Page 57 of Everything We Left Unsaid

Abby

The winery isjust as I remember it. A century-old stone building perched atop a gentle rolling hill, with a wooden watermill clicking and creaking as it turns its slow rotation into a narrow stream. It’s too dark to make out the rows of grapevines sprawling across the landscape as far as the eye can see, but they’re still there. A light breeze carries the sweet aroma of ripe grapes nearly ready for harvest and the earthy scent of soil and leaves toward us, revealing their hiding place under the darkened sky.

When we enter the restaurant, it’s buzzing with activity. Unlike our last visit here, the winery is open to the public and by the looks of it, a very popular dinner destination.

“Ah, Mr. Daniels,” a man in a wine-colored polo greets Jacob and reaches for his hand. “It’s been too long,” he offers with a smile. I remember him from before but don’t recall his name. He’s the one who gave us the tour and chauffeured us around on a golf cart.

“Martin.” Ah, that’s it. “It’s good to see you again.” Jacob takes his proffered hand and they shake like old friends. Martin turns his attention toward me, releasing Jacob’s hand to take mine.

“And you, Ms. Harris,” he begins. “Or is it Mrs. Daniels now?” he inquires expectantly, his eyes pinging back and forth between Jacob and me.

“Uh,” I stammer, unsure how to respond.

“Not yet,” Jacob saves me. “Maybe someday.” The heat of his gaze warms my cheeks and my eyes drift to his. He smiles at me, a contented look softening the icy blue depths of his irises.

Yes, maybe someday,I think.

“Yes, well,” Martin continues, unflustered, a hopeful gleam in his eye. “Keep us in mind if that someday ever comes. We host weddings here from April ‘til October.” His big, cheesy grin grows even wider, and I like him in spite of it.

He checks his ledger for our reservation and leads us to our table once he confirms it. Our table is laden with crystal and crisp white linens, simple menus the color of burlap resting atop each place setting. Jacob pulls out my chair and waits for me to sit and scoot in before taking the seat across from me.

We watch each other from across the divide, our eyes never leaving one another, not even to look at our menus. I don’t think the grin has left his face since the maybe someday comment. Feeling the corners of my lips turn up in response to his happiness, I let out a little giggle and his smile grows.

“It’s unreal being back here with you. I never thought I’d see you again, let alone return to the place where I had the most amazing date of my life,” he confesses. Warmth blooms, starting low in my belly and unfurling to my chest before filling my entire body. “And with the only woman I’ve ever loved.”

I try to keep my breathing steady but it quickens, the need to draw in air almost as strong as my need to feel his skin against mine.

The only woman he’s ever loved.

The distinction makes me feel alive, wanted, special. No one else has ever won his heart. Not his first kiss or high school sweetheart. No coeds at his Ivy League university or a colleague at work. Just me. I feel like the most important woman in the world. Having Jacob’s heart is like winning the lottery, but with a more satisfying pay-out.

“It was the best date of my life,” I half whisper. And it was. The aerial tour of my hometown, the wine tasting, and grape stomping. The private, candlelit dinner and making love for the first time after...

He healed me. From the trauma of what happened at The Barn, from my messed-up childhood and the subsequent walls I’d built to protect my heart. He made me whole again and showed me what it was like to love and be loved, even if I was too blind to see that’s how he felt about me. Too blind to realize he’d never do the things I thought him capable of.

His smile deepens and the corners of his eyes crinkle as candlelight dances across his face. I push those thoughts away, the ones soaked in regret and teeming with guilt, and slide my hand across the table. He takes it, cupping his large hand around my dainty fingers, his thumb rubbing lazily over my knuckles. His warm skin and electric touch bring me back to the present, to the beautiful man sitting in front of me and the love he has for his family. Chloe and I are his family now, and there’s no doubt in my mind that he’ll always be there for us. He’ll never abandon us like I once believed he did. I was so wrong about him, about everything. I’ll never make that mistake again.

“May I start you all off with a glass of wine?” The waitress startles me and I reluctantly pull my gaze from Jacob. She smiles at me sweetly, pen at the ready to scribble down our order. I order a glass of white while Jacob chooses a pale ale from their brewery. She leaves us a loaf of complimentary bread with dipping oil while we wait on our entrees.

“Mmm, I forgot how good this stuff is,” I moan, tearing off another piece of bread while chewing on the morsel I just popped into my mouth. The combination of savory herbs, olive oil, and bread still warm from the oven assaults my taste buds and my eyes flutter closed, pure ecstasy bursting on my tongue. Jacob chuckles at my enthusiasm. I’m making a fool of myself, but aside from a few dates I’ve been on to upscale restaurants, I rarely indulge in fancy meals like this. It’s a luxury I can’t really afford, so I’m getting a little carried away with the decadent appetizer and fine wines. I wash down my indulgence with a generous sip of Moscato, a much more expensive variety than what I get at the grocery store every other week on payday.

“How is your wine?” Jacob asks before bringing his own glass to his lips and sipping the golden liquid, a small trace of foam clinging to his upper lip when he pulls it away.

“It’s delicious,” I commend, my eyes following the motion of his tongue as it darts out to remove the foam. He watches me watching him and his eyes darken. I clear my throat and shift in my seat, remembering how his tongue felt on my body. My cheeks flush and the corners of his mouth turn up in a slow, sexy smile.

“Do you have any idea how hard it is for me not to drag you out of here, haul ass back to my room, and throw you on my bed when you look at me like that?”

My breath hitches, my eyes widening at his brazen proclamation. “Jacob,” I breathe, wanting to hear everything he’s thinking, every sordid detail about what he wants to do once we leave this place. But I can’t ask him. Not here. Because he’ll tell me. In front of all these people, he’ll lower his voice and lean in close, the spicy, masculine scent of his body wash filling my nose, and say things to make me blush and squirm and squeeze my thighs together to ease the ache swelling between them.

“Abby,” he offers with a sly smile, an almost taunting air about him. It’s a warning. And a promise. If I don’t change the subject, and quick, he’s gonna say something that will embarrass me and make me want to pounce on him right here and now.

“So,” I begin, bringing my wine to my lips and taking a slow draw from the glass. I’m buying time, trying to find a safe subject to discuss that won’t leave us both heated and yearning for each other’s touch. I wrack my brain searching for something that will fill the time until our food arrives. “Tell me about your work,” I request finally.

His smile falls, his lips flattening into a stiff line as he settles back in his seat, clearly disappointed that I’m unwilling to play along. After taking a long pull from his beer, he gives me the rundown on the engineering firm he works for and the projects to which he’s currently assigned. I ask him about his coworkers, attuned to any mention of female colleagues in whom he may have more than a professional interest. Fortunately, it sounds like he works mostly with guys and a middle-aged secretary who vaguely resembles Dolores Umbridge. He’s secretly terrified of her, he admits, even though she bakes cookies for him and his coworkers and knits little hats for newborns in the NICU at the local hospital.

His boss had participated in the same internship that Jacob did many years before, and practically hired him on the spot. “He said, ‘Anybody that can make it through that hell has earned their spot in this company.’”

I force a smile, cringing internally at the thought of the opportunity that took him thousands of miles away from me. That trip was the catalyst to our downfall.

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