Page 44 of Work and Play
I go to see the doctor this afternoon, hopefully to get cleared to walk and drive, and generally be normal again. It’s been three weeks since I fell and that’s three weeks too long of being dependent on others for so much of what I need. But first, I have to get through lunch over burgers at Hastings with my best friend, who is determined to call me out on my hesitation in talking to Ashley.
“Finding out you’ve got a heart capable of feeling things is good, dude. Whoever first decided that guys don’t get to be in touch with their emotions was full of shit.”
I watch Ethan take a huge bite of his burger, searching for any hint of teasing in his face, but it’s not there. He really does mean that. And he’s not wrong.
“All I’m saying is, embrace it. You’ve spent your entire adulthood avoiding commitments with women, and that’s fine. But now you’ve found one who’s worth changing for.”
“I haven’t completely avoided commitment,” I reply half-heartedly. “There was Tessa in college, remember? We dated for a couple months.”
“Right. A couple months. Did you at any point think about the future with her or were you fixated on the present?”
“Jesus. Summer’s turned you into a fucking therapist,” I mutter, but there’s no malice behind the words. Ethan’s always had a softer side, a part of him capable of feeling things in a way I never was. I’d never admit it to him, but it’s something I’ve always admired. “And I dated your sister, remember? I treated her well.” I smirk at him, and Ethan rolls his eyes in return.
“Don’t mention my sister. That’s a period in time I want to forget. And this isn’t all because of Summer.” Ethan pauses, takes a sip of his beer, then continues. “Okay, it’s mostly because of her. But it’s also my parents, Mila and Jackson, and Reid and Abby. Love isn’t something to run away from. It makes life better.”
“Hey, I didn’t say anything about love.”
“I know you didn’t. But I also know you’re probably holding back with Ashley. Waiting for the other shoe to drop. What if it doesn’t have to? Can you let yourself just be happy?”
I let my head nod in response as his words sink in. I don’t really have any reason for my lack of experience in a committed relationship. I grew up with two loving parents, a great example of true love and partnership. They worked through the hard times as a team, and never shied away from showing affection in front of me. Deep inside I’ve always wanted that, but for some reason I’ve pushed that desire aside until now. It would be easy to chalk it all up to timing, or fate, and maybe that’s true. Or maybe Ethan’s right, and it’s because of Ashley.
“Moving on, I’ve got some good news. You can move back into your house next week. The landlord and I finalized the repair plan, and it should be done on the weekend. No more missing roof, no more Airbnb.”
I try to muster up the gratitude and excitement I’m guessing Ethan is expecting, but all I can manage is a half-assed smile. “Cool. Thanks.”
He keeps on talking, something about the Vancouver hockey team’s shot at playoffs, I think. I’m not really paying attention anymore. He doesn’t push me to comment, and thank fuck for that because I honestly don’t know how to put into words what the news about the house does to me. I know I should feel relief that in less than a week I can move home, but the truth is, that house doesn’t feel like home. It doesn’t have anything of me in it except my clothes and a few personal items. It was a place I could go to sleep, and that’s basically it. The Airbnb served the exact same purpose, with the added bonus of Ashley being there.
If I go back to my rental house, where does that leave us? It’s not like I can ask her to move in with me; even with our unconventional beginning, I know that would be too much, too soon. But if I move out of the Airbnb, will she see that as me pulling away, going back to the mixed messages I was guilty of sending her in the beginning? Not to mention that the very thought of not spending every night with her in my arms physically hurts. And that pain is amplified by the idea of her being hours away on the mainland. If I knew she was staying in Dogwood Cove, it would be easier. I wouldn’t have this growing doubt that everything is going to change, and not in a good way.
It’s a little embarrassing that it takes so long for me to reach the inevitable conclusion. I need to man up and just talk to her.
The idea of talking to Ashley about her plans is one thing. Executing it is another. Thankfully, my visit to the doctor leads to good news. I don’t have to use crutches any longer, I can drive, and return to normal activities within the limits of my pain. I walk from the doctor’s office back to the Airbnb where my car is parked, and take the time to come up with a way to finally give Ashley the romance she deserves. And if it happens to set the scene for us to talk about the future, all the better.
At the Airbnb I jump in the shower, take the time to style my hair, trim my beard, and for the first time in months, get dressed in clothes I haven’t had any reason to wear lately. Crisp charcoal grey dress pants and a white button-down shirt. After going back and forth in my head over the idea, I took the chance and called Pierre. I needed to make sure I’d have some privacy with Ashley for what I have in mind. He was all too happy to assure me that he’d be long gone before I arrive, but that Ashley had already told him her plans to stay behind and hang some artwork. My partner tried to warn me about treating Ashley well, but in the end he couldn’t hide his happiness that we were together. Looking back, I don’t even know why I ever thought he wouldn’t approve of our dating. The man loves love.
After making a couple of necessary stops, I head out to the winery. When I get there, I bypass the building where my girl is hard at work, and drive straight around to park in front of the barn. Hopping out of my car, I walk around to the trunk and grab the blankets and pillows I took from the Airbnb, and the bag that holds the few décor items from my rental house that I thought might help my plan along. Candles and wine glasses being the most important. And of course, I have a cooler bag that holds the crucial ingredient — wine.
Unlocking the door to the barn, I flick on some of the lights. The steel tanks don’t exactly lend themselves to a romantic atmosphere, but this isn’t my final destination. Out the back side of the barn is the half underground cellar we had built that will hold our barrels for aging, and racks of bottles when the wine is ready for that stage. I may be biased, but I think the cellar is stunning inside. We modeled it after the cellars found in the wineries in the Okanagan and down in Napa, with exposed beam ceilings, wooden floors and walls, and warm lighting. With a long table in the middle where we can provide tastings, intricate temperature controls, and room for all the barrels and bottles we could possibly want it to contain, this space is my nirvana. The barn, with its steel tanks and blending room, is where my work will take place. But here, this is where the magic takes place. And this is where I want to set things up for Ashley.
There’s no furniture except a long table, and most of the racks are empty, but that doesn’t detract from the intimate vibe of the dimly lit room. I set up the candles I’ve got, but I don’t light them yet. The blankets get laid out on the floor, with pillows piled on top. The floor is hard, but hopefully I’ve managed to make it comfortable enough. Once I’ve got our seating area arranged the best I can, I stand up and start to line up the bottles of wine I brought, opening the merlot to let it breathe. A quick dash up the stairs to grab a stool and finally, I light the candles, then survey my setup with satisfaction.
I grab my coat and take the stairs up to the door to the barn two at a time, filled with an energetic excitement. The distance between the tasting room and where I am is not large, but I’m impatient to get to Ashley. When I open the door and see her pulling on her coat, my heart swells with anticipation.
“Hey, sweet girl.”
She turns to me with a smile on her face. “Hi.” I close the space between us and cup her face in my hands and kiss her deeply. She meets me stroke for stroke of our tongues, and her little moans of pleasure hit me everywhere like mini lightning bolts.
“I’ve got a surprise for you,” I murmur against her lips, feeling them curve upward in response.
“I like your surprises,” she whispers, her eyes shining with happiness. I kiss the tip of her nose, her cheeks and finally her mouth again. Then I take her hands in mine, bring them to my lips, and press a kiss to her knuckles.
“Finn?” she teases, nodding her head toward the door. “My surprise?” Her eagerness is adorable, so I lead her outside, locking the tasting room behind us.
When we get to the entrance to the cellar, I open the door and the dancing light of the candles shines up the stairs, illuminating Ashley’s face and the expression of wonder and anticipation I see there.
“What is all this?” she asks as she slowly descends into the cellar. I watch her face, enthralled by the play of emotions. Happiness, excitement, desire, surprise, it’s exactly what I hoped for. I help her out of her coat, and hang it on a hook beside the entrance before taking my own off. Ashley watches me, and when she takes in my clothes, with my shirtsleeves rolled up and dress pants on, her tongue darts out to lick her lips. “Good grief, you’re sexy.”
My laugh escapes me and I hang up my coat, taking her hand to lead her over to the table that I have the wine set up on. “Thank you. Coming from the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met, that means a lot.” I can see her blush, even in the candlelight, and I tug her forward into my arms. “I mean that, Ashley. You’re stunning. Inside, outside, everywhere. Thank you for taking a chance on me, on us.”
