Chapter 14
Ever
“I noticed Dmitri didn’t sleep in his room this week,” Trevor says, his tone filled with mirth as he removes the paper cup from the carrier of coffees he brought for Asa and me and stirs cream into his cup.
I have said little to my friend about the time I’ve been spending with Dmitri, but he’s not stupid.
Hell, at this point, the entire town knows.
Thank goodness my parents are on a month-long tour of Southeast Asia, or my mother would be demanding I bring Dmitri over for dinner so they could tell him what a “catch” I am.
I look in the mirror hanging on the wall above our display of honey-scented candles and skincare items. The silver hammered frame engraved with flowers and bees in flight reflects the overhead lights.
I straighten the collar of my pale blue polo.
The shirt I may have chosen to wear because Dmitri mentioned he loved how blue my eyes were when I put on a navy sweatshirt last night as we sat on my patio sipping wine under the fairy lights he helped me hang from my pergola.
“We decided it was easier for him to just stay at my place.”
After spending a week learning every inch of his body, discovering that circling my tongue around his nipple makes him gasp.
The little groan that rumbles from the back of his throat when I dig my fingers into his ass.
The way the cords in his throat strain before the pinch of his sinking teeth into my shoulder as heat from his cum fills the condom when he comes inside me.
And a hundred other little things. I still can’t get enough.
Yesterday, we spent the day together lounging lazily in my bed—something I can’t remember every doing or wanting to do with anyone else—only leaving when we were both famished after hours of playing with each other.
My cock, which should be down for the count for the next two days for all the action it’s been getting, plumps at the memory.
It was the best Sunday I’ve had in recent, and not so recent, history, but it was more than the sex, which is rock-my-world, tectonic-shift phenomenal.
With every interaction, there’s a level of intimacy I have not experienced with a partner before.
Trevor interrupts my thoughts with a derisive snort, sputtering coffee onto the glass case.
“U-huh.” He grabs a napkin from the carrier and wipes up the mocha-colored droplets, leaving streaks along the glass.
“Because the five-minute walk from your place to the inn is so treacherous.” My friend picks up a spatula from a shipment that just came in.
Bright yellow bees embed the black handle, giving it a fun vibe. “You think Jo would like this?”
“I think our Ever’s in love.” Wearing a pink chenille sweater that’s at least a size, maybe two, too big for her, over a sunflower yellow Honey Spot tee, Asa runs the pads of her fingertips over the spatula like she hasn’t just dropped a bomb.
Trevor hands it to her while he gets entirely too much pleasure from watching me choke on nothing but air.
Unaffected by my coughing and wheezing, Asa grips the handle of the spatula. Nodding, she hands it back to Trevor. “It has a nice grip and is smooth against the skin.”
I narrow my eyes at my employee who just blinks her Kewpie doll eyes at me, and answer my friend.
“It’s a seven-minute walk, and we’ve had dinner plans together every night.
” Then we usually end up working on my compositions.
Some I’ve written over the years, others newer, as Dmitri bounces ideas off me about original music for his quartet.
“There’s no need for him to make the walk back to the inn so late at night.
” I shrug a shoulder. “It’s easier for him to stay. ”
I don’t mention the sense of possessiveness at seeing him in my old Temple University sweatshirt when we walked back to the inn Saturday afternoon so he could get a change of clothes.
Nor do I say anything about how much I like him helping with the hives and hearing about the number of violin students reaching out to him as word gets out he’s taking students while he’s in town.
And I keep quiet about the fact that I fantasize about more days, more nights, more weeks, more months, more years with him wearing my clothes.
Or how I can’t bring myself to ask Dmitri when he’s leaving because there’s a part of me that knows when he does, he’ll take a piece of me with him.
I know how laughable it sounds. It’s like we’ve both decided by some unspoken agreement that talking about his departure or anything outside of this reality would somehow break the bubble we’ve been living in.
“It’s good of you to take such care. You can’t be too careful.
What, with Mabel lurking around, you never know when she might try to snag a tourist.” My so-called friend’s laughter floats through the store, melding with the soft sounds of Telemann’s Viola Concerto in G major playing over the sound system.
His gaze meets mine, and he sobers. With enough sincerity to make my neck itch, he says, “You know it’s okay to admit that you like him? ”
I rub the back of my neck, which feels hot to the touch, but it does nothing to ease the prickly feeling. “Of course I like him. What’s not to like?”
“But…” Trevor draws out the word into at least four syllables, his inflection rising at the end.
“But he won’t be here much longer,” Asa answers for me as she rings up the spatula.
She’s not wrong. Why does it sound like something out of a romance novel? Something you read and think, there’s no way two people could fall for each other so quickly, and if they do, why would they let something like living in different cities interfere?
“I’m a fling.” I keep to myself how confused Dmitri is about what his next step is in his career, in his life, and how lost he feels right now, treasuring those whispered confessions and wanting to protect him at the same time.
“He’ll go back to Philadelphia or wherever, and I’ll be a fun story he tells his friends. ”
Even as I say the words, my throat constricts.
I cough to clear it, but the tightness remains.
My gaze goes to the clock again, counting the minutes until Dmitri arrives.
He had some after-school lessons at the Harmonic Circus today, and we planned on meeting here so we could grab dinner at Red’s then walk to the library together for my lecture on Building Your Garden for Bees.
“You know, his original reservation was for seven days. He’s been here nineteen.
And Jo said he asked if he could extend his stay for another two weeks.
” Trevor removes his credit card from his wallet and taps it on the card reader, then returns it to his wallet.
“And I heard Roy talking to Tom at Sparky’s yesterday that Dmitri agreed to take on three more students. ”
At hearing Dmitri has extended his stay for another two weeks, my throat relaxes and my heart beats wildly. Would he consider staying in Maplewood?
No. Even though I know Dmitri has scheduled students, believing a world-renowned violinist would stay in Maplewood is as elusive as our lovable cryptid, Mabel. Plus, there’s the whole audition in London thing.
“He doesn’t have anything pressing right now, and he enjoys working with kids.” I shrug. “So, I’m not surprised.”
“It doesn’t sound like someone who’s thinking about leaving.” Asa hands the bag to Trevor, the implication hanging, with no need to say anything more.
With a low chuckle, Trevor takes the bag. “I feel bad taking his money when he’s not even using the room.”
My pounding heart flutters and skips. I press the heel of my palm against my chest, but the flutters continue. I should probably make an appointment to get it checked out.
The door of the store swings open and Dmitri strides in, eyes alight with the smile that graces his gorgeous face. “Hey.”
“Hey,” I say back because it’s all I can think of with my brain short-circuiting at the sight of him in dark denim and a pink button-down under a heather gray sweater vest. How he can make a sweater vest look sexy is beyond me, but I’m totally here for it.
The sleeves of his shirt are rolled up to the middle of his forearms, showing off his smooth skin.
Skin, I’ve tasted and savored for days, but it’s still not enough.
He wraps an arm around my waist, tugging me in for a sweet kiss.
I’m sure the kiss would have been far less sweet were it not for our audience, and a part of me wants to kick my friend and employee out so I can devour Dmitri.
But I refrain because, this, Dmitri meeting me at the shop, the kiss, his being a part of my life, feels so natural, so domestic, like we’ve done this for years, not days.
He pulls away, and a pang of longing that trembles so hard, I can barely catch my breath replaces the flutter in my chest.
“God, it’s good to see you,” he whispers, then greets Trevor and Asa. The desperation of his words, like we haven’t seen each other in years, not mere hours, mirrors my own frantic feelings.
His faint scent of woodsy spice and resin floats around us.
I inhale deeply, as if doing so will imprint the aroma on my olfactory senses, so I’ll have it when he leaves.
Yes, I am forty-one years old and I’m acting like this is the first time I’ve had a crush.
Even admitting to having a crush at this age seems ridiculous.
I might as well be scribbling Mr. Ever Fairchild on my notebook. But this is what the man does to me.
“Jo said you extended your stay again.” Trevor holds his cup in front of his mouth like there’s any way it could hide his annoying smile.
I stiffen because I don’t want Dmitri to feel like he’s being called out. Or that I think he should stay—even though the thought of him being a part of my daily life ignites something deep inside of me. I narrow my eyes at my friend in warning to keep his mouth shut, but he doesn’t heed it.
“Maplewood must have gotten its hooks in you,” he continues.
Apparently, Trevor has taken up the role of embarrassing me while my parents are out of town. I consider erasing the space between us, just to be within kicking distance of his shins, so he’ll shut up. But the smooth roll of Dmitri’s chuckle as he threads his fingers with mine settles me.
“It’s been a nice reprieve. And I keep hearing about the music festival next month…” He tosses a glance my way and for the first time, I sense he’s just as unsure about what this is as I am.
I give his hand a squeeze and trace my thumb back and forth over his knuckles. His expression softens in what could be gratitude or relief. I’m not sure which, but I like the warmth that exudes from my middle at being the one to soothe him.
“Although I’m going to have to change my reservation again,” he says to Trevor.
The warm glow I was basking in shudders, turning frigid.
As if he senses the change, Dmitri slips his arm through mine and presses his chest into my biceps.
“I received confirmation on the audition dates for the London Symphony.”
“Concertmaster,” I say, then because Trevor and Asa won’t know what that means, I explain, “That’s the principal chair. The leader of the entire orchestra, second only to the conductor.”
Dmitri nods with the surety of one who knows he’s qualified for the position.
“Holy shit! That’s incredible.” Trevor sets his coffee down and strides toward us, hand extended toward Dmitri.
I unwind Dmitri’s arm and step aside so he can accept the congratulations he deserves.
Excitement for this man who deserves to have all the best in the world blooms, even as a tear rips from my heart to the pit of my stomach, flaying me wide open, because not only will Dmitri definitely leave Maplewood, he’ll be an ocean away.
Trevor pats Dmitri on the shoulder and Asa jumps off her stool and rounds the counter to congratulate him. His laugh is free, and when he focuses those shining eyes on me, I may as well be a puddle.
“You should come with me.” His expression is open, hopeful, and I want to do everything in my power to keep that look on his handsome face.
Asa and Trevor go quiet. Both disappear into the background, and the only sound I can hear is the pulse of my heartbeat in my ears. “To London?”
“For the auditions. I’ll be there about five, maybe six days.” Gaze to the ceiling, he scratches his cheek. “I’m not sure. I still have to make my travel arrangements. But I’ll only be there for the audition and callback should I make it that far, so not too long. Have you ever been?”
My mouth goes dry and I lick my lips. What is he asking? “Uh, yeah. Trevor and I backpacked across Europe with some other friends the summer after college.”
He takes my hand in both of his. “We could visit wherever you want, and I could take you to this little place I try to visit anytime I’m in London. They have the best cheesecake. We won’t have a lot of time, but it could be fun.”
“Um…” I look at Trevor and Asa. Trevor’s mouth hangs open, much like my own, while Asa nods almost imperceptibly, like she expected this. “I assume you’d have to leave soon?”
Dmitri pulls out his phone and scrolls to his calendar app. “Auditions are the first week in May, but I’d like to get there at least two days before so I can adjust to the time difference a little.”
“So you’d want to leave next week?” My mind races through my schedule. Nothing I can’t easily reschedule. But… “The store. I can’t—”
“You can. I’ll be fine.” Asa scoots behind the counter, her expression one of boredom. “You and I both know I run this place.”
True. But… My gaze lands on Dmitri and my insides melt.
Bottom lip tucked between his teeth, his thumb taps against his thigh as his eyes dart back and forth between mine.
Suddenly, it doesn’t matter that we’ve only known each other for two weeks, or that he will eventually leave Maplewood.
The only thing that matters is spending as much time as possible with him.
“Okay.”
He releases his lip and his thumb stills. His grin spreads. “Okay?”
“Yeah. We’ll go to London, and you’ll nail this audition.” I ignore the pang in my chest. I’ll have it looked at after we get back.