2. Owen
two
Owen
I’ve either lost my mind, or I’m a fool. A fool who three hours ago called the Forever Yours Mail Order Bride Company and signed up at the last minute for the singles wine tasting tour tonight.
After my encounter with Snow, as I call her since I don’t know her real name, I haven’t been able to think about anything else.
I tried to be strong and push her away, but her sassy attitude and curvy body made me act like the carefree, fun-loving eighteen-year-old I once was before I joined the military.
It’s been fifteen years since I’ve been that person.
And today, for the first time in those fifteen years, I actually feel something, thanks to Snow.
What would she think of me if she knew I picked up her bikini top after she left, took it home with me, and jacked off with it wrapped around my cock?
The seductive sway of her hips as she walked away from me made my already painful shaft ache with a level of hardness I’d never experienced before.
And the way her naked breasts gently bounced when she first stood up to face me when I snuck up on her by the river is forever etched in my mind.
Now my fool ass is showered, shaved, and at a winery, getting ready to spend the evening socializing and drinking wine, two things I don’t particularly like. To see Snow again, I’ll endure it.
“Oh, you must be Owen, our last-minute guest.” A beautiful woman who looks exactly like my Snow greets me as I step into the winery.
But I know she’s not my Snow. This woman might look like her, but the underlying sassy stubbornness that Snow has is nowhere to be seen in this one.
I can definitely make out mischief in her eyes, but it’s not the same.
“That’s me.” I hold out my hand for her to shake, but instead she loops her arm around mine and leads me into the main wine-tasting area. Her touch stirs nothing in me—it’s almost like touching a sibling. Which, if I have anything to say about it, she’ll be my sister-in-law someday.
“Right this way, Owen. I hope you don’t mind—we normally seat four per table, but I was able to squeeze you in at Lyra’s table.
” She glances at a table in the center of the room, and my eyes follow her gaze only to find Snow standing there with two men and two women seated in front of her.
My Snow’s name is Lyra. “Lyra, this is Owen; he’s the last-minute guest I was telling you about. ”
“Owen?” Lyra’s voice comes out in a breathy little sigh. “What are you doing here?” Her gaze shifts to the two gorgeous women at the table, talking to the burly mountain men, all waiting for her to start the wine tasting.
I can see the wheels turning in her head as she takes in the scene before her. She thinks I’m here to meet someone, which I am—her. “A little woodland creature told me there was a wine-tasting gathering tonight.”
A huge smile crosses her face as her body relaxes. “I’m going to have to have a talk with that squirrel.”
Lyra’s twin glances between the two of us, that look of mischief shining brightly in her eyes. “Have you two met before?”
“We, ah, crossed paths earlier today.” I nervously rub the back of my neck with my free hand. What if I read the signals wrong and Lyra isn’t interested in me?
Shit, I definitely didn’t think this plan all the way through.
“Oh, you poor thing.” Lyra’s twin guides me to an open chair at the table’s corner nearest Lyra. “Have a seat—you must not be feeling very well either.”
Taking a seat, I glance at Lyra out of the corner of my eye and see her giving her twin a death glare. “Why do you ask?” I shift my attention back to the twin.
“Well, if you crossed paths with Lyra today, it had to have been at the doctor’s office, since Lyra had to call off for part of the day due to illness.” Her tone is too sweet to be authentic. She is up to no good.
“Liv.” Lyra scowls at her twin, but it doesn't faze Liv.
“Oh, unless Lyra had a booty call, I mean, a house call from the doctor.” A round of giggles and coughs erupts from the table at Liv’s little slip of the tongue.
“I’m serious, Liv, get lost.” Lyra looks as if she’s two seconds away from jumping over the table and killing her sister.
With one last jab at her sister, Liv pats my arm and says, “You’re in good hands, Owen—Lyra will take great care of you.
” The table erupts in laughter and whispers—it seems the singles might already be pairing off.
Which is fine with me—I’m here for Lyra, not anyone else.
Lyra’s scowl deepens as Liv scurries away.
“Don’t mind her; she’s the crazy twin.” Lyra smiles at the guests in front of her. “Now, before we begin, why don’t we go around the table and introduce ourselves?” Lyra nods to the woman on her left to start.
Once Lyra stops talking, I tune everyone else out as I study her profile.
By the river, with her hair in a messy bun and hardly any clothes on, she looked like a forest nymph frolicking by the water, waiting for a lover.
Here at the winery, she looks like an untouchable princess, her long hair flowing down her back in perfect, smooth curls—unlike the wild curls trying to escape her bun.
Her gaze shifts to mine as if waiting for something.
It takes me a few seconds to realize it’s my turn to talk.
“My name is Owen. I’m thirty-three. I just moved to Temptation Ridge today.
” The words come out flat. I’m not interested in this whole singles dating night.
“What about you?” I turn to Lyra, still standing behind the table while the rest of us sit.
If I had my way, I’d pull her onto my lap and kick everyone else out.
“Me?” Adorably, she points to herself, her eyebrows raising in surprise. “I’m just your Sommelier for the evening.”
“Are you single?” I hold my breath waiting for her answer. There is no way that if she did have a boyfriend or a husband, he would let her out of his sight to lie around half naked by the river.
“Y-yes.” She stammers. My sassy little Snow is flustered about sharing her dating life.
“But I’m not part of the matchmaking event.
” She holds her hands in front of her, as if in denial.
“Let’s get started.” She clears her throat and takes her time describing every last detail of each wine she presents at the table and the foods to pair with it.
Watching her swirl the wine in her glass is almost hypnotic.
Watching people spit their wine into a spittoon should be disgusting, but all I can think about when I watch Lyra demonstrate it is how I’d make sure she always swallows when she’s with me.
An image of Lyra’s lips around my girth as I feed her my cock has me shifting in my chair, trying to adjust the pressure in my balls without anyone noticing. It’s going to be a long night.