can believe you, though. And I’m not sure I can handle opening up to the possibility of an “us” only to have you run away again.’

  He shook his head, frowning deeply. ‘That won’t happen.’

  Her frown mirrored his. ‘I still can’t trust that you’ll keep your word.’

  ‘I can’t take back what I’ve now admitted to myself.’

  Her focus was on his face. ‘And what’s that?’

  Long seconds passed before the courage built up within him, enough to admit the truth not only to Matilda but to himself and to Rachel. ‘That I still love you.’ It felt so foreign on his lips to say those words to her and yet, it didn’t taste like a lie. It didn’t taste like guilt. It tasted like truth and hope and possibility.

  Her chest rose as she inhaled deeply. ‘You love me?’

  He reached for her hand and took it in his. ‘I’m not sure I ever stopped. I think I got used to living life without you.’ And that didn’t take anything away from his relationship with Rachel—his love for her was as deep and as full as his heart could take. That love wasn’t any less or any more, it simply was. As was his love for Matilda. The two weren’t the same, but they had existed simultaneously—they still did.

  He had proven he could love more than one person before, and he could continue to do so.

  ‘Tell me you feel the same, Mati, because now that I know all this, I can’t go back.’

  ‘I’m scared,’ she said, eyes downcast.

  ‘Tell me.’

  ‘I’m scared I won’t be enough for you.’

  He shook his head. ‘You’re more than I deserve.’

  ‘I’m scared you’ll hold back, and I’ll never get to see all of you.’

  His head dipped, then he met her gaze again, sure that all he wanted to say here tonight was the truth. ‘I’m a different man.’

  She nodded. ‘I know.’

  ‘Does that scare you?’

  She slowly shook her head. ‘I love who you were and who you are now.’ She pressed her hand against his chest, directly over his beating heart. ‘What I’m scared of is you holding back space in your heart, so there is not enough room in there for me.’

  ‘There’s room for every part of you.’

  She closed her eyes; her bottom lip trembled from emotion. He reached for her and ran his thumb over her lip, loving the way it moved to his touch.

  Still, her hand lingered against his chest even when she opened her eyes again, and he whispered, ‘Tell me you love me again.’

  She blinked. ‘I love you, Mitch Mathews.’

  Her words curled around his heart and held it gently, lovingly. He wondered how he could have ever resisted this between them—something so honest and deep.

  His face neared hers; their eyes locked. ‘I’m so glad you came home. I want you so much.’

  She drew even closer to him, her sweet scent a soft caress around him. ‘Prove you want me.’

  She didn’t have to expand on that; he knew what she meant—that he had to cross the line for her, with her.

  He would. Could. And he wouldn’t hold back this time. He would feel all that he could feel without restraint.

  He lifted to his feet, took her hands and helped her from the couch. His stomach was squeezing, not with guilt, not with nerves, but with desire and need. He did want her, and that wasn’t some spoken admission that would forever remain in the world of words; it was a plea.

  Holding her hand, he led her across the living room, down the hall and into her bedroom. His breaths were coming faster. Already his blood was gushing hotter, pumping harder through his body.

  Throbbing pangs of arousal were a force within him as he imagined, anticipated touching Matilda, loving Matilda.

  Inside her room, he gazed at her bed made up neatly with cushions and colour.

  That imposing piece of furniture was a symbol of so much more in this moment. It spoke of the line he was about to jump over, a line he once never thought crossable.

  This was his first commitment to embracing his future without Rachel in it. His first commitment to pursue a different way of existing. He was about to open the prison door and step outside into the sunshine.

  He didn’t know if it was the right choice—no-one knew the future. All he had to rely on was his own gut feeling that this was right.

  Turning to face Matilda, he looked into her eyes. She held his gaze the way she did everything in her life—with confidence, with poise—and in this moment, he never wanted anyone as much as he did Matilda.

  He ached for her, in his chest, his flesh, down into his marrow. Reaching for her face, he gently held her cheeks between his palms, his fingertips resting at her hairline.

  ‘Show me,’ she whispered right before he closed all the space between them and kissed her deeply. The sensation of her warm lips against his, her soft tongue sliding with his, became his world.

  As he shed Matilda’s clothes, slowly, painstakingly, and laid her on the bed, who he was before this moment fled from his mind.

  As he settled in close beside her nakedness, kissed her and worshipped every slope and nook of her body with his hands and mouth and tongue, he was right there with her. Only her.

  As he filled her with himself, her breath on his neck, her breasts to his chest, her legs and arms entwined with his, and the deepest, intimate pleasure of that union rocketed through him, he was fever high. Together they were fire, one body, one beating heart, one soul, ablaze.

  Afterwards, he took her in his arms and drew her head against his chest. Sleep reached for him, and he let it take him over. Before he drifted off into oblivion, he kissed her head and whispered, ‘I love you.’ And he did—a truth as deep as his bones.

  Chapter 23

  For fifteen years Matilda had ached to feel Mitch’s heat beside her again as she woke. But this was so much more than she could have imagined.

  Before coming home to Alpine Ridge, she possessed memories of who he was as a young man. Now as time and experience had grown within him, he was so much more than the memories she had stored.

  She rolled onto her side and wrapped her arm around his waist. Heat blasted outward from him, drenching her. She kissed his shoulder, loving the scent of his skin, the taut resistance of his muscles against her lips.

  Recollections of last night were everywhere—the rumple of the sheets, the tender ache between her thighs, the images that presented in her mind. Heat pooled again.

  Mitch stirred, breathed in deeply, lifting her arm as his chest expanded. She moved her hand over th
e firm inclines of muscles, the soft threads of hair at the centre. Her lips met the back of his neck and he exhaled.

  ‘Good morning,’ she whispered.

  He rolled over to face her, a morning-after smile curling his lips. A smile that admitted without words everything they did the night before.

  His lips pressed against hers. ‘Good morning.’

  She had expected that he wouldn’t have been able to prove to her that he could take their relationship to the next level, but the moment he had led her to this room, looked into her eyes and she saw the acceptance, desire, and anticipation within his tender gaze, there was nothing left to hold him back, and when he kissed her, the barriers were gone and he let go of everything, but her.

  Mitch proved he was a skilled lover—patient, powerful, invested on every level in the emotion and physicality of the act. When he had looked into her eyes, he had truly looked. When he had kissed her, he did so with all the passion he possessed. When he had whispered in her ear that he loved her, he had meant it.

  ‘Do you need to get back to Sophie?’

  He shook his head, his grin growing. ‘Not yet. Why, do you have something planned?’ His words were taunting.

  She shrugged. ‘I may have a plan up my sleeve.’ She glanced down under the sheet at her naked body and grinned when she met his eyes again. ‘Seems like there are no sleeves after all. But my plan will work better without clothes.’

  His lips slanted into a cheeky grin, but his features loosened as her suggestion obviously reignited his arousal. ‘I’m liking the sound of this plan more and more.’

  She shuffled closer to him until her bare chest was pressed against his and her stomach leant against his hard jutting arousal. ‘Feels like you may have an inkling.’

  He stroked the hair from her face, then caressed her shoulder, moving the sheet down as he inched lower, exposing her nakedness to him. ‘I may have an idea.’

  Already her breaths were shallower as the shadow of sexual excitement settled over her. She pressed against his erection and his eyes closed on a sharp inhale.

  She pushed his shoulder to roll him onto his back. He didn’t resist. Climbing on top, legs astride his lap, she leant forward and whispered in his ear, ‘I want you.’