Finding Home (16 page)

She feels amazing in my arms. I could stay like this all day and night. It’s been too long since I’ve last had the warmth of a woman curled into me. Beth was the only woman I wanted in my arms, but having Sam here tightly against me feels surprisingly right. I just don’t want to scare her off.

It’s hard to keep Beth out of my mind. She crawls inside at the strangest times. Usually I don’t mind it; in fact, sometimes I welcome the distraction. But right now, I want my mind clear. I need to figure out what I’m feeling for Sam and how my body reacts to her. And it’s not just physical but emotional, too.

When I think back to the times we spoke on the phone, she was so easy to talk to. She would listen, but talk, as well. It was a perfect balance. Having her here has caught me off guard in a good way. It’s as if I’ve known her all my life and not just bits and pieces scattered here and there.

Something I told Jack last week resonates with me—about being home. Sam reminds me of home, and I want her to stay for a while. With her arms wrapped around me, I believe it. It’s like she fits into me, and our bodies know it. They respond and react. I’ve been waiting for what feels like forever for this sensation again. I grip her tighter so she knows how good she feels to me.

The music plays in the background, and I can’t help but sing in her ear. The words seem meant for us. The lyrics just fit. When we first touched it did feel like lightning running through me, what with the strange things I’ve been saying, and then spraying coffee all over her. So bizarre. When I really look into her eyes, I get lost in them. Yep, this song is describing us right now to a tee.

I don’t want to get up, but I know it’s getting late. I’m not sure how long we’ve been lying here, but I can tell she’s fallen asleep. I risk moving my arm slightly and prop myself up. I stare at her and my breath falters. Watching her sleep, I wonder if she’s dreaming and if it’s a happy dream. Maybe she’s dreaming of us?
When did I turn into some pussy-whipped poetic ass?

I gently shake her awake, and slowly her eyes flutter open. “Sam, hey, sweet Sam, you gotta wake up. We have to get going.”

She stretches her arms above her head, yawning. “Sorry, I guess I’m still tired from all the craziness of the past few weeks. I’m just a ton of fun.” I help her up.

“No complaints here. I like watching you sleep. You were making these cute little snoring noises mixed with sighs.” Her whole face turns bright red, and her look of horror is priceless.

“Oh my God! I don’t make noises. Wait, do I? I know that I’m a bed hog and a blanket stealer, but nobody has ever said I make snoring noises.” I brush the hair off her face and watch the redness grow even brighter.

“A bed hog, huh? That’s a real problem, ‘cause I’m a hog, too.” I pause to gauge her reaction.
Why am I even saying this?
“But I have to say, no one has ever complained of me snoring.” I wink at her, give her my smug grin, and go in for the kill. “It’s kinda loud and you even drool, too.”

“You jackass! I do not snore or drool.” She smacks me on the arm and walks toward the truck.

“Hey, aren’t you going to help me clean up? After all, you enjoyed the wine and chocolate so much!” I partly shout and laugh at her. She turns around and flips me off. “Hey come on, don’t do that! Didn’t I mention that I like a feisty woman who snores?” I’m having too much fun teasing her.

“Ben Foster, I hope you’re having a nice laugh about all this. I’ll continue to take my snoring, drooling self back to the truck.” I watch her open the door and slide in and turn the rearview mirror to face her. Touching her face, her mouth opens wide in surprise. I’m sure she feels the wetness from her drool. I love seeing her reaction.

I finish picking up, put the basket in the back, and hop in. She looks hesitant to say anything to me, so I wait patiently, trying to hold back my laughter.

“So, I’m sorry that I snapped at you.” She touches her chin again. “Apparently I do drool. I guess I must look gross when I sleep. We can add that to the list of Sam’s turn-offs!”

She tries to look away from me, but I won’t let her. “Hey, I happen to like that you drool. It’s cute and adds to your beauty. You, Sam, are real, and I like it. You are
real
to me.” I kiss her cheek softly and lean toward her ear. “Now snoring is a whole other story. That could be a deal breaker for me.” She playfully shoves at my chest.

“Yep, definitely a jackass!”

“I’m only teasing. You don’t snore. Just sigh sometimes. It makes me curious about what’s going on in that head of yours.” She just stares at me without saying anything for what feels like several minutes. The silence doesn’t bother me, though.

She blinks several times before speaking. “I haven’t had any good dreams in awhile, and if I did, I don’t remember them. Why is it we always remember the bad ones and not the good ones?”

Silence again surrounds the truck’s cab, and neither of us tries to fill it. I know exactly what she’s talking about. Finally, I open my mouth, but it feels so dry. “For some reason, I think it’s easier remembering the bad stuff. The things that haunt us, things we don’t want, or don’t know how to let go. Maybe our brain is hoping we’ll learn some great life lesson.” Pausing to take a breath, I continue. “In all honesty, it’s easier believing and dredging up the bad stuff than recognizing and replaying the good stuff. My dreams haunt me.” I pull her next to me so her forehead is touching mine. “Sam, you are so fucking real to me. I hope the bad dreams that hang on to me go away. I want to stop hurting and begin healing. I only want the good ones you can bring from now on.” I kiss her forehead softly and start the truck to make our way back to the barn.

Somehow, I manage to show Sam around the barn where we store the wine in large oak barrels. We go to the bottling room and have time to watch the machines smash up our grapes. I’m in awe at how quickly she understands the process and wants to learn all about it. She quietly observes and is not shy to ask questions or take notes. She said it’s the teacher in her, but I think it’s more than that.

She’s a total giver and her inner goodness shines. I bet she gives her all in everything and to everyone. How her past relationships didn’t work out is beyond me. However, curiosity is getting the better of me. Going slow won’t be easy, and we will both have to tread lightly.

Perhaps a conversation needs to happen between us sooner rather than later—one that will be difficult and leave our hearts open for a nasty ripping.

Spending all day with her is tougher than I thought it would be. After sharing those amazing kisses, I feel the need to touch her even more. I try to find any excuse I can that allows me to be close to her. Whether it’s a slight graze of our hands, or a bump into her side, my body wants to touch her. I even find myself leaning into her from behind to help open things.

My nerves are shot and my control is weakening.
Yep, feeling like a horny teenager all over again.
But this time it feels different. It’s not just getting my hands on her; it’s more than that. I want to get to know her and see where this could lead.

My memories of Beth still fight with my inner demons, but like Gramps said, she’d want me to try and be happy. Her eyes still haunt me, and the idea of Sam knowing this worries me. Would she want to be a part of my life knowing the whole story? Knowing how it’s my fault? I can feel the bile rising in my throat, and I desperately need air. I excuse myself and tell her that I’ll see her at dinner. I tell myself distance is the key right now. However, my yearning for her is beginning to outweigh my need for space.

Several days have passed and my attempt at space is shit. The tasting forces me to spend more time with her, which isn’t a bad thing, just a bit scary. I watch in awe at how well she commands the tasting. She’s a fast learner and a people person. She has no problem talking to others and sharing stories with them. Her gift to make people laugh and chat easily is another layer to her beauty.

She has so many layers that I want to discover, however, I need to take it at a much slower pace. At least that’s what I keep telling myself. She’s been here almost a week, and my need for air increases when she’s around. I’m sure she can sense my cautiousness, but seems to respect it. But going slow feels overrated, and it’s time to kick it up a notch.

“So, it’s Friday night and down in the center they have a nice outside market. I’m hoping you might want to join me tonight. There’s some great food, wine, and live music.” My boot kicks the dirt into the ground, and I keep my head down.

“Ben Foster, you take the meaning of slow to a whole new level. Are you finally asking me out for our first date?” I look up to see her smiling, and I know I’m doing the right thing.

“I guess I kind of am. Umm, if that’s okay with you? We don’t have to call it a date. We can do the friend thing that we talked about. But just so you know, I’d like to call it a date. I want to go out with you Samantha Cole.” Even though my stomach is in knots, I swallow down the threatening bile.

“I’d love to go on a date with you, Ben. Let me freshen up first, though, okay? Oh, and let’s try to avoid Jenny before we leave. She’ll be all over this.”

“I know. She’s going to be relentless. This is what she wants anyway, so maybe she’ll go easy on us?” I laugh at my own stupidity. “Ah, what the hell am I thinking? She’s going to be all over us
and
this.” I move my hand back and forth between us.

“I like this, but I have to warn you, no kissing tonight. Remember, I have a plan.”

“Yeah, but that has nothing to do with kissing.”

“Well, I’m adding an amendment. If and when I find a man who can make me change my plan, I will determine how long of a wait for the kissing and other stuff.” The mischievous grin is back.

“But, we already did the kissing, so we can move onto the other stuff.” Her mouth opens partially like she’s about to say something, but then closes it abruptly. Watching this girl react is better than watching a movie. She holds out her hand like she wants to shake mine.

She brushes her hair off her face before speaking. “It’s been a week, and slow has been good so far. I want to try and get this right. No rushing. I’m not sure when we will kiss again, but it will not be tonight.”

I’m having an incredible night. Ben has been a true gentleman, and our time together is effortless. He leads me around the downtown, and we stop at small shops and sample different foods. In the blocked off street a band is playing big band favorites like Frank Sinatra and Tony Bennett. We find a table outside a small café and order some wine and chocolate lava cake. We listen and watch couples dance to “Fly Me to the Moon.” I can’t help the smile that comes across my face.

“You have an amazing smile, you know that? I’m curious, what’s putting that smile there right now?” I take a sip of my wine and look back at the dancers. “I love watching the couples and seeing their happy faces. They all look in love. It’s a beautiful thing.”

“It is. The dancing is beautiful. What makes you think they’re in love, though?”