Forever with Me
Page 41
“Don’t be difficult. What is it about this place, this water, that you love?”
I sigh and turn my gaze to the water, the islands, the birds, the boats.
“It centers me. I knew when I bought my condo that I had to be on the water, and I scrimped and saved until I could afford my place. There was nowhere else I wanted to be.” I take Dom’s hand and lead him down the pier toward the grass. “I love everything about the waterfront. The smell, the way the wind hits my face and filters through my hair. There’s nothing like watching a parasailer, or catching a glimpse of a sea lion in the water.”
Dom lifts the basket and the wine and I take my shoes and the wine glasses and follow him out into the wide grassy area, where we drop everything and sit facing each other.
“This is my home.” I shrug one shoulder and pluck a blade of grass out of the dirt.
“I get it,” he replies with a nod. “It’s where you fit.”
“Exactly.”
“That’s how the vineyard is for me,” he says, and squints as he gazes out at the water. “And Italy.”
“I would love to see Italy. Tell me about it.”
He grins, and then before I can react, he’s pulled me in his arms, and onto my back in the grass, covering me with his solid body.
“Close your eyes.”
“There are children nearby,” I reply dryly, making him laugh.
“Close your eyes,” he repeats. I wrinkle my nose at him and then do as I’m told, relaxing in the grass.
“I’m not even going to think about the bugs that could be crawling around in my hair right now,” I comment lightly.
“I’ll protect you,” he replies and suddenly, his fingertips are grazing along my cheekbone, and I melt. “Italy is unlike anywhere else. Tuscany, specifically, is the most beautiful place I’ve ever been.”
His fingers journey up my temple, along my forehead, and over my eyebrows, making me sigh in contentment. Dear sweet Jesus, the man is good with his hands.
“The villages are busy, bustling with people, but they’re the friendliest people you’ll ever meet.” His fingertip drifts down my nose. “And the colors are just spectacular. The hills are vibrantly green. The sky boldly blue, but when the sun is hanging just right, everything is gold.” The last few words are whispered as he traces my lips with the pad of his thumb. “Watching the sunlight bounce off the dew on my grapevines is as close to heaven as I’ll ever be. It smells…clean. New. Every day is new.”
Now he sinks his other hand in my hair, brushes tiny tendrils off my forehead and cheeks, sending sparks of awareness through me, yet I’m the most comfortable I’ve ever been.
His voice is soothing. His hands are calming. I can’t believe how gentle his touch is when I know how rough he can be.
I can’t get enough of him.
He leans in close and whispers in my ear, “I can’t wait to show it to you. Italy is going to love you.”
Before I can respond, he covers my lips with his, in a long, slow, sweet kiss, in that way he does that feels like it’s the first time he’s kissed me all over again. His fingertips continue to tickle my forehead, while his other hand drifts down my side, barely brushing over my breast, down to my hip, where he holds me as his lips brush back and forth over my own. He nibbles his way to the corner of my mouth, then licks along my bottom lip, tugs it with his teeth, and settles in to kiss me long and slow once more.
When he finally pulls back, I can’t open my eyes. My lids are heavy with desire and need, and his fingertips on my skin are making me nuts.
He kisses my cheek, then my nose, and whispers, “Open your eyes, cara.”
They flutter open and I’m staring up into the brightest blue eyes I’ve ever seen, surrounded by dark lashes, olive skin, and raven hair.
“How do you always kiss me like it’s the first time?” I ask breathlessly.
His eyes flicker down to my lips, then back to my eyes. Instead of answering, he offers me that heart-stopping smile, and moves in to kiss me all over again.
I grip onto his strong back and go along for the ride, enjoying his lips on mine, his body covering me, his manly scent flowing around me.
I’m in way over my head. And I don’t want to be saved.
Chapter Twelve
This week has flown by. The second Dominic and I returned to the vineyard, it was full speed ahead with Montgomery wedding plans.
“We’re heading out, Alecia, unless there’s something else you need,” Mark says, as he waves goodbye to his crew.
“I don’t need anything,” I assure him with a grin. My heels click on the hardwood dance floor as I approach him. “This is beautiful.”
His blue eyes take in the massive tent, floor, and stage and he gives me a satisfied nod. “We did good.”
“You did excellent,” I agree.
“We’ll hang the lights and set out tables tomorrow, and that’s about it.”
I can already picture the white twinkling lights strung throughout the tent in my head, the tables set up and decorated with beautiful flowers, smiling people dancing and laughing.
I can’t wait.
“Rehearsal dinner tomorrow night,” I remind him, as he turns to leave.
“Like I could forget that.” He shakes his head and laughs. “I hope you’re ready for the party about to ensue tomorrow night.”
I cock my brow and tilt my head in question.
I sigh and turn my gaze to the water, the islands, the birds, the boats.
“It centers me. I knew when I bought my condo that I had to be on the water, and I scrimped and saved until I could afford my place. There was nowhere else I wanted to be.” I take Dom’s hand and lead him down the pier toward the grass. “I love everything about the waterfront. The smell, the way the wind hits my face and filters through my hair. There’s nothing like watching a parasailer, or catching a glimpse of a sea lion in the water.”
Dom lifts the basket and the wine and I take my shoes and the wine glasses and follow him out into the wide grassy area, where we drop everything and sit facing each other.
“This is my home.” I shrug one shoulder and pluck a blade of grass out of the dirt.
“I get it,” he replies with a nod. “It’s where you fit.”
“Exactly.”
“That’s how the vineyard is for me,” he says, and squints as he gazes out at the water. “And Italy.”
“I would love to see Italy. Tell me about it.”
He grins, and then before I can react, he’s pulled me in his arms, and onto my back in the grass, covering me with his solid body.
“Close your eyes.”
“There are children nearby,” I reply dryly, making him laugh.
“Close your eyes,” he repeats. I wrinkle my nose at him and then do as I’m told, relaxing in the grass.
“I’m not even going to think about the bugs that could be crawling around in my hair right now,” I comment lightly.
“I’ll protect you,” he replies and suddenly, his fingertips are grazing along my cheekbone, and I melt. “Italy is unlike anywhere else. Tuscany, specifically, is the most beautiful place I’ve ever been.”
His fingers journey up my temple, along my forehead, and over my eyebrows, making me sigh in contentment. Dear sweet Jesus, the man is good with his hands.
“The villages are busy, bustling with people, but they’re the friendliest people you’ll ever meet.” His fingertip drifts down my nose. “And the colors are just spectacular. The hills are vibrantly green. The sky boldly blue, but when the sun is hanging just right, everything is gold.” The last few words are whispered as he traces my lips with the pad of his thumb. “Watching the sunlight bounce off the dew on my grapevines is as close to heaven as I’ll ever be. It smells…clean. New. Every day is new.”
Now he sinks his other hand in my hair, brushes tiny tendrils off my forehead and cheeks, sending sparks of awareness through me, yet I’m the most comfortable I’ve ever been.
His voice is soothing. His hands are calming. I can’t believe how gentle his touch is when I know how rough he can be.
I can’t get enough of him.
He leans in close and whispers in my ear, “I can’t wait to show it to you. Italy is going to love you.”
Before I can respond, he covers my lips with his, in a long, slow, sweet kiss, in that way he does that feels like it’s the first time he’s kissed me all over again. His fingertips continue to tickle my forehead, while his other hand drifts down my side, barely brushing over my breast, down to my hip, where he holds me as his lips brush back and forth over my own. He nibbles his way to the corner of my mouth, then licks along my bottom lip, tugs it with his teeth, and settles in to kiss me long and slow once more.
When he finally pulls back, I can’t open my eyes. My lids are heavy with desire and need, and his fingertips on my skin are making me nuts.
He kisses my cheek, then my nose, and whispers, “Open your eyes, cara.”
They flutter open and I’m staring up into the brightest blue eyes I’ve ever seen, surrounded by dark lashes, olive skin, and raven hair.
“How do you always kiss me like it’s the first time?” I ask breathlessly.
His eyes flicker down to my lips, then back to my eyes. Instead of answering, he offers me that heart-stopping smile, and moves in to kiss me all over again.
I grip onto his strong back and go along for the ride, enjoying his lips on mine, his body covering me, his manly scent flowing around me.
I’m in way over my head. And I don’t want to be saved.
Chapter Twelve
This week has flown by. The second Dominic and I returned to the vineyard, it was full speed ahead with Montgomery wedding plans.
“We’re heading out, Alecia, unless there’s something else you need,” Mark says, as he waves goodbye to his crew.
“I don’t need anything,” I assure him with a grin. My heels click on the hardwood dance floor as I approach him. “This is beautiful.”
His blue eyes take in the massive tent, floor, and stage and he gives me a satisfied nod. “We did good.”
“You did excellent,” I agree.
“We’ll hang the lights and set out tables tomorrow, and that’s about it.”
I can already picture the white twinkling lights strung throughout the tent in my head, the tables set up and decorated with beautiful flowers, smiling people dancing and laughing.
I can’t wait.
“Rehearsal dinner tomorrow night,” I remind him, as he turns to leave.
“Like I could forget that.” He shakes his head and laughs. “I hope you’re ready for the party about to ensue tomorrow night.”
I cock my brow and tilt my head in question.
