Chapter Twelve
Ridley
" L ucy told me that I'm supposed to tell you that we need to release Ambrosia Kisses," Oliver says, staring at me from across my office.
I grunt in response, turning to resume pacing.
"Apparently, Paisley asked her to help convince you."
"The wine isn't for the public."
"Why not?"
"It's special," I mutter. It's the only explanation I feel like giving. No one else needs to know why I poured my soul into trying to get it just right. That's for me and Paisley to know.
Oliver doesn't say anything for a long moment as he watches me pace. "Then release it as a special addition to the line," he suggests. "Mark it up, sell limited quantities."
"I don't want to sell it at all."
"Why the fuck not? That's what we do around here, brother. We sell fucking wine."
"Because it's her," I growl, turning to glare at him. "I made it for her. To taste like her."
"You mean her…?" His brow rises.
"Jesus Christ. No. What the fuck?"
"Thank God," he breathes. "Because this conversation was about to get awkward as fuck if that's what you meant."
"Her mouth, you idiot." I shake my head. How are we even related? "Her kisses taste like ambrosia."
"You…" He chuckles. "You know what? I'm not even going to argue with you. Do whatever you want with the wine, man. Just, for the love of God, do not try to craft one that tastes like any other part of her body. Bastian will murder us all if you try that."
I flip him off before turning to resume my pacing. How long can an interview possibly take? It's been almost two hours already. I think I'm more nervous than she was when she left this morning.
It's like she's just…content with whatever happens. Whether she gets the job or not doesn't matter much to her right now.
"Do you think dreams change?" I ask Oliver.
"What?"
"Can a person's dreams change?"
"Yeah. Of course they do."
"Overnight?"
"Mine did."
I arch a brow at him, silently asking for an explanation.
"You think I had this whole future mapped out before I met Lucy?
" he asks me, and then immediately shakes his head.
"Hell no. That vision took shape the moment I met her.
Before her, all I wanted was to help out around here, make something of what Dad was leaving us.
I wasn't thinking about a wife and kids. The dream changed when I met her."
"Makes sense, I guess," I mutter.
"Your dreams didn't change when you met Paisley?"
"They did," I say softly. "The whole fucking world reordered itself around her. I just…" I mutter a curse. "I'm just worried about her dreams."
"Why?"
"Because they're changing."
"They're supposed to change, brother," Oliver says, his voice a soft rumble.
"You think she worked so fucking hard to get through law school because she wants to be some badass lawyer?
Hell no. She poured herself into it because it's what she had left.
You were gone. She lost her brother. Law school kept her putting one foot in front of the other.
It gave her something to channel her pain into, something that didn't hurt.
She needed the structure and discipline and plan, otherwise, I don't think she would have gotten up in the mornings. "
"You never told me that she lost him."
"I wanted to," he admits after a moment. "I considered it a thousand times when shit was really bad, but…"
"You didn't think I'd care."
"No, I didn't think you'd survive if I told you.
She wasn't the only one just trying to make it through the day, man.
You were, too. I didn't know why you left, but I knew it broke you, too.
You tried to hide it, but everyone could see it.
You didn't even want to come home, and when you did, it's like you couldn't wait to leave again.
You never smiled. You never laughed. You just…
existed. I didn't want to lay that at your feet when I knew how you'd take it. "
"It fucking killed me," I rasp. "When she told me, I mean."
"Yeah, I figured it would." He sighs. "But honestly, man? Even if you had been here, losing him would have broken her just the same. Pierce was her hero. Nothing you said or did would have made it hurt any less. Shit like that isn't supposed to hurt less."
"Yeah." I swallow hard. "I still wish I'd been here."
"I know, but you were just trying to survive, too." He sighs again. "I wish we'd known the whole story. Maybe we could have brought you two back together a long goddamn time ago had we known."
"It's not your fault." I turn to glance at him over my shoulder. "And it doesn't matter now. We can't undo the past, so we're not dwelling on it anymore. We're moving forward."
It'll always sting a little bit. I'll probably always feel guilty as hell.
But maybe that's what I need to feel. It's a reminder of what I stand to lose if I ever fuck up with her.
It's a glimpse of what the future looks like without her.
I lived it once. I know how much that shit burns.
And I know damn well that I'll do whatever it takes to never end up back there again, living in the dark because her sunshine is missing from my life.
"You want to know what I've learned from loving Lucy?" he asks after a moment.
"What's that?"
"Just love her, man. If you aren't sure how, ask her.
Let her guide you. But hold on tight because that's what she needs from you.
Regardless of how she changes or how her dreams do or what she goes through, all she'll ever need is for you to love her through it.
She's the softest part of you, and you'll want to put yourself in front of everything to protect her because the thought of anything happening to her will be the most terrifying thing you've ever faced, but sometimes, the best thing you can do for her is just let her live.
Don't be the thing that makes life harder for her," he murmurs. "You're her safety."
"I can do that." Hell, loving her is the easy part.
It's as simple as breathing. But he's right.
The thought of anything happening to her is terrifying.
And I guess that's the part I'm struggling with right now—worry that she's letting go of something she really wants and will end up hurt in the end.
But…Paisley has always known her own mind. She's always been strong.
If her dreams have changed, maybe I need to sit back and let them.
I need to do what he said and love her through it.
Maybe one day, they'll change again. She'll decide she wants the things she wanted before, and I'll move heaven and earth to make sure she gets them.
Or maybe she won't decide that. Maybe what she wants right now is leading her precisely where she's always been meant to go.
Either way, that's her decision to make.
All I need to do is love her through it.
I can do that. Fuck yeah, I can do that.
"Thanks, man," I murmur to Oliver. "You're smart as hell, sometimes, you know that?"
"Oh, I know." He grins at me. "One of us had to get the brains, and since it wasn't you…"
I bark laughter, lifting my middle finger in the air. "Fuck you very much, you asshole. I've got brains."
He chuckles, hauling himself out of his chair. "I've got shit to do today."
"Fucking your wife doesn't count, Oliver."
"Mind your business."
I smirk at him as he strides for the door, flipping me off.
Once it clicks closed behind him, I consider pacing again and then decide I should probably try to do a little work.
Bastian might actually have a stroke if someone doesn't do something around here this week, and not a whole helluva lot has gotten done aside from Jax fixing the harvester.
I settle behind my desk, pulling up sales reports. And then my mind drifts to Ambrosia Kisses. The wine was never meant to be part of our line. It's too personal. Too much me, too much Paisley. But maybe Paisley, Oliver, and Lucy are right, and it should be part of the line.
I pick up my desk phone, dialing Bastian.
Unlike usual, it takes several rings before he answers.
"What?" he growls.
What the fuck? Is he panting?
"Why do you sound out of breath?"
I hear a soft giggle in the background, and my question answers itself. Jesus Christ. He is fucking Constance!
"Never mind," I mutter. "Don't answer that."
"Didn't plan on it. What do you want?"
"What are your thoughts on adding an exclusive wine to our tours?"
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, a wine that's available exclusively as part of our date-night tours. Unless you book one of those tours, you're shit outta luck."
"What wine?"
"Ambrosia Kisses."
"Why date-night only?" he asks.
"You wouldn't understand."
Constance murmurs something in the background, and I change my mind. Maybe he would.
"Because it's her," I say softly. "Kissing her reminds me of ambrosia, so I poured everything I felt for her into trying to bottle that taste. It should go to people who can appreciate that."
"Shit," Bastian murmurs. "Is that why you were so bent out of shape about it?"
"I wasn't bent out of shape."
"You threatened to break fingers if a single cask was damaged, Ridley."
Okay, maybe I was a little bent out of shape about it. But only a little.
"Do you want to do it or not?"
"Let's do it."
"I'll get Haven and Gabe on it." I pause. "Have fun with…whatever you're doing on top of your desk."
"Man, fuck you," he mutters, chuckling.
I hang up on him, smiling to myself. Maybe Bastian is human, after all. He actually sounds…happy. Fucking weird.
My smile drops when I see Paisley pulling into the parking lot downstairs. My heart leaps into my damn throat as I hop to my feet to go meet her.
By the time I make it down in the elevator, she's already in the lobby. She looks too damn beautiful in a pencil skirt and simple blouse with her hair pulled up in a demure bun. I can't get a read on her expression as she crosses toward me, her heels clicking across the tile floor.
"Hey," I murmur, pulling her into my arms. "How did it go?"
"It was fine."
"Fine?" That doesn't sound promising. Shit. Maybe I shouldn't have asked. But before I can worry about it too much, a bright smile breaks across her face, lighting her up.
"They offered me the job!" she cries, flinging her arms around my neck.
I whoop, spinning her around in a circle. "Fuck," I whisper, crashing my mouth against hers. "I'm so proud of you, baby."
"Me too," she whispers against my lips.
"Are you taking it?"
"Yes." She bites her lip. "For now."
"For now?"
"We'll see how it goes," she says, running her fingers through my hair. "I kind of think I'll probably be pretty busy soon. I may have to rethink things."
"Why?" My brows furrow. "Dimples, if you want the job, I'll do whatever it takes to make sure nothing stands in your way."
"Kids might," she whispers.
I blink at her.
"I'm just saying."
"Is this your way of telling me that you want my babies?"
"I kinda thought I made that clear the last ninety times I let you inside me without a condom. But if you need me to make it clearer…" Her tits press against my chest as she leans up on her tiptoes, pressing her lips to my ear. "I want your babies, Ridley Goodson."
"Jesus." My dick presses against my zipper so fast it should be criminal. And I snatch her up so fast that one shoe falls from her foot.
She squeals with laughter as I storm for the elevator, not even stopping long enough to pick it up.
She wants my babies? Done. Right fucking now.
" W e're adding Ambrosia Kisses to our line," I murmur a long time later, tracing lazy patterns on her back as we cuddle on the sofa in the corner of my office.
"Really?" She cranes her head back to look at me.
"Yeah, really. It'll be available in the tasting room at the winery. Date-night tours only."
"I love that," she whispers.
"Yeah?"
She nods. "It's perfect."
"I thought so too." I dip my head to steal a kiss. "Maybe your wine will inspire them like you inspired me."
"Maybe." She grins, snuggling up against me again. "God, I'm so happy, Ridley."
"Yeah?" I smile down at her. "Because of the wine?"
"Because of you. Because of this. I have your ring on my finger. I have a job here, so we don't have to leave. Everything feels…perfect. It feels so damn perfect." She blinks watery eyes. "Pierce would love this for me."
"Yeah, he would," I murmur, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. "He'd be so fucking proud of you, Dimples."
"I know."
"I'm proud of you, too. No matter how your dreams change or what you decide to do next, I'm fucking proud of you."
Her sweet smile is everything. It's sunshine and sin. And it's…fucking perfect.
"God," I groan, lifting her up to kiss it from her lips. Her legs spread around my hips, her hands delving into my hair. I groan again, my cock jerking to life between us.
She feels it and whimpers, shifting around until she's hovering right over the tip. Her eyes meet mine, full of so much love, it steals my breath.
"I love you," she whispers as she sinks down, knocking my world out of orbit all over again.
"Christ, I love you too," I growl, my hands sinking into her hips.
We rock together, getting lost in one another. My hands are all over her, but hers aren't still either. I feel them searing along my skin, setting little fires everywhere she touches me as I tumble her over backward, taking control.
My name echoes around the office as my hips crash into hers, driving me deep and then deeper. We come together again and again, spiraling higher with every moment, every touch. And when we fall, we do it together, our cries of ecstasy melding into one somewhere around the ceiling.
It's loud and messy, and it's us.
"I love you," I whisper through the fog of bliss, clinging to her sweaty body. "So fucking much, Dimples."
"I love you, too, Ridley."
She could say it for a lifetime, and I'd still want to hear it again. Those words are three years of hope, whispered into existence, and three years of pain, soothed into nothing all at once. They're my dreams, every goddam one of them, breathed to life by her lips.
They're everything.