Alex
Eighteen
My phone vibrates against the kitchen counter while I’m rinsing coffee out of the mug I’d been nursing since midmorning.
I glance over, expecting a message from the clinic, but Josie’s name lights the screen instead.
The feeling of cold air and frost lamps still sits somewhere in my bones from a few hours earlier, and seeing her name brings the whole morning back with it.
I dry my hands on a towel before picking the phone up, already half smiling.
Josie: Thanks again for showing up this morning. I know it was the middle of the night.
I lean against the counter and type back with my thumbs, the quiet house making the exchange feel oddly private.
Me: You mean when your vineyard tried to freeze itself into extinction?
A few seconds pass before the typing dots appear again, and I picture her somewhere among the vines or back inside the house, hair pulled up, still running on caffeine and stubbornness.
Josie: We survived. Barely. I owe you.
I shake my head.
Me: You don’t owe me anything.
Another message appears before I can set the phone down.
Josie: How much sleep did you get after you left?
I huff out a quiet laugh and push off the counter to refill my mug with fresh coffee.
Me: Two hours. Three if we’re being generous. Did you get any?
Josie: Same. Apparently frost season doesn’t care about sleep schedules.
I lean back against the counter, cradling the warm mug in my hands. Exhaustion lingers somewhere behind my eyes, but the conversation pulls my mind away from frost alarms and cold air.
Me: So, what you’re saying is, the vineyard emergency response team deserves compensation.
Her reply appears almost immediately.
Josie: Dinner? Come over tonight and I’ll feed you.
I think for a moment before answering.
Me: That sounds suspiciously like payment.
Josie: Well, it’ll be Paradise Grill takeout. I’m not cooking after last night.
The idea of meeting at her place—just the two of us, no restaurant noise or waitstaff moving around the table—fills my mind with quiet anticipation. I glance around my kitchen and realize I’m already calculating the drive across town.
Me: I’m in. Just tell me when.
Josie: Seven?
I set the mug beside the sink and type my reply.
Me: Seven works. See you then.
Dinner at Josie’s house tonight suddenly feels like a nice end to the month, but first I’m off to work for a while and then spend the afternoon with Eloise. I should take her to the library for some new books after school.
At the end of the day, I stand in my bedroom.
Eloise is sitting on the couch downstairs with stacks of library books around her.
She’ll be occupied for hours. Dinner at Josie’s place is a simple plan on the surface, something we agreed to with the same casual tone we’ve carried through the last few weeks.
But it doesn’t feel simple, and it’s been on my mind all afternoon.
I pull a clean shirt from the closet and go about making myself presentable.
In the bathroom mirror, I run a hand through my hair, noticing with mild amusement that I’m putting quite a lot of thought into this evening. The fatigue from the frost alarms still lingers faintly in my shoulders, though the shower earlier helped shake most of it loose.
Back in the bedroom, I reach for my wallet on the dresser beside the lamp. Then I slide open the drawer beneath. The small box near the back is exactly where it always is.
For a second I rest my hand on the edge of the drawer. The evening could easily begin and end with dinner and conversation, but the possibility of something more has been hovering since Josie’s invitation.
I take one condom out and check the expiration date. It’s good, so I tuck it into my wallet. After a brief pause, I reach back in and add two more.
Bringing extras might be optimistic. But optimism doesn’t feel entirely misplaced tonight. I shut the drawer, grab my keys, and head for the door.
“Where are you going?” Eloise asks.
“I’m going to have dinner with a friend.”
“Josie?”
That stops me dead in my tracks. “Um, yes.”
“Have fun. If she offers you snails, you have to try it to be polite.”
“Snails?”
“Yes. Gran told me I need to try everything to be polite.”
“She told me the same thing.” I open my arms for a hug, but Eloise ignores me. “I don’t think she’s ordering snails, so I’m probably in the clear.”
She reluctantly steps into my arms, and I hold her tight.
We head down the hall together, and Zara meets us in the kitchen. She takes Eloise’s hand and waves me on my way.
I pop into my car and remember that the other thing my mother likes to say is to always bring something for the hostess when you’re invited to dinner. The grocery store sits halfway between my place and Josie’s house, so that’s easy enough. The parking lot is still busy when I pull in.
I grab a basket and head straight for the bakery counter along the back wall. The glass case holds neat rows of pastries and small decorated cakes. I study them briefly before selecting a small cake with fresh strawberries and white frosting.
The clerk boxes it and sets it on the counter. I thank her and tuck the container into my basket before heading back toward the front of the store.
A stand of flowers sits beside the checkout lanes, buckets arranged in loose rows. I slow without meaning to. Most of the bouquets lean toward elaborate arrangements that feel slightly too formal for tonight, but one smaller bunch catches my attention.
The stems are simple, the colors softer, and when I lift the bouquet from the bucket, a few drops of water run across my fingers. For a moment I picture Josie opening the door and seeing them in my hand. That’s enough to make the decision.
I place the bouquet in the basket beside the cake and carry both items to the self-checkout. A minute later, I’m able to get out of there with no one stopping to talk to me. That must be a first.
The drive to Black Bear Winery goes quickly, and Josie gave me directions to the family homes. I pull up in front of her cottage just before seven. The porch light is already on, casting a glow across the front steps.
I gather the cake and flowers from the passenger seat and walk up to the door.
I knock once and wait.
The door opens, and Josie stands there in the warm hallway light, looking considerably more relaxed than she did in the vineyard before dawn. When she notices the flowers and the bag in my hands, surprise flickers across her face. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“I know,” I answer, handing her the bouquet. “But it felt like the kind of night that deserved something extra.”
She looks down at the flowers again, a small smile touching her mouth as she steps back to let me in. “I hope you’re hungry,” she says, gesturing toward the table. “Paradise Grill delivered about five minutes ago.”
The takeout containers are already spread across the table, and steam curls from the lid as Josie opens the first one, the smell of grilled vegetables and sauce filling the kitchen.
“After the frost alarm this morning,” I say as I take the plate she hands me, “I would have eaten just about anything.”
She laughs quietly. “That’s reassuring. I didn’t have the energy to cook tonight.”
“That makes complete and total sense.”
We fill our plates, and the conversation flows easily.
The vineyard comes up briefly as she describes the damage assessment from the afternoon, which she did text me about earlier, as promised, but the tension from the morning has already faded.
At one point our hands brush while reaching for the same container. Neither of us pulls back right away.
Josie glances up with a small smile before sliding the dish closer. “Go ahead,” she says. “You helped save the crop this morning.”
“That’s a dangerous precedent,” I reply.
As the food slowly disappears from our plates, we share stories of our work lives. I try not to focus on the negative side of cancer and give her reports of good days instead. She tells me about her relationship with her sister Sera. I love how close they are.
When we finish eating, we clear the table together, stacking containers beside the sink. Josie rinses the plates while I gather the empty bags, and when the counter is finally clear, she dries her hands and glances toward the living room.
“Do you want to watch something?”
“That sounds like the right speed for tonight.”
The light in the living room is dimmer than the kitchen, mostly just a lamp in the corner. Josie turns on the television and settles into one end of the couch as I sit beside her, leaving enough space to keep the moment casual.
She scrolls through the options and picks something without much discussion. For a few minutes we watch the screen. Josie shifts, tucking one leg beneath her as she turns slightly toward me. Her knee brushes my thigh, and neither of us moves away.
“You look like you’re finally relaxing,” she says.
“I think dinner helped,” I reply. “And knowing that the vineyard survived the night because of all the work you did.”
She smiles, softer now than the determined woman I saw directing heaters and lights before sunrise.
I rest my arm along the back of the couch, my hand close enough to brush lightly against her shoulder.
Josie doesn’t move away. After a moment she shifts closer instead, her shoulder pressing gently against my side.
The television keeps playing, but neither of us is paying attention anymore.
My hand slides from the back of the couch to rest against her shoulder, and Josie turns toward me in response, closing the small space that remained between us.
When she tilts her head slightly, I lean in.
The kiss is slow and natural, feeling less like a sudden decision and more like the inevitable next step of the evening. When we pull back, Josie reaches for the remote and lowers the volume until the television fades into the background.
I cup her face and press my lips to hers. She sighs.
“If you’re too tired—”
“Shhh…” She straddles me, and our lips meet again.
I want her. Not anyone else. I want to undress her and enjoy every bit of her body.
She sighs again.
“Are you okay?”
She grins. “Don’t stop what you’re doing.”
“I have a condom, but you can tell me if you want to stop.”
She reaches between us and cups my balls through my jeans. “I definitely don’t want to stop.”
So I unbutton her shirt and push it over her shoulders. She smells like lilacs and vanilla. Her bra is sheer, and her nipples strain beneath the fabric. I reach behind her to release her breasts and pinch both nipples between my fingers. Then I take one into my mouth and suckle it.
Her hips grind on top of me, and my dick is so hard, it feels like it’s going to break the zipper.
She wants this as much as I do.
I roll her over and stand to slip my shirt up over my head and drop my jeans and boxers to the floor. My dick stands at attention, ready for action. I give it two hard pulls to relieve some of the pressure building deep inside me.
She stares at my dick, and I can’t help but feel like a god when she licks her lips. I’d love to watch her take it in her mouth, but right now, I want her more. Hooking my thumbs into her panties, I drop them to the floor.
I kneel between her legs, ready to worship at the Josie altar. I don’t want this to be a five-minute thing. I press a kiss at the apex of her thighs, and she moans.
“Please…” She groans as she laces her fingers into my hair and guides me to her glistening pussy.
I do a quick swipe through her slit and pull her clit into my mouth.
She sighs. “That’s it.”
I lick slow and nip at her clit. She tastes like honey, and I want to bury my dick inside her immediately.
But I take a few breaths to tamp down my orgasm. Otherwise this will be over long before either of us wants it to be. I focus on licking her slit. I kiss and suck as she sighs and moans. When I look up, her eyes are squeezed shut.
I reach for her nipple and she gives a little cry, which sends sparks of need down my spine.
“I’m so close,” she whimpers.
“Not yet…” I grind my teeth.
I’ve never seen her so beautiful, her body flushed with pleasure.
I lean back and grab the condom from my jeans pocket, and she plays with her clit while she watches me roll it on. “Look at what you do to me.”
“I plan on doing a lot more to you.”
The corner of her mouth turns up. “I’m not going to stop you.”
I get back down on my knees and pull her to the edge of the couch. I lift her legs and push in hard. Her pussy tightens around my cock, and I circle her clit with my thumb as I pivot in and out, our bodies slapping together.
She grips my biceps, and I watch as her back arches and her breath stops.
A moment later, her pussy floods my dick as her orgasm crashes over her with a groan. A few more thrusts, and I can’t help but follow her over the cliff.
“You okay?” she asks once we’ve both returned from orbit.
I wrap my arms more firmly around her. “I’ve never been better.”