Two
Greyson
I coast into the ferry terminal just before nine o’clock, the engine’s purr subsiding as I maneuver into the last spot on the evening vessel bound for Victoria. With a satisfying click, I kill the engine and gather my belongings—keys, wallet, and the stack of medical journals that’s been taunting me from the passenger seat.
Stepping out into the brisk coastal air, I take a moment to stretch, rolling my shoulders to relieve the tension that’s nestled there after hours hunched over the steering wheel on my five-hour drive from Paradise. The ferry, a hulking mass of steel, will cut through the Strait of Georgia around multiple islands to deliver us to Vancouver Island. I make quick work of the distance between my car and the passenger entrance, eager for the solitude the ferry’s upper deck promises.
Inside, I navigate through clusters of families and tourists. Their excited energy is a world away from the serenity I crave, and I push forward until I find an empty row of seats tucked away near a window with a view that even in darkness could steal your breath if you let it.
I absolutely love British Columbia. Spring has arrived, bringing gentle rains that nourish the vibrant landscape, and the sun now lingers until nearly seven thirty in the evening. As summer approaches, we’ll be playing golf under golden skies that stretch well past ten p.m. It’s a place of breathtaking beauty, by far the most stunning spot in the world.
I claim my spot on the aisle, sinking into the padded seat with a sigh of relief. The medical journals land on my lap, and I’m just about to delve into an article on cutting-edge surgical techniques when the familiar ping of my phone beckons my attention.
Tarryn: We’ve received a formal invitation to the International Wine and Spirits Competition in London in November.
In a series of additional pings, my three brothers congratulate her and Dad. The two of them have now taken the family vineyard, Paradise Hill Family Estate Winery, international. We are a fourth-generation winery, founded by our great-grandfather, who established the vineyard during the Temperance Act to produce sacramental wine in the town named after our ancestor. Today, we proudly carry on the family legacy—though we’ve expanded our offerings—with eight generations of our family calling the beautiful town of Paradise and Black Bear Valley in central British Columbia, Canada, home.
My eyes skim over the details Tarryn sends, a spark of interest igniting within me at the thought of representing our family’s wine on such a prestigious stage. Thumbs hovering over the screen, I type my own congratulatory response, already envisioning a fun trip to London. But before I can press send, a voice, soft yet confident, pulls my attention away .
“Excuse me, is this seat taken?”
I glance up, and time seems to pause, or maybe it’s just my breath. A woman stands before me, her presence commanding. She’s undeniably beautiful, with an allure that’s not just her appearance but in the way she holds herself—a mix of grace and self-assuredness that’s impossible to ignore.
“Uh, no,” I manage to reply. “Please, have a seat.”
She offers a smile, one that hints at conversation I hadn’t planned for but am now entirely open to having. As she slides gracefully into the seat beside me, I pocket my phone, the unfinished message to Tarryn forgotten for the moment. Right now, something tells me this unexpected encounter might be worth putting everything else on hold.
The journal on my lap garners her attention almost immediately. “Are you attending the MedTalks in Victoria?” she asks.
“Yep, I am,” I respond with a nod, careful not to divulge my role as one of the speakers. It feels too much like bragging. “And you?”
“Yes. I’ll be there. It’s my first time attending one of these, and I’m very excited. It’s been ages since I’ve been to Victoria. I feel like I’m on a school trip or something…”
She’s charming and bubbly and disarmingly attractive, like a classic Hollywood starlet with her friendly demeanor and Marilyn Monroe-esque curves. There’s an ease to our conversation that surprises me, her flirtatious manner quite alluring. It’s been a long time since I’ve talked to someone without second-guessing their intentions, and it feels like a breath of fresh air.
We talk about everything and nothing during the hour-and-a-half sail, and before I know it, the intercom announces our impending arrival in Victoria.
“We should probably head down to the cars,” I suggest reluctantly.
“Sure thing,” she says .
I realize I haven’t formally introduced myself amidst the shuffle of disembarking passengers. So I extend my hand. “Greyson Paradise.”
“Greyson, nice to meet you.” My name rolls off her tongue for the first time as we make our way to the parking deck. “Trinity Blaine,” she offers with a wink.
We part with a wave, promising to look out for one another at the conference.
As I sit in my car, waiting for my turn to exit the ferry, thoughts of Trinity occupy my mind. Will I see her again? The possibility seems simultaneously hopeful and daunting. MedTalks draws a huge crowd, and Victoria is swarmed with attendees. Every hotel room is claimed. We should have exchanged numbers.
Pulling out my phone, I’m hit by a pang of guilt. I forgot to finish my message to Tarryn when Trinity joined me. As I open the family chat, it seems Tarryn has asked for help, but Beckett can’t make November, and Ryker will go only if no one else can attend. My oldest brother Kingston is virtually a hermit these days as he works on his own company, so he has also declined. Beckett and Ryker then moved on to jesting about me picking up a woman on the ferry since I haven’t responded. A wry smile tugs at my lips. They’re not entirely wrong.
Me: Sorry. I got caught up. Barely made the ferry. Congratulations, Tarryn and Dad. I can join you in London as long as I can swing the time off.
With one last glance at my phone, I pocket it and focus on the path ahead. This MedTalk I’m giving could be a game changer, and that thought tugs at something deeper. What if it is? What if the world does take notice, and the opportunities I’ve avoided for years finally catch up to me? Dad always says we have a duty to the vineyard, to the family, but I followed our mother into medicine. I’ve always enjoyed the vineyard, but I’ve found my purpose in the ED. As I stare out at the dark waves, the question lingers—can I keep both worlds afloat, or will I eventually have to choose?
The ferry’s ramp lowers with a mechanical groan, and as one of the last to get on the ferry, I’m also one of the last off. Once I’m finally free to drive into Victoria, the trip to the hotel is brisk, the city lights blurring past as I navigate the route. Pulling up to the Delta Hotel & Conference Center, I park and gather my belongings with an eagerness I can’t quite tame.
As I make my way to reception, there she is—Trinity, her hair catching the golden light of the lobby chandelier. She spots me too, and our eyes lock in a brief but charged acknowledgment before decorum demands we look away.
“Made it without getting lost, I see,” she jokes as I approach.
“Only because I was following your lead,” I reply.
Our conversation is cut short by the call of two front desk clerks, requesting our attention to complete the check-in process.
We both get our keys, and together, we step into the elevator. She pushes the seventh-floor button, which happens to be my floor too. I keep my eyes forward as the digital numbers climb steadily until they ding at our floor.
As we exit and walk down the corridor, Trinity turns to me casually. “Want to grab a drink in a little bit? Maybe downstairs in the lounge?” she asks.
“Sounds great,” I respond, “as long as you don’t mind if I fit in a late dinner?” My stomach reminds me it’s been hours since I’ve eaten, and the thought of good food paired with her company is more than appealing.
“Perfect. I could use a bite to eat. I have to follow up on some emails from my office. Would thirty minutes work?” She smiles.
“Thirty minutes. We can meet at the bar,” I confirm, and we part ways, the promise of the evening ahead making every step toward my room feel light .
Once inside my temporary sanctuary, I place my bag on the bed and pull out my phone, noticing a new message on the screen. It’s from Griffin Martin. A rush of excitement runs through me. Griffin’s been a steadfast friend since our med school days.
Griffin: Where are you? We’re all here at the hotel, downstairs at the bar. Get your ass down here.
I should be thrilled but, instead, feel a twinge of reluctance. I had conjured a quiet, intimate evening with Trinity, not a boisterous reunion. Yet how can I pass up the chance to reconnect with friends I rarely get to see?
Me: Give me a few. I just checked in. I’ll be right there.
Taking a moment to freshen up, I examine my reflection in the mirror, straighten my shirt, and run a hand through my hair. With that, I pocket my phone and head out the door. This will give me a few minutes to catch up with old friends before I meet Trinity for dinner—and before whatever might unfold with her after that.
Downstairs, I stride into the bustling hotel bar, the clink of glasses and laughter already filling my ears. Scanning the crowd, my eyes land on a familiar group huddled around a high-top table, their heads thrown back in mirth.
“Greyson!” A voice booms, and Griffin Martin emerges from the throng, his arms open wide. We embrace like brothers.
“Man, it’s been too long,” I say, grinning at the faces of our med school pack. Roman Quinlan is here, too. He lifts a half-full beer.
“Too long indeed,” Griffin agrees, clapping me on the shoulder. “Still dividing your time between the ED and the vineyard?”
I nod. “I try to help out the family on my days off. What about you?”
“Thankfully my oldest brother and youngest brother have the family business under control.”
Griffin’s family own Canada’s largest communications company—newspapers, television stations, radio stations, and the largest mobile phone provider.
“Speaking of which, I ran into your brother Kingston a few weeks ago, and he seems busy with his medical technology company. How are Beckett and Ryker?” Griffin asks with an arched brow.
“Stuck back in Paradise,” I reply with a sigh, knowing full well our respective siblings would love nothing more than to be here with us, though likely just to hang out and cause problems. “And yeah, Kingston’s business is really doing great.”
I look over Griffin’s shoulder and spot his older brother, Davis, a pediatric cardiologist. I wave to him. Conversation flows, filled with catching up and inside jokes. Yet even so, part of me is clock-watching, anticipating Trinity’s arrival.
Just when the teasing about old flames reaches its peak, I turn to see her approaching. She’s a vision—professional yet undeniably sexy, her jeans and sweater hugging her curves and commanding the attention of every eye in the room. Her pink lip gloss makes me want to kiss it off right this instant.
“Guys,” I interrupt, and my voice fills with a pride I didn’t see coming, “this is Trinity Blaine.” I turn toward her. “Trinity, meet some of the best damn doctors—and troublemakers—I know.” I gesture to introduce each friend in turn, their smiles welcoming.
“So nice to meet you,” she says.
“Should we grab that dinner?” I suggest, eager to peel away from the group and focus solely on her.
“Absolutely,” Trinity replies.
After I agree to meet my friends in the morning, Trinity and I make our way to an open table on the other side of the bar. We sit across from each other, studying our menus as a candle flickers between us, casting soft shadows on Trinity’s face. I make a quick decision about food, something not too heavy but that will satisfy the beast in my stomach.
That decided, I set the menu aside. “I never asked earlier, but where do you work?” I say to Trinity.
“North Vancouver General,” she replies as she eyes the server heading our way.
“Must be a busy place.”
“Never a dull moment,” Trinity replies with a laugh, tucking a strand of golden hair behind her ear. “I love it, though. Keeps me on my toes. And there’s something about working with people in their most vulnerable moments. It makes you appreciate life in a way nothing else can.” She pauses as the server approaches and takes our order.
When he scurries off, her smile softens. “What about you? Where do you practice your medical wizardry?”
“Paradise General,” I reply. “Emergency medicine. It’s chaotic, but there’s nothing like it. Every second counts, and the stakes couldn’t be higher. I’ve seen things most people only read about, and every day feels like it matters.
“Emergency, wow. You must thrive under pressure.”
“Something like that,” I admit.
“Tell me about it,” she says, and from there the conversation ebbs and flows from playful banter to deeper revelations. I told her something I’ve never admitted to anyone. I hate working nights, though sometimes my job requires it. Something about her just draws out honesty, and time dissolves in her presence.
The server comes and goes, bringing food and drinks, and as we finish our meal, I lean forward, resting my elbows on the table, not wanting the night to end, though we’re quickly moving into early-morning territory. “Trinity,” I murmur with a boldness fueled by wine and her company. “Would you like to come back to my room?”
She doesn’t hesitate, her lips curving into a smile that could lead men to war. “I thought you’d never ask.”
After I charge the meal to my room, we stand, and I offer my arm, feeling like a character in an old-fashioned romance as we stride toward the elevator.
The elevator doors slide shut, enclosing us in a quiet cocoon of charged air. My pulse quickens as I turn to her. Trinity leans casually against the wall, but her eyes betray her. There’s a glint of something daring, something that mirrors the fire simmering in my veins.
I take a step closer, hesitating for just a moment, long enough for her to tilt her chin up and meet my gaze. Her lips part, the barest invitation, and I’m drawn in, the pull magnetic and irresistible.
My breath mingles with hers, but the kiss isn’t rushed. It’s exploratory, deliberate, each second a test of boundaries. Her fingers thread through my hair, anchoring me, and my hand finds the curve of her waist, pulling her closer.
By the time the elevator dings, signaling our floor, we’re already lost in the rhythm we’ve created. The doors slide open, and for a heartbeat, we stand there, breathless and unwilling to pull apart. But then the hallway beckons, my room promising privacy and the chance to let this moment unravel into something even more consuming.
We move together down the corridor to my room, and I swipe my keycard, the door clicking open. Before it fully shuts, my back hits the wall and Trinity’s lips are ravaging mine with a fervor that leaves me gasping. My fingers slide into her jeans, finding the lace edge of her panties. She’s wet, ready.
“Tell me what you want,” I groan between kisses.
“Hard and fast,” she breathes, her chest heaving.
“Your wish,” I murmur, lips trailing down her neck, “is my command.”
I grasp the edges of her sweater, and the buttons slip free, one by one, revealing soft skin beneath. I slide the garment off her shoulders, letting it fall to the floor, forgotten. “You can tell me to stop if it becomes too much,” I whisper, even as every fiber of my being hopes she won’t utter those words. My fingers dip into her bra to find her nipples, teasing them into hard peaks. I watch, fascinated by her reactions as I twist and tug gently, testing, exploring her boundaries.
But Trinity is full of surprises. She goes to work at my belt, undoing the buckle with eager haste. Before I can process it, her hand is inside my pants, her grip firm around my cock. A surge of heat floods through me as she strokes, her voice a sultry plea for more. I pull my shirt off and drop it to the floor.
“Greyson…” she begs, and the sound of my name on her lips is my undoing.
I drop to my knees, an act of worship as much as it is a prelude to pleasure. Sliding her panties off, I then hook her leg over my shoulder, my face inches from the center of her desire. The scent of her arousal is intoxicating, and without hesitation, I dive in, tasting her. She’s sweet and heady, and I drink her in like a man dying of thirst.
Her moans are music to my ears, a symphony of appreciation that spurs me on as my tongue dances over her folds, lapping at her warmth. My fingers play a more daring tune. Three find their way inside her, stretching, filling, moving with intent. My mouth claims her clit, sucking deeply, savoring the pulsing nub between my lips.
“Greyson!” she cries as her body tenses, then shatters, her climax washing over us both in waves of pure ecstasy. Her name is a prayer on my tongue as I continue to worship at her altar, committed to every note of pleasure that escapes her lips.
When she’s nearly boneless, I lick my fingers clean, the taste of her lingering as I rise and gaze into her eyes. “Get on all fours and face the mirror in the corner.” My voice is thick with desire as I point to the bed. She complies, and I admire the curve of her ass as she positions herself. My pants hit the floor with a soft thud, and as I roll a condom down over my length, I lean in close. “Is this okay? ”
“Yes,” she breathes.
“You’re absolutely stunning,” I murmur, my hand coming down in a gentle spank that causes her to gasp, a sound that sends heat straight to my groin.
A shiver runs through her body, and I watch, mesmerized, as a drop glistens at her entrance, betraying her readiness. “You’re such a turn-on,” I confess as I position myself behind her. With one smooth motion, I push inside, and we both groan at the contact. She’s tight around me, warm and enveloping like a velvet blanket that’s been heated by the sun. It’s perfect.
The room fills with the rhythmic slap of skin against skin, a primitive drumbeat to our carnal dance. I grip her hips as I thrust harder, faster. Her serene expression tells me she’s lost in the sensation, and it drives me wild. Heat coils low in my belly, an intense pressure signaling the impending release.
Reaching around, I find her clit, strumming with urgency. She’s responsive under my touch, and I revel in her pleasure, the way she tilts her hips back to meet each of my thrusts. Then, with a cry that echoes off the walls, she cascades over the edge again, her body clenching tight around me. The sensation tears my own climax from deep within, a surge so powerful it leaves me breathless. Together, we ride the waves, united in a moment of pure ecstasy.
We collapse on the bed, a tangle of limbs and heavy, satisfied breaths. My arms instinctively encircle her, pulling her close against my chest. The rise and fall of her back against me gradually slows as our breathing synchronizes.
She whispers into the silence of the room, “You’re incredible.”
The words wash over me, a wave of warmth in the afterglow. I press my lips to her cheek, a silent thank you for the shared passion. We don’t speak further, but words are unnecessary. Our bodies entwined, we drift into sleep, exhaustion claiming us both.