Page 86 of Gone With the Wine

She tilts her head, and her focus on me and open expression make me feel like I matter. “Really?”

I shrug. I shouldn’t have said that. I tried to make it sound flippant. I don’t want to talk about my failed marriage

“Well.” Bianca stands, takes two steps over to me, and sits on my lap. She slides her fingers around the back of my neck, her face inches away from mine. Her skin is so pure, the texture of her lips so inviting, her shaggy hair a messy temptation. I close one hand around her waist and rest the other on her smooth thigh. “I have thoughts.”

“Oh yeah?” I glide my hand up, up, under the hem of my shirt.

“Yeah. I think you’re hot.”

My lips quirk. “Go on.”

“That’s it.” She smirks.

“That’s only one thought.”

“I’m kidding. I have lots of thoughts.” She traces her fingertips over my bottom lip. “You’re hot. You don’t say a lot, but what you say is worth listening to.” Now her fingers play with my hair. “You work hard, you’re determined. I think you’re hard on yourself—harder than you need to be, and I think that right here…” She presses a hand to my chest. “Your heart is big. You just protect it. You took in a dog. You care about the people who work for you.” She pauses. “I know that night at the fair you didn’t park near me. You just wanted to make sure I got to my car safely.”

Busted.

She tips her head and closes the distance between us to kiss me. Her mouth moves on mine softly.

Her words sink into my consciousness while I kiss her back, drinking in her sweetness. I feel like I don’t deserve those words, like I’ve screwed up so much and I’m probably going to screw up more. In spite of that, I love what she said…what she thinks about me. It makes me feel like maybe I’m not a total loser.

“Do you miss hockey?” she asks.

“Yeah.” I stroke her shoulder. “I thought about things I could do to stay involved with the sport. But I’m not a coach. I’m not a talker. Had to figure out something else.”

“You couldn’t get much farther away from hockey than buying a winery in Napa.”

“I know.”

“Is that why you did it?”

“Nah. I was interested in making wine, that’s all.”

“Tell me what you loved about hockey.”

“Ah. Everything. I love skating. I love puck handling. Shooting. I love competing and winning.” Wistfulness tightens my chest for a moment. I do miss all that. With my marriage imploding soon after retiring, I really haven’t acknowledged how much I miss it.

“I watched you on YouTube. You’re pretty famous.”

I’m a little startled, but I shrug. “I guess.”

“So modest. From what I saw online, you’d have every right to be full of yourself. You’re really good. Not that I know anything about hockey, but the guys talking about it in those videos seemed impressed with you.”

I laugh. I’m surprisingly moved by her praise. I was a good player; I knew that. But hearing her say it feels important. “Thanks.” I kiss her shoulder. “I also miss the guys.” I pause, my throat squeezing briefly thinking about Stephanie with Austin. “We were all so close. They were like my family.” Before one of my family betrayed me with my wife.

She studies my face and I guess she can see how wound up I am. “Do you keep in touch?”

I taste acid at the back of my throat and I swallow. “With a couple of them, yeah. My buddies. They came here and visited me right after I moved here, to check out the place.”

“You should invite them back.”

“The hockey season is just getting started. They probably don’t have time.”

“You could check with them. It’s good to keep people we care about in our lives.”

“Did you do that when you left here?”

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