I sat next to her without speaking. The November night was cool, stars were visible above us, and faint sounds of conversation drifted from inside the house.
“He’s given up,” she murmured.
“I know.”
“He’s already accepted losing everything.”
“I think you’re right.”
Silence stretched between us.
“I should tell him about the wine.”
“Should you?” I asked.
She turned toward me. “I don’t know. I mean, he seems at peace. And if I give him hope and things don’t go the way I want them to, then what?”
I wanted to assure her that if her dream about the Christmas Blessing Wine didn’t turn out the way we both wanted it to, there were other options. Lots of them. Some of which could be handled with a simple phone call. But I didn’t. That would be giving up before we had the chance to succeed. And Saffron needed that success. As much for herself as for her family.
Back in thebedroom hours later, we moved around each other, getting ready for bed. The silence was weighted with everything I hadn’t said and wondered if I should have. We brushed our teeth, standing next to each other, going through the motions without speaking. In bed, we lay side by side, staring into each other’s eyes.
I cupped her cheek. “Saffron, I love?—”
She kissed me, stopping me from finishing what I wanted to say, to tell her, more than anything else. I loved her. I was in love with her, and I wanted to spend the rest of my life showing her exactly how much.
I drew her closer, and she came willingly, pressing against me. We made love, slow and quiet, saying with our bodies what she wouldn’t let me say with words. Her hands in my hair. Mine tracing her spine. Both of us desperate and gentle and aching.
After, we lay tangled, her head on my chest and my hand in her hair.
It was like we were in a holding pattern. Until we knew that our plan worked, we couldn’t move forward with our lives. But we were here, holding each other, and for now, that had to be enough.
Morning arrived gray and subdued.We packed our things in silence.
Downstairs, the family gathered to say goodbye.
Lucas took me aside. “Thanks for coming. It meant a lot to Saffron. To all of us.”
“Thanks for having me, sir.”
Diana hugged us both. “Drive safe.”
Felicity appeared with Beatrice. “See you soon. And, Saff?” She waited until her sister gazed at her. “Tell him.”
“I will,” she said almost too quietly for me to hear.
We climbed into my truck and left. Four hours back to Paso Robles stretched ahead of us.
The first hourpassed mostly in silence. Saffron looked through the window at vineyards rolling past, and I kept my eyes on the road.
“I do, you know.”
“Do what?” I asked.
“Feel the same way. About you.”
My gut clenched and my heart soared at the same time.
“But I’m scared,” she continued. “Terrified, actually. Of needing you this much. Of what happens if?—”
