11. Chestnut Wine
Finn
“How do you know Elvira?” Courtney nods her head towards the now-exiting pair. Her words are playful but her tone harbors the slightest bit of jealousy that she attempts to hide behind a tight-lipped smile. Her jealousy is hot; I like when a woman is protective of what she wants. Admittedly, I don’t know if Courtney wants me or if she simply wanted to win that catfight. Either way, I’m grateful that she was able to put Starr in her place, a task I’m far too polite to do. I gently swirl my wine glass, staring into the dark liquid before answering her question.
“She was born and raised here just like me. We went to school together from elementary to high school.”
“She’s certainly a fan of yours,” Courtney remarks, her bark brown eyes watching my response closely. I offer her a small smirk, her bratty tone causing my cock to jerk in my pants.
“She’s always been fond of me.” I immaturely play into her envy, curious as to how far she’ll push to find out more about Starr and I. I shouldn’t do this, I shouldn’t allow myself to sink to this level of juvenility. It isn’t very demure of me, a quality I strive to embody each day but there is always a man in every gentleman and the man in me is desperate to know how badly Courtney Berrycloth wants me. I want her to admit it, to tell me that her feelings for me are as undeniable as mine are for her. They’re right there, rippling below her guarded facade, ready to break the surface tension and driving me crazy.
“How about the other shining twin?” She sips her wine, changing the subject in an attempt to hide behind another topic.
“Soul isn’t originally from Havenwood. Starr met her on a weekend trip to Salem; they started making music together, and the rest is history.” The same waiter returns for our food order, and I have to force my eyes off Courtney’s beautiful face.
“What can I get for you, sir?” He asks politely, poising his pen to his paper pad, eager to jot down my order.
“May I please have the fettuccine Alfredo with a side salad?” I order my typical, safe option with a healthy side. I never stray much from regularity or routine; it’s made my life quite predictable, but the woman sitting across from me is anything but predicted. I’m unable to look into her warm brown eyes without feeling a twist of guilt and the pain intensifies each second that I spend in her presence without being truthful with her. I grit my teeth, worried the immense turmoil I feel for secretly luring her here will become unbearable and break me, forcing me to confess and reveal our entire plot to her. I keep myself silent, remembering what is at stake if she doesn’t sign over those remains, and for the moment, it’s enough to muzzle me.
“Very good and for you, miss?”
“I’ll take the eggplant rollatini, please; thank you.” We hand back our menus, and Courtney’s focus is on me once again. My cheeks heat under her gaze as if she can read my mind.
“Your turn,” She nibbles on a piece of warm bread that the waiter had dropped off at our table. I cock my head at her questioningly.
“Tell me how Finn Abernathy became the beloved mayor he is today.” She clarifies, throwing her compliment in so casually as if it’s simply a fact that I’m beloved. My dark eyebrows knit together and I try to pick out the important details before I decide on the best synopsis of my life.
“I was born and raised in Havenwood, like my great-great grandparents before me. My parents passed when I was eleven.” Guilt flashes across her features as her plump lips part. I shy away from her gaze, not wanting to see the all-too-familiar pity in her eyes.
“Finn, I’m so sorry,” Courtney’s words are soft and comforting like a silk blanket but I don’t want her to see me as wounded or damaged because of my unhappy past.
“It’s okay, I promise.” My tone is reassuring, and I try to keep it strong, but some of the pain bleeds through like it always does when I talk about my parents.
“It’s part of my history and it’s no secret. It still hurts and I miss them but I think they’d be proud if they knew what I was doing for the town they loved so much.” I admit, offering her a half smile.
“I know they would,” this time, Courtney reaches her hand across the table, placing it on top of mine. I stare at it for a beat, marveling at how small her palm is compared to my own. I take in a small breath and continue, not wanting to deter her.
“Agnes took me in without a second thought. Milo and I were best friends from school and practically brothers anyway, so it was an easy choice. So she says.” I tilt my head and chuckle, raising an unsure eyebrow. I was always a tame child, just as I am a tame man now, but I always canonize Agnes and Phil for taking in a traumatized orphan.
My joke draws a giggle out of Courtney, the joyous and enticing sound reminding me of wind chimes tinkling in a warm summer breeze. It’s a noise so genuine and loving you almost can’t help but smile.
“College was a requirement for Milo and I, so he commuted to Boston University, and I took my classes online. You’re looking at a man holding his B.S. in Political Science, you know,” I joke, taking a sip of the wine. Courtney smirks back at me, loading her metaphorical gun.
“And you’re looking at a woman with her M.A. in creative writing.”
I scoff playfully and grasp my chest.
“You’ve outdone me; that hurts my manhood.” She giggles, releasing that precious sound once again. I wrap up my life story, boring even myself.
“From there, it’s not very interesting, not that the first bit was. I shook hands and kissed babies, and when elections came, I did pretty well. I won’t lie. It helped that our last mayor completely squandered the town’s funds, so his reelection was off the table. ”
I know I won the election because of my organic efforts. Many people told me they would have voted for me regardless of Jerry’s slip-up, but I’m not one for boasting, especially not to my dates. I know my accomplishments, and that is enough.
“Havenwood is the last piece of my parents I have left. Being its mayor is a privilege that I don’t take for granted.” My blue eyes drop down to the golden tablecloth, I study its embroidery to distract from the truth of my words. “I’ll do whatever I have to to save it.”
That’s the most honest and unguarded thing I’ve said to Courtney all night, only it isn’t just a figure of speech it’s a promise. One I know I have to fulfill, for my parents, for the residents of Havenwood, and once upon a time, for me. But now there is something else, someone else, I want more than I want Havenwood to survive. My motives for getting close to Courtney all stemmed from a place of genuine attraction but she will never believe me once she knows what I’ve done, and I couldn’t blame her for it.
My spiraling thoughts are interrupted by the waiter placing our steaming entrees in front of us respectively and offering a quick “Enjoy!” before dashing off to his next table.
“This looks amazing,” I admire, looking over my pasta. I keep my attitude light, attempting to move on from our previously heavy conversation despite the pieces of my mind still linger there unwillingly.
“It does.” She responds with a delicate smile, I see the cogs and wheels rolling behind her eyes as she thinks hard on something.
“Cheers,” She offers, holding up her wine glass. I smile at her uncertainly but click my glass to hers anyway, the sound reverberating between us.
“What are we toasting?” I ask curiously as I raise the rim of my glass to my lips, Courtney closely tracking the motion.
“You,” Her doe eyes are half-lidded as she raises her glass, tipping her head back and letting the wine trickle down her throat. I watch intently as her head reclines, exposing more of her long neck, the tan skin practically begging to be kissed. I clear my throat, fixing a smile on my face and shoving down my desire before she looks at me once again.
The rest of the dinner was amazing despite its rough beginnings. At one point, the restaurant owner, Amir, came out from the back to greet us and introduce himself to Courtney. Amir is a kind man in his mid-forties with olive skin, a thick Italian accent, and a plump belly, one I imagined I would also have if I had constant access to this amazing food.
After finishing our meals, we drive back to her house in the same silence we arrived in; this time, the quiet is much more comfortable, with both our stomachs full and lingering smiles on our faces. A sufficient end to one of the best nights I’d had in a while.
As we pull into her driveway beside Agnes’ house, I hesitate, unwilling to say goodbye so soon. I feel like I’ve just started to get to know the real Courtney and crave more of her.
“Oh, hey, I think I left my wrench inside. Could I grab it?” I wait for her permission. I’m not entirely sure if I left the wrench or not, but I want more time with her, regardless.
“Yes,” she answers quickly, her cheeks flushing as she turns away from me. I grin as slip from my seat and loop around the vehicle to open her door.
We approach the wooden front door together and I watch with adoration as Courtney anxiously fumbles with her keys. I wait patiently behind her in no rush at all, keeping my hands shoved deep into my front pockets, hiding the erection mounting in my jeans from being so close to her. She locates the correct key and lets us inside.
Within seconds of us stepping inside, thunder cracks loudly from the heavens, and a downpour ensues immediately after, as if by divine intervention.
“Shit,” Courtney jumps at the sound, watching the buckets pour from the safety of the entryway. I chuckle softly at her jumpiness, reminding myself Californians probably forget what weather even is. The wrench truly was left on her counter after all and I snatch it up, heading back to the entryway to make my unavoidable exit.
Courtney turns back to face me as she closes the heavy door; a look of surprise overtakes her when she notices the tool in my hand.
“You’re leaving?” she asks as her head swivels to her left, looking out the window at the rain.
“Yes, thank you for an amazing night, Courtney.” We stand a mere few feet apart, her sweet fruity aroma drifting directly into my nose and sending my pheromones blazing. “I enjoyed getting to know you.”
I drink in the vision of her before making my way for the door, attempting to excuse myself as soon as politely possible. My erection is still very much present and more blood is flowing south by the second with her sweet scent tempting me. I need to get home and relieve myself of the ache building in my base.
“Woah,” she says, holding her hand haltingly against my chest, the contact sending my emotions into overdrive.
“Did I… say something wrong?” I ask her in confusion, replaying my last few sentences in my head.
“No, that’s not—you’re sweet,” she reassures, causing a heated blush to spread onto my high cheekbones. She jabs a thumb behind her, showcasing the blinding rainfall happening outside. “You can’t drive in this; it’s raining like crazy.”
I can’t help but laugh, not at her but at the concern of a New Englander driving in the rain. A puzzled expression overtakes her face, so I clarify.
“I really appreciate your concern but this is normal here.” I try to reassure her, biting back the desire to reach out and stroke her cheek with the back of my hand. I want to feel her skin on mine, to break my resolve and just tell her how badly I want her and that I don’t care if that makes me crazy. Another crack of thunder and flash of lightning has her wide eyes flying to the window.
“Nuh-uh, no way,” she shakes her head, firm in her decision. “I can’t let you drive in this. Will Agnes let you stay over?” She twists the nob of the front door, poking her head out and searching the house next door for any lights. I know she won’t find any, my adoptive mom prides herself on going to bed on a strict schedule.
“No chance, Agnes would kill me if I dared to wake her up right now. Ma likes her beauty sleep.” I shiver as I recount a memory of when I had dared to wake a sleeping Agnes. I watch Courtney bite her bottom lip, contemplating how to proceed.
“You can stay here,” she announces, nervously tucking a strand of caramel behind her ear.
“Courtney, I promise—” I begin to comfort her, but she cuts me off.
“Please?” Her eyes stare up at me pleadingly. A part of me wonders if she wants me to stay, not because of my safety but simply because she wants me here. I open my mouth to argue again, but the words die on my exhale as I search her beautiful, hopeful face.
“Okay.” I relent, raising my hands in surrender.
Courtney’s face lights up in a smile then quickly drops as she remembers.
“I only have one bed.”