Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 78634 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 393(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78634 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 393(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
“Next time,” he whispered, as he gently swept my hair back. “You look like you’re about to pass out.”
“But it’s not fair. You made me feel incredible and got nothing in return.” My words were starting to slur. It was too much effort to keep my eyes open.
“Not true. I thoroughly enjoyed that.”
“Still not fair.” I wasn’t sure if I said that out loud or just thought it before sleep dragged me under.
The next morning, I once again woke up wrapped around Embry—only this time, I was buck naked. That instantly made me feel self-conscious, so I slipped out of bed, being careful not to wake him.
I grabbed some clothes and hurried to the bathroom. Then I turned on the shower and stood under the stream of hot water for a while, lost in thought.
This was a lot to process—though not the part about being intimate with a man, surprisingly. I’d been working on redefining my sexuality ever since I realized I was attracted to Embry. Apparently he was attracted to me too, which was a newsflash. Now that we’d finally acted on that mutual attraction, it felt right.
But I needed to figure out what happened next. Of course, I planned to talk to Embry and get his take on all of this, but first I wanted to get a handle on my own thoughts and feelings.
Were we going to start dating? Embry and I lived under the same roof, so how was that going to work? Also, what if it didn’t work out? Then what? We still had a year of pretending to be married ahead of us, which would be incredibly awkward if we decided to break up in real life.
And there was that overthinking I’d managed to avoid the night before.
Not that this was the time for a lot of introspection. We had brunch to get to, and then we had to make our excuses, get out of here, and get back to San Francisco.
I finished up in the shower and hurried through the rest of my morning routine. Then I paused with my hand on the door handle and took a deep breath. Was this going to be awkward? Would things feel different between us? Did Embry think what happened last night was a mistake?
Wow. I really needed my brain to shut up.
When I went into the bedroom, Embry was just Embry—sweet and cute and upbeat, like always. He said, “Merry Christmas, Bry,” and gave me a hug.
“Merry Christmas.”
He’d already gotten dressed, and he said, “I want to take Dusty for a walk before brunch. Will you come with me?”
“Definitely.” He spent a couple of minutes in the bathroom, and then we bundled up and headed outside with the dog.
Embry linked his arm with mine, and Dusty trotted along happily in his little, red doggie sweater. It was cold enough to see our breath. Fog hung in the air, and a thin layer of frost covered everything. Embry said, “It looks like the whole world was dipped in sugar.”
“You’re right.”
As we made our way down a dirt path between rows of dormant vines, he asked, “Will you please bring me back here in the spring, and summer, and fall? I want to see the grapes when they’re tiny and green, and later when they’re big and purple. Then I want to come back and see them get turned into wine.”
“Absolutely.”
“Good. That’ll be fun.” After a minute, he glanced at my profile and asked, “Did you bring Christmas presents for your family?”
“I sent the gifts to their home addresses. They got them last week.”
“What did you send?”
“Everyone always gets a gourmet gift basket from a company I’ve used for years. I also send imported cigars to Uncle Charles, and a very nice cognac to Granddad.”
“You do the same thing, year after year?”
“Yeah. It’s all set up on auto-delivery.”
“And what do they give you in return?”
“Wine, mostly.” When I glanced at him, he was frowning. “You don’t approve?”
“I didn’t say that. It all sounds very nice.”
“But?”
“It’s a little impersonal, don’t you think?”
“Yeah, I suppose it is.”
“Let me help you next year,” he said. “I’m sure we can come up with some fun ideas.”
I tried to imagine my life a year from now. Assuming everything continued to go well, I would have just received my inheritance. The plans for my new restaurant should all be mapped out by then, so the first thing I’d do when I got the money would be to secure a location.
From that point forward, my life was going to become totally consumed with getting the restaurant up and running. I couldn’t let this one fail. I just couldn’t. I’d have to put everything I had into it—all my time, all my focus…
Where would that leave Embry and me?
I hoped we’d be a real couple by then. But what would happen to us once I opened my restaurant and was working a million hours a week to make it a success?