30
Puppy love
[Dolores]
We remain kissing in the cold field, our mouths keeping us warm until a brick of body thuds into the side of us. Garrett stumbles, and my legs tangle with his, and in the bulking winter clothing, we go down to the hard, snow-covered ground.
“Oof,” he says, landing in such a way so he takes most of my weight. Wally dances around us, yipping and yelping, and a déjà vu happens although this time it isn’t sand.
“Are you okay?” I stare down at Garrett under me as he rolls his eyes and turns his head.
“I just need a minute,” he grunts, and I slip off him.
“Wally,” I ground out. “You stupid, bad dog,” I say in that voice he loves, wagging his tail harder as he races around us. Garrett twists his head as he chuckles at his pet.
“I think he’s trying to tell us something, like get out of the cold, dumbasses.”
I huff in response and stand slowly, holding out my hands for Garrett so I can pull him up. He pushes off the ground with one hand, the other placed in mine. Swiping at his backside, he knocks the snow off his jeans.
“I’m wet,” he states.
“I think that’s my line.”
He stills for the briefest of seconds and then his cold hands cup my face, and he’s kissing me again. I don’t mind the sting of his cool fingers as his mouth is warm and tender. He’s swallowing my tease, and I want to be closer to him, connect like he said. But sex isn’t our only connection. Garrett has this crazy idea about a vineyard—here—at Magnolia’s, and he wants me to be a part of it. For a moment, I can see it. Us together. And my heart races with the thrill of it.
I pull back and slip my arm around his waist. “Let’s go inside.”
He nods and wraps an arm over my shoulders.
We still aren’t close enough. I accused Garrett of wanting to distract me with sex, but right now, I want the distraction. I want to believe it’s all real. What he says. What he wants.
I love you.
My heart cartwheels in my chest. For the past forty-seven years, I’ve rarely heard those words. Never heard them from a man unless he was using them to reel me into bed.
But this man? He wants more than just me in bed. He wants a freaking vineyard. And me.
We enter the back door and hang up our coats. Wally shakes himself before heading up the short number of steps to the first floor.
“Dolores?” Magnolia calls out.
“Magnolia,” I respond, my voice carrying. Who else is going to walk in her back door?
“Still got that man with you?”
“Still here, Magnolia,” I shout back as Garrett wraps his arms around me from behind and kisses under my ear.
“Take me upstairs,” he whispers, and I still.
“What? Here?”
He murmurs into my neck, “I need to be inside you.”
The words race through my body, instantly heating me. Reaching for his hand, I tug him forward, up the stairs and down the hall until I find Magnolia in the front room knitting. Wally lies at her feet. Her hands shake, but she still works the needles. Slowly.
“Hey, we fell in the snow, and I’m taking Garrett upstairs so we can change.”
“Uh-huh.” She nods, not looking up from her yarn work. She doesn’t believe me, but I don’t have time to argue. “Just remember those old beds make a lot of noise, and your room is above this one.” She peers through her magnifying glasses in the direction of Garrett.