When We Met

by Marni Mann

  They had five cases packed full of at least a hundred different varieties.

  I laughed at the thought. “You’re kidding?”

  “When it comes to food, I have no limits.” His stare dropped to my lips. “And there’s nothing I wouldn’t do to keep that smile on your face.”

  The scent of burgers filled the hallway as we got closer to my apartment, my stomach grumbling from the aroma and the fact that the coffee I’d had for breakfast was the last thing I’d swallowed. Time wasn’t something I’d had much of during today’s shift at work.

  “Mmm,” Caleb groaned as I opened the door. “Smells delicious.”

  “My girl can cook.” I grinned as I led us inside, immediately seeing Emily in the kitchen, dancing in front of the stovetop, the music too loud for her to hear us. “Honey, we’re home.”

  As she turned around, she was still using the spatula as a microphone, her hair tied into a messy bun, a bra under her white tank top. I could tell she was a few beers deep, letting me know we’d had similar days.

  “My two favorite peeps,” she said, turning down the volume and then throwing one arm around me and the other over Caleb. “Super happy you agreed to dinner.”

  “I’m sorry to crash girls’ night.”

  “No biggie,” she replied and backed up, seeing the two large boxes in Caleb’s hands that were double the size we normally brought home. “Did you buy dessert for the whole building?”

  I laughed, as I’d pretty much said the same thing to him when he placed his order. “Where’s the booze? I need to catch up.”

  She grabbed two beers from the fridge and handed them to us in exchange for the cookies, lifting the top to peer inside. “Oh, yes, that’s a whole lot of love right there.” She frowned as she glanced up. “My poor ass.”

  “And mine too,” I replied.

  She set the boxes on the counter. “Dinner will be ready in five. Now, get out before your bad-cooking juju makes everything burn.”

  Caleb was chuckling as I circled his hand.

  “I’m going to show him around.”

  “Don’t stop for a quickie, or the food will be cold by the time you’re done.”

  He smiled at me, our thoughts aligning.

  “That man is only capable of doing one thing quick, and that’s the speed in which he drives.”

  She looked at us from over her shoulder. “Caleb, send me some of your single friends who can drive that fast.”

  I was still giggling when I brought him farther into our tiny apartment. “This is it.” I nodded toward the small high-top with four stools and the couch and coffee table. “Dining and living room all in one, and through here”—I started walking toward the hallway—“are our bedrooms and the bathroom.”

  “This place is great,” he said from behind me, the walkway too narrow for both of us to fit.

  I stayed in the entrance of my bedroom while he went into the intimate space, looking at my framed photos. Some were from the holidays Emily and I had spent together—one from our trip to Cancun and another from Chicago, where we’d gone to a concert. As he held the one of my immediate family, taken when David had still been alive, I said the names of each of my siblings out loud, so he knew who everyone was.

  Once he placed the picture back, he lifted the notepad I had on my nightstand, leaving it closed. “Diary?”

  I smiled. “No, it’s where I keep all of my travel inspiration. Someone gave that to me as a gift.”

  He set it down and approached me. “Now, I can visualize where you sleep when you’re not in my bed.” He was holding my cheek and bending down to kiss me. Within a few moments, he pulled his lips away. “Get me out of this room before I throw you on that mattress and rip off your scrubs.”

  I hurried us into the hallway, and from here, I could see Emily was just putting the plates onto the table. Not having enough time to change, I took a sip of my beer and sat in my usual seat.

  “This looks excellent,” Caleb said, sitting next to me.

  “Wait until you try it,” I replied. “Emily makes the best burgers.”

  “They’re better than my singing, I promise.”

  I glanced at Caleb as he was adding ketchup to his fries. “You guys need a cook-off or a cook-together or something like that.”

  “Ohhh, I would love to get my hands dirty in your kitchen,” she said. “Whitney told me you have appliances she’s never seen before.”

  Caleb took a bite of his burger, and Emily and I watched him chew, waiting for his reaction.

  His eyes were signaling how much he was enjoying it, but he wiped his mouth before he commented, “My kitchen is yours anytime you want it.” He took another bite. “What do you put in here?”

  “It’s a secret ingredient.” She grinned, holding her beer. “But when I’m cookie drunk later, I might just be foolish enough to tell you.”

  While my best friend and the man of my dreams were discussing their favorite kitchen hacks, I couldn’t stop the happiness from filling me. Emily had hated all the men I dated in the past, but I could see her love for Caleb growing each second.

  It didn’t matter how tired I was; nothing compared to this feeling.

  Twenty-Seven

  “Good morning,” Caleb whispered into the back of my head.

  His alarm had gone off a few minutes ago, and we were soaking up our last few seconds together before I had to get in the shower and head to work.

  “Mmm,” I groaned as I rolled over and met his bare chest, resting my face on it, running my fingers through his small patch of hair.

  His body was always so warm, and he kept the air-conditioning at freezing temperatures, just like the hospital, so when I slept over, I buried myself against him.

  “How about I grab us some coffee, and I’ll meet you in the shower?”

  I leaned up, looking at his messy hair and the scruff that had grown overnight, a shadow that would only last until he washed up. “You’re not going running?”

  “My assistant texted me an hour ago, and I have to fly to San Francisco this morning to meet with a client.” He brushed several pieces of hair out of my face, his eyes so piercing and sexy in the sunlight. “Why don’t you come with me?”

  I moaned, pulling the blanket up to my neck, thinking how heavenly that sounded compared to my upcoming shift. I lowered it enough, so he could hear me when I said, “You know I would love that more than anything, but I have to work today.”

  “This is your last shift of the week, right?” I nodded, and he added, “Then, how about I get you a plane ticket for tomorrow morning, and you can meet me out there?” He brushed his fingers across my forehead, a touch that was light enough to cause goose bumps but powerful enough to tell me how badly he wanted me to come. “We can have lunch in the city and drive out to Napa, spend a few nights touring the vineyards. I can rent us a few ATVs, and we can ride up the mountains.”

  Our relationship felt like a dream, and so did his desire to whisk me away and show me different parts of the country I’d only fantasized about. But our work lives were extremely different. I wasn’t my own boss; therefore, I didn’t have his flexibility.

  “I only have three days off, and then the rotation starts over.”

  “I’ll get you back in time.” He kissed the spot he’d been touching. “Or you could use some of your vacation days.” His mouth moved to my neck, each caress like a tickle.

  I squirmed, the sensation overwhelming but not enough to make me move away. “I could probably take a day off, but I can’t do that every time I want to travel with you.” My voice turned softer. “Even if I want to.”

  He held my cheek steady. “Whitney, you can do anything you want. I know you love the family you work with, but you’re exhausted and burned out, and I sense you’ve felt this way for a long time. Why don’t you find what makes you happy?”

  “I have to be a nurse.”

  “But you don’t have to be one at the hospital.” He was quiet for a few moments. “Th
ere are expectations when it comes to my career. I have parents who expect me to take the reins of their business when they retire. You’re not in that predicament; you have options and opportunities everywhere you look.” His hand lowered from my face, moving to my heart, like his fingers were a stethoscope. “What is this telling you?”

  “That I’m tired and that I work to live.” My hands left his chest to grip the blanket, squeezing it into my palm. “And that it’s getting harder every day to bring myself there and endure these emotionally draining hours, knowing I’m going to be half-dead when I leave.” I thought of everything I’d given up for my job—the nights out with Emily, the weeklong trips she had wanted to take but I was unable to because I couldn’t manipulate my schedule. “I’ve missed so much.”

  “What you do is honorable, but you need to put yourself first. I don’t know if you’ve ever done that.” He traced underneath my eyes, each swish crossing the dark bags that hung there from never getting enough sleep. “Baby, you’ve got to start living.” He loosened my fingers from the blanket and brought them up to his mouth. “Ultimately, you’re the one who has to make the change; no one can do it for you.”

  I was sure my best friend would agree with him. My job was a topic we now discussed almost weekly, especially during the moments I was even too tired to eat. She had brought that up when she came over to Caleb’s to cook us dinner a few days ago, which was almost two months after our burger meal because I hadn’t been able to coordinate our schedules with all the overtime I’d taken on.

  Since David’s death, change terrified me more than anything, and leaving my job was like jumping straight into the change pool.

  I just didn’t know if I could handle that yet.

  “Let me think about it,” I replied.

  “I would be more than happy to help you get your finances sorted, at least giving you the freedom to work a little less during the interim.”

  What Caleb was extremely successful at had never been one of my strengths. Between my student loans and rent along with the overall cost of living in such an expensive city, I was barely getting by. Without my extra hours every week, I wasn’t certain if I’d be able to cover all my bills. I was sure there was something he could do to help fix that even if it meant consolidating my debt.

  I knew he wasn’t trying to change me. He was trying to make me a better version of myself.

  “When we get back from our trip, that would be really wonderful.”

  “I take it that means you’ll be flying out tomorrow and missing a day of work at the end?”

  I nodded and grinned.

  “Good answer.” He kissed my cheek. “Now, go get the shower warm. I’ll be there in a minute with coffee.”

  Before I climbed out, I wrapped my arms around his neck and hugged him against me, my fingers crawling into the back of his hair to pull him closer. As his arms circled me, I was lost inside Caleb, in the heat of his skin, in the scent that I searched for during the moments we were apart, in every emotion that came through in his touch.

  “Thank you … for all the things.”

  He tightened his grip. “You never have to thank me for caring about you, Whitney. All I want is for that smile to stay on your lips forever.”

  Twenty-Eight

  The farthest west I had ever been in the States was Chicago, a last-minute trip Emily and I had booked when we graduated college to attend a Black Eyed Peas concert. Aside from the Gulf of Mexico, the Atlantic was the only ocean I’d ever seen. I’d admired the Pacific in photographs and movies, dreaming about the California beaches and waves large enough to surf. And now that I was here, flying over the coast, I couldn’t pull my face away from the window, taking nonstop pictures with my phone. The beauty from the sky was so immense; I was having a hard time processing what I was seeing.

  It was even more spectacular from the ground, especially as I rushed into Caleb’s arms once he pulled up outside the terminal of the San Francisco Airport.

  “I missed you,” he groaned as I buried my face in his neck.

  “You have no idea how much I missed you.”

  It had only been a day since we’d seen each other, but being on the other side of the country made it feel much longer.

  As we drove through the city with the convertible top down, I learned the sun felt different on this coast. The air was wet. The winding, narrow, steep streets resembled nothing of New England.

  Caleb took me to lunch at a wonderful Greek restaurant, and then we made our way out to Napa. I’d never been to a winery, and I certainly hadn’t ever seen the rolling hills filled with grapevines. The mist was hanging low over the mountains around us, like the magical stories that had been read to me as a kid.

  As the breeze blew through my hair, the clean and rainy smell in my nose, I squeezed Caleb’s fingers that were holding my thigh. “I love it here.”

  There was a smile on his lips when he briefly turned to me. “You haven’t seen any of the best parts.”

  “Doesn’t change my opinion. I’m captivated.”

  He moved his fingers to the back of my neck, his thumb brushing up to my cheek. “You don’t have to wait much longer; we’re almost there.”

  Within a few minutes, he was driving up a section of pavement that was mostly hidden from the main road, the asphalt disappearing and turning into dirt. The path weaved right and left, keeping us close to the mountain edge, the tires crunching as we went over the small pebbles.

  I knew nothing about where we were staying, only his obsession with surprising me. But when he approached a mansion that sat at the very peak and parked directly in front of it, my jaw dropped.

  “Holy shit, Caleb.” The two-story house was covered in rocks of different muted colors with a red arched roof and tall glass panes that I knew were overlooking the vineyards below. “Is this yours?”

  His stare penetrated right through me, and I could tell he was appreciating my amazement, his hand tightening on my leg. “If you want it to be, I can make that happen.”

  I knew he was being serious. What this man was capable of was as shocking as this home. “I don’t even know how to respond to that.”

  “You don’t have to right now. If you fall in love with the house, it can be ours.”

  Just as my expression deepened, he got out of the car and came around to open my door. We clasped hands, and he helped me onto my feet.

  “Tampa is my escape, but that doesn’t mean it has to be yours. If you’re more comfortable in Napa, then we’ll come here.”

  This was one of those moments where words completely escaped my brain, where there was nothing I could say to show him how he made me feel. But I was positive my face was doing all the talking for me, and I knew he could read it, especially when he wiped the tears from my eyes.

  “You deserve it, baby.” He kissed me, and my arms wrapped around his neck. “Come on. I want to show you inside.”

  We moved toward the front door and stepped into the grand entrance. A woman wearing a chef’s coat immediately walked toward us with two glasses of white wine on her tray.

  With a warm grin reaching as high as her eyes, she handed us the drinks. “I thought you might like something cold and tart after your drive.” She tucked the tray under her arm. “I’m Anna, your executive chef during your stay.” After we introduced ourselves and shook her hand, she continued, “I’ve set up a charcuterie board for you in the backyard, and since it’s a little damp out, I had Max start you a fire.” Something told me Max was her helper, but she never defined his role. Instead, she went on to say, “Max will bring your luggage inside, and dinner is scheduled for eight. Unless you’d prefer a different time?”

  We shook our heads.

  “Great. Let me know if I can get you anything.”

  We thanked her, and Caleb’s hand went to my lower back, guiding me through several rooms as we headed toward the back of the house. We passed the most stunning fireplace and furniture that resembled comfort without being too
strict or stifling. Antique-looking beams ran across the ceiling.

  The second I stepped outside, “My God,” fell from my lips.

  There was a one-hundred-and-eighty-degree view of grapevines, spreading as far as we could see. The fog was even lower back here, rolling across certain areas, much higher in others, the clouds thick above us. There were mountains in the distance and on both sides, the rock a variety of grays and purples with lush foliage.

  This was a town that whispered its beauty, its noise a quiet tick of nature.

  And I was completely lost in it.

  Caleb led us to the fire, where the chef had set up the spread. Rather than taking a seat, we stayed standing by the mountain edge, and he moved in behind me.

  His arm rested across my chest, his face in my neck. “I thought you looked gorgeous in the Florida sun.” He kissed my skin, breathing me in. “But I’ve never seen you this beautiful.”

  I closed my eyes, feeling the emotion return, and when the tears started to drip, I turned and faced him. “You’re making every one of my dreams come true.”

  His lips brushed across mine. “I’m not ever going to stop.”

  Caleb hired a driver to take us to several different wineries. We toured each of their facilities and had tastings to sample their collection. Some were large scale, distributing to stores and restaurants, bottles that we’d been drinking since we had started dating. Some were more intimate, family-owned establishments, and those were my favorite.

  We were ending the day with the most charming one, sitting in the back of their main building, where hundreds of barrels were aging inside, our chairs placed so we could overlook the incredible scenery. The vintner’s daughter had set out several plates of snacks that paired with our glasses of pinot noir.

  I was chewing a rice cracker that I’d layered with prosciutto and a creamy goat cheese, a slather of fig jam on top, when I said, “This is definitely my place.” My voice was light, the wind carrying most of the words away, but I knew he’d heard me.