Chapter 323
04
It’s just after noon when we pull into the long gravel driveway that winds like a secret through the hills. The countryside here smells like spring, like sun- warmed grass and old oak and faint traces of lavender on the wind. She has no idea where we are, only that I told her to wear something comfortable and bring her smile.
She did both.
She’s practically glowing in the passenger seat, wearing a light sundress the color of fresh peaches and those little white sneakers she loves because they’re “practical but still cute.” She’s got her legs folded criss–cross, messy braid tossed over one shoulder, humming along to some old French song I put on just for her. She doesn’t know I’ve been planning this for six weeks.
“Okay,” she says when I kill the engine. “Where the heck are we?”
“You’ll see.”
She steps out and the breeze tugs at the hem of her dress. Her eyes are already wide as they scan the horizon. Miles and miles of flowers stretch beyond the
rolling fences–wildflowers in every color, tangled in chaos and somehow more beautiful for it.
“Holy..” she breathes. “Asher.”
1 take her hand.
We walk slowly. The crunch of gravel gives way to soft grass. The fence is lined with blooms–daisies, coneflowers, wild poppies, tiny blue cornflowers–and
between them all, movement.
Her breath hitches.
Tiny brown bunnies.
Dozens.
One darts out from a thick clump of clover and freezes mid–hop a few feet away. She crouches low and smiles, hand outstretched.
“You planned this,” she says softly.
I grin. “Maybe.”
She glances over her shoulder at me. “You remembered.”
Of course I remembered.
That winter, four years ago, when everything was cold and brittle and broken. We’d been stuck at that retreat, freezing and tense. I still had half a dozen fresh scars and one still bleeding. But I’d wandered out into the woods that one morning and found a rabbit under the snow heavy huamble Cortied it back in my arms like some sort of silent peace offering. ()
She held it like it was made of light.
And she smiled in a way I hadn’t seen since before the mission
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4:58 pm
Chapter 323
I’ll never forget that.
“This is…” she looks around, blinking. “It’s like a dream.”
I let her soak it in. For a long while, we just walk–her fingers looped around mine, wind in our hair, little rabbits hopping through the tall grass like soft
punctuation to every gasp of delight that escapes her.
Then I lead her to the tasting barn.
It’s old and whitewashed and smells like honey and oak. Inside, the table is already set–small polished forks, crystal glasses, tiny square plates.
“Cake tasting?” she asks, giddy.
“Not just any cake,” I say, pulling her chair out. “Six kinds. All chocolate.”
She claps like a child. “Oh my God, Asher.”
They bring them out on silver trays. Dark chocolate ganache with raspberry drizzle. White chocolate mousse layered with espresso sponge. Milk chocolate
truffle with salted caramel. One slice has gold leaf curled on top. One has a little chocolate sculpture of a ballerina. The last one is a rich, dense flourless
chocolate with fresh cherries.
She closes her eyes after the first bite. “This is what heaven tastes like.”
I lean over. “No. That’s you.”
She rolls her eyes, laughing, cheeks glowing pink.
She doesn’t notice the vineyard owner whispering to me behind the counter. Or the slow trickle of guests arriving in the distance, guided down the back
path, hidden from her view.
Because right now, this is just us.
And I want her to think it’s just us for as long as possible.
After the cake, we walk again–this time toward the vineyard at the back of the property where they’re teaching people to crush grapes the old–fashioned
way.
She hesitates when she sees the basin. “Do I have to?”
“You don’t have to do anything,” I tell her. “But you will look adorable,”
She glares at me playfully, kicks off her sneakers, and lifts the hem of her dress as she steps in. The grapes are cold and squish under her feet, and she squeals.
“Oh my God it’s disgusting!”
“Yep, I laugh. “Keep going.”
She stomps and twirls and giggles while purple juice splashes up her calves and knees. The vineyard workers chees het on, and I take a dozen mental snapshots of the way she glows under the sun, how she lifts her arms and closes her eyes and just lives
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Chapter 323
I’m standing at the edge of the basin when she looks up at me and cocks her head.
“You’re not coming in?”
“I’d rather watch.”
“Pervert,” she says sweetly, then grins. “You’re enjoying this too much.”
I really am.
Comments
V Ness C
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Damnit now I have to review my last statement where I said the previous chapter was perfection! You went ahead and one–upped perfection to whatever this level is !!
7 days ago
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Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.
