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“Like I was the other night when you brought up that swinger couple?” he shoots back, putting me in my place.
I walk over to him and slide my fingers into the front of his jeans, pulling him closer to me. He instantly softens at my touch, his body melting against mine and I love how responsive he is when we’re close.
I brush my lips along his, letting them linger for just a second before I murmur, “Tommy Andrews, I don’t think we’re meant for serious conversations.”
His lips curl into a smile against my mouth and he laughs a little. I feel the tip of his tongue poke out and trace my bottom lip and goosebumps dot my skin instantly.
“I think we’re meant for a lot of things that we don’t even realize,” he responds, his words soft, but so full of meaning. “Penny, we’ve been searching all this time, we just didn’t realize it.”
“And I had no idea you were right here all along,” I tell him, kissing him gently.
We can do this together. What’s the worst that can happen? The mead tastes like shit and we give up on it? That’s not that big of a disaster. We both have jobs we love, and we have each other, and our beautiful house and our crabby cat, we have the vineyard and the bees. We have Jack and Lauren who continue to be amazing to work for, and if this mead thing works out, it will just be an added bonus.
“If we keep coming into this shed and making out there’s not a chance in hell anything will ever get done with this mead,” I tease, pushing away from him and moving over to where we have the five-gallon container.
We ended up only doing two small batches in case it’s total crap, but I’m starting to come around to the idea that we’re pretty damn good at this.
We managed to move the bees and create Melrose Hive without too much of an issue, unless you count Tommy getting stung constantly as an issue. We harvested honey and jarred it all without it crystalizing or going bad. Now we’ve produced mead and if things have gone the way of the past, this is going to turn out well, too.
I hand Tommy a plastic cup, and the two of us stand there, taking in a deep breath as he lets the spigot go and the mead flows into the cups.
The pale amber liquid swirls in the cup and we both watch it in awe. It’s lighter than I thought it would be, more the color of hay than honey, and it smells a little musty, which we’ve read is good.
“Bottoms up,” Tommy says, tapping his cup against mine and without wasting another second, we put back the mead.
We swallow at the same time, my eyes focused on Tommy’s face, waiting for him to give any indication of what he thinks. I wait for him to shudder, for him to scrunch his eyes closed, for him to spit it out, but he doesn’t. And neither do I.
“Oh my god, it’s good,” I cry out, tossing my empty cup in the air before I throw my arms around Tommy’s neck. His hands grab my ass as he lifts me off the ground and I wrap my legs around his waist.
“Holy fucking shit, Penny,” Tommy calls out, burying his face in my neck. “I have no idea how we’ve gotten this lucky...” He doesn’t finish his thought, but he doesn’t need to.
I feel it all too. It’s this crazy sense of excitement coursing through me, this sense of accomplishment and satisfaction and an overwhelming sense of pride. We did this together and with every step we find ourselves closer to being able to say we’ve created something entirely from scratch.
“I don’t know if it’s luck,” I say, still wrapped in his arms, my forehead now resting against his. “I don’t know what it is, but I’m happy it’s all happening with you.”
“I thought we didn’t do serious conversations and you’re turning sappy on me again, Pen,” he jokes, his hand giving my ass a squeeze.
“Fine, I’m turning off the sappy part and calling Lauren and Jack to get their asses down here and taste this shit.”
“Not just yet,” Tommy murmurs into the crook of my neck, sending a shiver down my spine. The way he smells and the way his hands feel on my body is something I never want to live without, and while I promised him I wasn’t going to get all soft on him again, I need to say it.
“I love you,” I blurt out, interrupting any continuation of what he planned to say to seduce me. He doesn’t even need to say anything more, because I’m never leaving his bed; I’m never leaving him. “I want to be with you forever.” My words come out quieter this time, each one said on a small breath of air that suddenly feels trapped in my lungs.
“Forever?” he asks, pulling back to look at me and a deep feeling of panic washes over me, as if I’ve said too much. Like I let the moment carry me too far.
I nod almost imperceptibly and then I wait. I wait for what feels like a lifetime, each rapid breath, each racing heartbeat.
And then he says it, “I love you more than I can even begin to explain, Penny Cartwright.” My body sags against his and my chest tightens with the threat of tears. “You are everything I didn’t know I wanted.”
“I thought we weren’t doing sappy anymore?” I ask, the tears now spilling down my cheeks, my words coming out a little ragged.
“You’re the one who started it,” he teases, his mouth now on mine and I can’t help but take it further, slipping my tongue against his.
There’s something about this damn shed that turns us into horny teenagers and I wouldn’t be surprised if at one point we find ourselves christening this place.
“As much as I want to share the mead with Lauren and Jack, I need to get you home because if you think you can press your coochie against my dick and balls and walk away from me you’re wrong.”
I wiggle around in his arms, his grip tightening as I try to scramble away from him. He’s a total shithead and there will never be a day that he lets me live that down.
