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I stretch my legs as I dismount from Thunder. Lana walks toward a nearby tree, and she leans against it, taking out her phone to check her messages. Archie won’t have written to me since I told him I’d be gone for two hours. So I leave Lana to it and go look for my sister.
I find Winter sitting on a rock, gazing out at the horizon with a serene expression on her face. I walk up to her and sit down beside her, taking in the view myself. We sit in comfortable silence, watching the sun glow over the beautiful valley.
“You know, I’m really proud of you,” Winter says suddenly, breaking the silence.
I turn to look at her, surprised. “Why?”
“You’ve been handling everything so well lately. I know it’s been tough, but you’re really starting to move forward and let go of the past,” she says, giving my shoulder a reassuring squeeze.
I smile at her, feeling grateful for her support. “Thanks, sis. That means a lot.”
We sit there a while longer until Lana calls out to us that it’s time to head back. As we mount our horses and follow the guide toward the stables, I can’t help but feel a sense of peace wash over me. Maybe Winter is right; maybe I am starting to let go of the past and move forward. And maybe that’s thanks in part to Archie and the unexpected connection we share.
My heart skips a beat just thinking about him. It’s moments like this that make me wonder if there could be something more between us than just a casual fling. But I push those thoughts aside and focus on enjoying the present moment with my sister and friends.
Once we arrive back at the ranch, we are spoiled with a perfect pairing of estate wines served with an assortment of cheeses, charcuterie, spreads, fruit, and nuts.
Honestly, Napa is ruining wine for me. How will I ever go back to drinking regular, run-of-the-mill wines? My palate is getting used to America’s best.
Unbidden, my treacherous brain follows that same train of thought, but in a different, dangerous direction.How will I ever go back to dating regular, run-of-the-mill guys?Archie is the Cabernet Sauvignon of dating. He’ll ruin men for me.
In search of a distraction from these ever-disturbing thoughts, I finally pay attention to the estate’s sommelier as he explains the tasting notes of the vintage we’re sipping.
“You’ll find rich flavors of blackberries and black plum, dried herbs, sweet oak spices, vanilla beans, and toasted almonds. Take another sip,” the sommelier instructs. “Appreciate how all these aromas unfold in mesmerizing layers, sending a wave of deliciously intense complexity across the palate in a tasty expression of power and elegance.”
But hearing the wine’s merits is no use as a diversion. My mind keeps associating everything with Archie. In the few short days I’ve known him, I’ve realized Archie has just as many layers of complexity as the wine in my glass. He can be both sweet and strong. But also the most attentive, considerate, well-mannered man, only to transform into a sexual animal two hours later. Still alert to my every need, but definitely not poised about satisfying them.
And I can’t ignore the newfound confidence in myself he’s given me. Not like dating Johnathan did, like I felt grateful someone would consider me worthy of their love. Archie has promised me no love, no feelings, and yet, he’s made me feel better about myself. Stronger, freer. Like I have a right to be happy again.
And let’s not forget those washboard abs. I know it’s a superficial feature compared to his other qualities, but, gosh, I’ve never seen abs so defined in real life. The muscles are so hard I could grate any of these cheeses on them. And ours is just a fling so it’s okay for me to be a little superficial and relish the most perfect six-pack I’ll ever touch.
“Most of these characteristics,” the sommelier continues, “can be attributed to the magical nature surrounding us. Here, our grapes thrive on ideal soil and perfectly balanced weather conditions with just the right amount of sunlight and rain.”
Mmm. That makes me reflect on how I don’t know much about Archie’s background. My knowledge stops at the groom-related basics: he and Logan met in college and have stuck together ever since, merging their friendship with their professional lives. But what of his life before college, of his family, or of where he went to high school? Who was his first kiss? What was his major in college? How did he become an adventurer? I want to discover all of this and more about him. Will I have the time? A few days seem too short a period to satisfy my curiosity.
Hey, you’ll see him again. He’s your sister’s soon-to-be-husband’s best friend. Your paths will cross sooner or later
Yeah, especially since I hope to be moving to the Bay Area soon to be closer to my sister. But the intimacy of this week? That will be gone. He won’t be whispering sweet nothings in my ears and cuddling me to sleep. Or making me bite on the pillow to stop myself from screaming his name and waking up the entire hotel. All of that will be gone. He’ll probably be doing it with someone else.
The thought causes a dark swirl of nausea in my stomach. Oh, gosh, there I go again; I have to stop obsessing. I concentrate back on the wine explanation. I look around and everybody else seems keen on listening. Am I the only distracted one? Well, I’m probably the only one having a secret affair with the best man.
“But good soil is not all it takes to make superb wine,” the sommelier carries on. “There’s a science to turning perfect grapes into a perfect wine. First, we hand-harvest them with three stages of strict sorting: on the vine, then by individual clusters, and then again by single berry following the de-stemming. The grapes that make the cut are then moved into traditional French oak tanks for cold soak, fermentation, and extended maceration…”
Try to concentrate as I might, I’m helpless. As the explanation continues, I zone out again, my thoughts inexorably returning to Archie. I cringe as I contemplate the number of women it took to make Archie such a great lover. If a Cabernet Sauvignon takes twenty months of barrel aging to reach its final, perfect blend, I wonder how many years Archie had to play the field to become as skilled as he is today?
And why do I have to obsess about his past? Can’t I just enjoy the final product?
Yes, I can, and I should. But again, just as with the wine, I’m getting used to the best and it will be hard to go back to dating ordinary men. That is, once I’m ready to dip my toes in the dating pool again.
Mmm…
I bet no one can grow a beard as soft as his.
Oh, do we like beards now?a little prickly voice asks in my head.
Not beards, plural, only a very specific one.
Hon, you sound like someone who’s bitten off more than she can chew,the voice replies.
