“Um, yeah, thanks.” I know I look ordinary, especially compared to Axel’s on-trend look, but I accept the compliment anyway. I indicate the booth and lead him back to the secluded alcove. We slide into the soft leather seats, knees brushing under the table. An electric candle flickers on the dark wood tabletop, casting a warm glow. The ambiance is intimate and romantic.
I can hardly believe I’m here with him. As I gaze into his eyes, I feel the flickering of something special. He’s captured my interest so completely and unexpectedly. I want to move onto the seat beside him and feel the heat of his body, I want to take his face between my hands and press my lips to his. I want… I want whatever he’ll offer me.
Before I’m tempted to climb across the table and throw myself at him, I reach for the leather-bound wine list. “What are you in the mood for? White? Red? Or something different?” I ask, glancing up at him.
He leans in, forearms on the table and peers at the list for a blink or two before sitting back. “I’ll defer to the expert here. How about you surprise me with something special?”
After a day where Axel surprised me with the private tour and I didn’t need to make a single decision, warmth blooms in my chest at his trust, and the opportunity to show him some of my world. I flag down the sommelier and order a couple of glasses of sangiovese from Tuscany. Later I’ll show him one from my local area.
As we wait for our wine, I find myself talking about life on the vineyard. “My brother John and I run the family property together. We outsource our wine production to a local winemaker, but we’re still very involved in the process. My family has been tending the same vines for generations. There’s something magical about nurturing the land, watching the fruit ripen under the sun. We grow sangiovese among other things, so I thought it would be fun to try one from Italy.”
Axel listens intently, his gaze never leaving mine, asking thoughtful questions about the different grape varieties, and the challenges of winemaking. I love how he shows an interest in every word.
Our wine arrives and we each take a glass, the garnet liquid catching the candlelight as we bring the glasses together.
“To new beginnings,” Axel says.
I flush at his words.God, I hope this is the beginning of something.I push aside the thought that our friendship is destined to only last days. “To new beginnings.”
The wine is delicious. A rich, earthy vintage.
“Kyle, this is incredible,” Axel says. “Not that I know much about wine, but you’ve chosen well.”
A blush warms my cheeks and I chuckle. “Thanks. I’d like to think my wine experience has translated well to my palate.”
“Tell me more. How do you make a good wine?”
“Growing grapes and making wine is a combination of science and art. Figuring out which grapes will thrive in certain soils, when to harvest to ensure the best possible result…” I lose myself in talk of terroir and tannins, enjoying sharing my world.
Axel holds out his glass and swirls the liquid. “So you make this type of wine?”
“Sangiovese, yes. But ours tend to be a little fruitier than the Italian style that tend to have more acid and tannins. Let’s try one and you can see the difference.”
The conversation flows as easily as the wine as I answer Axel’s winemaking questions but as we sip our second glass of wine, the conversation takes a more personal turn.
“So you said it’s a family business? That you work with your brother?” Axel says.
“My dad passed away a few years ago from a heart attack.” My voice catches slightly. It still feels like yesterday and I miss his presence in my life. “Dad was a big man, in size and personality. It was a shock to lose him. And my mum… she died when I was born, so I never really knew her. So it’s just been me and John running the farm ever since.”
Axel reaches across the table, his hand covering mine. “I’m so sorry, Kyle. That must have been incredibly tough, losing your parents like that.”
I take comfort from the touch, and nod, blinking back the sudden burning behind my eyes. “It was. But John… he’s been my rock. I don’t know what I would’ve done without him.”
“I can relate to the no parents thing,” Axel says quietly. “My upbringing was pretty broken. Dad abandoned us when I was just a kid, and my mum… she turned to drugs to cope.”
“Jesus!” My heart clenches at the pain in his voice. I turn my hand beneath his, interlacing our fingers in a silent show of support.
“And then there’s my little brother, Rick,” Axel continues, his jaw tightening. “He’s only eighteen, but he’s already following in our mother’s footsteps. We never even found out who his father is. I’ve tried to be there for him, to guide him, but… he’s in rehab now. I just hope it’s enough.”
“Hey,” I say softly, squeezing his hand. “Rick is lucky to have you, Axel. Believe me, having a brother who cares, who’s willing to fight for you… it makes all the difference.”
His eyes meet mine. “Thanks. I really needed to hear that.”
He offers a small smile and sits back in his seat, breaking contact. I miss his touch immediately. As I look at him, his chiseled features softened by the candlelight, I feel a surge of protectiveness, a desire to shield him from any more pain. To be his rock, just as John has been for me, because I sense he needs someone to be there for him.
Axel takes a sip of his wine, then sets the glass down, his fingers drumming against the stem. “You know, being there for Rick… it’s been tough. Especially with my career.”
My brow furrows. “What do you mean?”
