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I turn, kissing her lips. “Do you want something to eat?”
Penny lifts the mug to her lips, shaking her head. “Maybe later,” she says, taking a sip of coffee. “Are we tasting the mead today?”
I turn, leaning back against the counter as I drink my coffee. “I think we should, yeah.”
Pen hops up onto one of the stools at the kitchen island, the t-shirt she’s pulled on riding up and exposing her thigh. She smirks at me when she catches me looking.
“Think it’s going to be okay?” she asks.
I chuckle. “God, who the fuck knows. I hope so.” I step closer, my hand now sliding up her thigh as I lean in and press a kiss to the top of her head. I don’t think I’m ever going to get used to mornings like this.
“I think we’ll be good,” she says with a nod.
I grin down at her. “And have you decided on a name for our mead?”
Penny takes another sip of her coffee before putting the mug on the counter. Slipping her arms around my waist, she pulls me closer so I’m standing between her legs. “Yep.”
I place my own coffee on the counter before wrapping my arms around her shoulders. “And?”
Pen’s smile widens as she leans closer and presses her lips to my bare chest, kissing and sucking my skin as a low groan falls from my mouth, my dick stirring.
“Pen,” I murmur, my hands slipping beneath her t-shirt, fingers trailing a path up her spine.
“Yes?” she whispers, chuckling a little.
My hands slide down her back to her ass and I give it a squeeze. “The name?”
She looks up at me, her chin resting against my chest, her eyes clouded with lust and want. “What do you think of P,T and Bee?”
“P,T and Bee,” I repeat, already loving it.
“Yeah. Do you like it?”
I grin, slipping my hands under her ass now as I lift her from the stool. She squeals as she wraps her legs around my waist and her arms slip around my shoulders.
“I fucking love it,” I tell her, walking her out of the kitchen and back to the bedroom.
Chapter Thirty-One
Penny
I can’t believe we’ve just named our business, a business that we created from scratch with basically no clue what we were doing. We’re just two people who never really had any set path, never finishing anything and letting everyone convince us we were just settling when we took jobs at a vineyard.
But these jobs led us here, led us to each other and something about our connection motivated us to do more, to be more. Just two lost souls, wandering along until we found what felt right and everything about us and this place and what we’re doing feels so damn right.
The two of us are now standing in the shed, back to once again staring at our mead production and wondering what the hell we are even doing. The high we were riding has now subsided and we’re back to being masters of none, confused as hell.
“Do you think this is how all the great ones start?” I ask, breaking our silence, but still not saying what both of us are thinking.
We’re fucking clueless!
“I would think that most people have a bit more confidence than us, but maybe I’m wrong,” Tommy says, giving me a simple smile.
“Why do you think we’re like this every time we walk into this shed?” I now prompt, hoping he has an answer that will suddenly create this newfound confidence in both of us.
“Every time we walk into this shed, I pretty much just picture you naked and any thoughts I had about what I’m supposed to be doing go right out the window.”
“Seriously, Tommy,” I chastise, my eyes narrowed at him. “I’m trying to have a serious conversation with you.”
