“So good to see you,” Dee says once she lets go of me.
“You too. How’s Denver?”
“It’s great, really. You were right about going. I’m glad I did. But…” She glances over at Dale, who’s talking to his brother in a corner.
“You’re worried about Dale,” I finish for her.
“Yeah. Those vines…”
“They mean everything to him,” I finish again. “He’ll be okay.”
She nods. “I’m glad he has you.”
I raise my eyebrows. I haven’t told Dee about Dale and me.
“Mom filled me in,” she says. “I hope you don’t mind.”
“Of course not. I would have told you myself, but…”
“I understand. Dale is very private.”
“He is.”
“I’d ask how my big brother compares to your other exploits,” she says, “but I’m pretty sure I don’t want to know.”
My other exploits.
Wow. I haven’t given my other exploits a lot of thought since Dale catapulted into my life.
I’m experienced. Really experienced.
And Dale… He knows what he’s doing sexually but not romantically. He’s hardly experienced.
I smile as the memory of him spanking me slides into my mind. That was fucking hot.
“I don’t kiss and tell, anyway,” I say.
“The hell you don’t! I seem to recall you telling me about an orgy—”
“Shh!” I warn.
Dale is out of earshot, but I don’t want anyone else overhearing—
Too late. Brock saunters up to us, holding a martini glass, his dark eyes gleaming. “What’s this I hear about an orgy?”
Just kill me. Kill me now.
“Better not be anything you’re involved in, Dee,” he continues.
“Not that it’s any of your business, baby cousin,” Dee says, “but I can’t say I’ve ever had the pleasure.”
He turns to me, smiling slyly. “Now why am I not surprised?”
“This is so not happening,” I say.
“Crap,” Dee says. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”
“At least not so loudly,” I agree.
“I promise not to breathe a word of it”—Brocks waggles his eyebrows—“on the condition that you tell me all about it. Every last detail.”
“Sure, I’ll do that.” I shake my head and roll my eyes. “Sometime around the fifth of never.”
“Then I might just get that talking feeling,” he says teasingly. “I haven’t talked to Dale in a while. We have a lot to catch up on.”
“Quit being a dick,” Dee says.
“I’m just teasing,” Brock replies with a laugh.
I’m not sure I believe him. “It was nothing. Just a little too much drinking one night at a party, and all the women took off their shirts. Nothing really happened.”
Other than I fucked two men at once and then had a threesome with another and a woman. But I’m keeping that to myself. Other than that, my stimulation was purely visual, and boy, was there a lot to see.
Brock licks his lips. “Please tell me you all sucked each other’s tits.”
“Didn’t happen,” I say. Though it did.
“Maybe felt each other up a little?” Brock asks hopefully.
“Nope.” Except, yep.
“Leave her alone, Brock,” Dee says. “It’s obvious she’s dopey in love with Dale.”
Brock takes a sip of his dirty martini. “Doesn’t mean she didn’t have her fun before she met him.”
“Oh my God.” I will myself not to pull out a fistful of Brock’s thick hair. “Just stop this. Now.”
He steps back in mock surrender. “Okay, okay. I hope Dale knows how lucky he is.”
“He does,” Dee answers for me.
If lucky means a woman who’s infinitely more experienced than he is. But romantically, we’re both novices. I’ve had a few relationships here and there, but never anything serious. I know I’ve had a lot more sex than he has.
Still…that spanking…
He wanted to get rough.
I’ve always shied away from any kind of kink. Wasn’t my thing, or so I thought.
Apparently I was wrong.
It’s definitely my thing now, but only with Dale.
Actually…I never want anything except with Dale. Damn. I want way more than these two months.
I want a lifetime with him. By his side, working together, making great wines.
And all he’s promised me is two months.
I’m so fucked.
Chapter Seventeen
Dale
My brother is home. He’s laughing with Henry and Ava at the moment, while dueling forces keep my mind churning. I stand with them, but I’m not involved in the conversation. They laugh and chat while I stand and burn inside. And not in a good way.
First, my birth father’s revelation. I originally decided not to tell Donny, but now I’m caught. He has the right to know. On the other hand, Donny has succeeded in erasing that part of his life from his mind. Who am I to bring it all screaming back?
Second, Brock. Brock and Ashley. My womanizing cousin is coming on strong, and it’s pissing me off to no end.
Uncle Joe, Brad, and his girlfriend are in the heated pool. Heat isn’t necessary for Uncle Joe, though. The man would swim in ice-cold water. He’s a born fish. So is Brock, but instead of prancing around in his Speedo, he’s homing in on Ashley.
Fuck. It. All.
“What do you think, Dale?”
I jerk at my brother’s voice. “Think about what?”
“Thanksgiving this year,” Donny says. “It falls on Uncle Ryan and Aunt Ruby’s anniversary.”
“Gina and I want to do something spectacular,” Ava chimes in. “We were thinking a big party at the winery. Aunt Marj and I will handle the cooking. Turkey and all the trimmings, of course, and I’ll supply the bread.”
“Seriously?” I say. “You want to party when we’ve lost half the Syrah?”
“We all feel your loss, bro,” Donny says, “but most of it was harvested. We’ll still have—”
“What do you mean we, Don?” I ask, not nicely. “Those vines are mine, not yours. You don’t give a rat’s ass about any of my work.”
“Wait just a minute,” Donny says.
“Easy,” Henry pipes in. “We all know how much the Syrah means to you, Dale, and we’re all glad you’re okay and that you don’t have any effects from being caught in the fire. But none of that takes away from Uncle Ry and Aunt Ruby’s celebration. This is the first year for the old-vine Syrah.”
“Make that the only year,” I say. “The vines are gone.”
“Half the vines are gone,” Donny says. “And they could come back.”
“There’s no guarantee,” I say.
“Damn, Dale. Why is the glass always half empty with you? You lost half, yeah. But you still have half. As for the loss, of course there’s no guarantee they’ll come back. Life doesn’t give you any guarantees. For God’s sake, you and I know that better than anyone.”