Leaving the house I built with Mark was a good decision. The distance between my old life has already proven to help. Mark still occupies my thoughts, but I no longer see him around every corner. I’m on the right path to let go of the pain and hurt and guilt that sometimes cripples me.
Now I see Adam around every corner. It’s his face that is filling the spaces of my new home. If I manage to work past the guilt I feel regarding Mark, maybe Adam can be a part of that second chance I long for. Sometimes I feel so close to being ready to accept all that Adam has to offer and other times he feels completely out of reach.
Something tells me when he decides to offer himself to someone, it’s everything dreams are made of. I want to experience that. I want to know how that feels again.
The logical side of my brain screams yes, but the emotional side of me continues to hold back. I don’t know how to push myself over the edge where I let Mark go and I welcome Adam in. Is it enough to just want him?
I’ve wanted to talk to him all week about how I pulled away after our kiss, but I don’t know how to broach the subject when there are always workers around.
Tonight, I won’t have that excuse. Before the night is up, I’m determined to talk to him. If we take things slow, then maybe—just maybe—I can know what it's like to be with a man again.
We arriveat The Wine Room shortly after seven. Ricky’s right—I probably wouldn’t have found this place on my own. It’s off the main road a few miles and the signage isn’t the greatest. It neighbors Adam’s family ranch and is part of the locally famous Rush Creek Ranch Vineyard.
“So the vineyard shares the name of your family ranch?” I ask.
“Yep. The land used to belong to my family. My great-grandfather started the vineyard and then decided it was too much for a horse breeder like him. He sold it. The new family decided to keep the name since it's connected to the land. There’s a creek named Rush Creek that separates our properties. It fits.”
“I like that.” I smile. Understanding the history of this area connects me to the community in a much more intimate way. Since this is my new home, I want that connection. “One day, when I feel up to it, I want to update those small cabins on my property and rent them out. Maybe even a portion of the chalet, too. I’ll have to think of a name connected to the land. If I ever get to that point.”
“I didn’t know you were considering rental property. You thinking a bed and breakfast?”
“Not really. More like a retreat for writers. In addition to writing, I teach a lot of workshops online. Sometimes in person at conferences and events. I’d love to have a space where writers can come, relax, spend a few days—or more if they need it—and concentrate on writing.”
Adam takes my hand in his and squeezes. My initial reaction is to pull away, but I don’t. I jerk slightly, hoping he doesn’tnotice, and then let myself relax under his comfort. It feels good to give into this small form of affection. It’s a baby step, but maybe that’s what I need to do in order to let him in.
“You should do it,” he says.
“Maybe. I’ve got a lot to learn about the business side of rentals, and there’s still so much work to be done.”
I feel his eyes on me, but I can’t bring myself to look at him. I’m not sure what I’ll do if I see his desire burning into me. Instead, I hold his hand and stare out the window.
“The work will get done. You should talk to some of the local bed and breakfast owners around here. I’m sure they’d love to offer you advice about the business.” The tone of his voice offers support and encouragement. It’s so much more than I’m getting from my family right now. It endears him to me even more.
I finally turn to look at him, and the compassion in his eyes brings a smile out of me. “I met Mrs. Kerns when I was in town today. Ran into your mother and she introduced us. Seems like a sweet woman.”
“Mrs. Kerns has run the B&B in town for decades. She’s one of the oldest residents in town. I know she’d love to help you out.”
Even in the darkness of Adam’s truck, I can see the want in his eyes. I can feel his desire.
I want to let all that desire into my life. I want to wrap my arms around his neck, and feel his skin—his lips—against mine. What would happen if I acted on these wants? Can I just let myself have him? Is it that easy?
He clears his throat and opens the door. “Come on. Let’s go introduce you to some of the best people in town.”
When he lets go of my hand, I miss the feel of it. I want it back. A few seconds later, he opens my door and helps me out. As we walk to the entrance, his hand gently touches the small of my back. It’s a light touch and anyone watching usprobably wouldn’t even notice. But I notice. It feels nice. Better than nice. It sends a jolt of electricity through me, and my mind immediately recalls that kiss I want to repeat.
He steps around me, taking his hand away, and I want to ask him to put it back. He opens the door and waves me in.
The Wine Room looks like something transported through space and time from some small rustic village in Italy. The rough wood walls, dark hardwood floors, and converted barrel tables and chairs combined with the old black and white family photos covering the walls gives it a welcoming, homey feel. One side is lined with a long wood top bar and an endless wine rack extending from floor to ceiling behind it.
“Adam.” A tall, dark haired man in the back waves at us. I recognize Ricky and Rachel immediately, but I haven’t met any of the other men at the table. The man who calls after Adam looks quite a bit younger, but equally as handsome.
“Hey, Matt.” Adam takes the man’s hand and they embrace in a comforting hug. “Camille, meet my brother, Matt.”
“Please, call me Cami.” I shake his hand with a smile.
“Nice to meet you.” Matt nods, his smile growing like he knows a secret.
“You know Ricky and Rachel,” Adam continues, “These two are good friends of mine, Ross Young and Wyatt Strong. Ross is a talented chef and Wyatt recently took over his family’s cattle ranch. The Strongs are another founding family in the area.”
