Page 17 of Vineyard Dreams

Harper broke their eye contact and topped up their glasses. She had no idea how this had happened. She’d admired Elle from the first time they’d met, but now, Harper felt like she couldn’t go back to that. She was already falling for Elle, someone who had been nothing but friendly, welcoming.

She couldn’t mess this up with Elle. She just couldn’t.

The second bottleof Pinot Noir breathed on the coffee table. Harper watched as Elle swirled the wine in her glass. They’d polished off the first bottle with surprising ease, the conversation flowing as smoothly as the wine. The initial heaviness that Elle had carried into the house had dissipated, replaced by a relaxed warmth that Harper found utterly captivating. They’d talked aboutLenafor a while longer, but then the conversation drifted away from the film, and Elle had steered it towards Harper’s personal life.

“So,” Elle had asked, “is there anyone special in your life?”

Harper had hesitated, swirling the wine in her own glass, the question hanging in the air between them.

Elle had filled the silence. “What struck me about your performance the most was that scene with Clara and the raw grief that you captured so well. Thinking about it now, I guess, I just assumed that you had somewhere to pull that from, that you’d loved someone like that before.”

“No,” Harper admitted finally, her voice soft. “I never have. I’ve had meaningful relationships, but nothing like that. Nothing that lasted more than a year.”

“Really?” Elle raised an eyebrow, a hint of surprise in her voice.

Harper had laughed. “Relationships in Hollywood are… complicated.”

Now, Harper was topping up their glasses again. She was buzzed but nicely so. She wasn’t at the point yet of worrying about saying something she shouldn’t, although if she wasn’t careful, that could easily happen.

Harper asked the question that had been on her lips since Elle had asked her if she was seeing anyone. “So… You asked me earlier if I was seeing anyone.”

Elle’s eyes met hers for a few seconds before she looked away. She took a sip of her wine, her gaze lingering on the glass for a moment before returning to Harper.

Harper kept going, her heart tapping a quick rhythm against her ribs. “What about you? Have you… Have you dated anyone since…?” She trailed off, unsure how to phrase the question. Since Stephanie.

A shadow passed over Elle’s face before a small, almost wistful smile came to her lips. “No,” she answered, her voice soft.

Harper nodded before taking a sip of her own wine. She wasn’t sure why she felt so nervous. It was just a question, after all. A simple one.

“It’s hard,” Elle continued. “Putting yourself out there again. After such a long time.” Elle met her gaze. “It’s not that I haven’t wanted to,” she admitted. “But there’s a part of me that’s still… Afraid, I guess.”

Harper reached out, her hand hovering over Elle’s for a moment before gently resting on top of it.

“It’s okay to be afraid,” Harper said softly, her thumb brushing over Elle’s knuckles.

Elle squeezed her hand, her gaze holding Harper’s with an intensity that made her breath catch in her throat. “It’s just… it’s been so long since I’ve felt… this.”

“This?” Harper echoed, her heart pounding in her chest. She barely broke their eye contact as she put her glass on the coffee table and faced Elle fully. Surely, she’d misheard her.

Elle’s eyes searched hers, her gaze filled with both vulnerability and desire. “This spark” she said, her voice husky.

A warmth spread through Harper, a slow burn that started in her chest and radiated outwards.Spark. The word hung in the air between them, charged with an unspoken energy. She felt it too, a pull towards Elle that she hadn’t felt in... well, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt anything like it. Not since Caroline, but Harper pushed her ex out of her mind just as quickly as she’d entered it. Elle was nothing like Caroline. Well, they were probably about the same age, but that was where the similarities ended.

Elle’s hand tightened around hers, her thumb stroking the back of Harper’s hand in a slow, deliberate caress. The simple gesture sent a wave of goosebumps rippling across Harper’s skin. The air crackled with anticipation.

Harper’s gaze dropped to their intertwined hands, her thumb tracing the delicate lines of Elle’s palm. She wanted to look up, to meet Elle’s eyes, but she was almost afraid to.

“I...” Harper started, her voice barely above a whisper. She cleared her throat, trying to find the right words. “I feel it too.”

Elle’s thumb continued its slow, rhythmic caress. Harper’s gaze finally lifted, meeting Elle’s. The intensity in Elle’s eyes, the raw emotion that shimmered just beneath the surface, took Harper’s breath away.

Elle’s hand moved from Harper’s, her fingers gently cupping Harper’s cheek. The warmth of her touch sent a wave of heat through Harper’s body, a fluttering sensation that centered in the pit of her stomach. Her breath hitched, her gaze locked on Elle’s.

The space between them closed, their lips brushing in a feather-light touch that sent a shockwave through Harper’s system. Her heart raced as Elle’s lips pressed against hers, soft and tentative. She responded instinctively, her own lips moving in a gentle caress. The kiss was slow, exploratory, a delicate dance of give and take.

Elle’s hand slid from Harper’s cheek to the nape of her neck, sliding beneath her hair. Harper’s own hands found their way to Elle’s waist, her fingers curling into the fabric of her shirt.

The world around them faded away, and Harper’s mind went blissfully blank, all thoughts of the vineyard, of her career, of the expectations weighing on her shoulders, melting away.

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