Page 50 of Love Beyond the Illusion
“Oh, honey, looks like you sampled the product today, didn’t you?” she says, patting Piper’s head.
“She did,” I say, biting my bottom lip.
Gemma’s eyebrows raise. “Rob will do that to you.”
Piper looks at me with the biggest grin on her face, then slips right into my arms. I pull her in close.
“Give her time. She’ll learn how to hang.”
“Yeah, I know. It is hilarious,” I reply to Gemma while gazing down at Piper’s flushed face.
“I’m fine. I had so much fun here. I love this place,” she coos, rubbing her nose.
“You don’t mind bringing the food up before you head out for the day?” I ask Gemma, steering Piper toward the stairs.
“Of course not. It’ll be right up.” She tosses over her shoulder while walking into the kitchen.
Piper and I take the stairs to the third floor and then onto the balcony. “It’s beautiful up here. Is this where we’re going to have dinner?”
“Yeah, is that alright?”
“Yes!”
We both take our seats at the small bistro table. “What do you think? I know it was a busy day, and you met everyone so fast, but what did you think about the winery?”
Piper flashes me a wide, warm smile. “I love everything about this place. The smells, the stories—the people. I’m so glad you shared this part of your life with me.”
Having her here has felt so natural, but is that the wine talking or Piper? “I’ve had a love/hate relationship with this place since childhood. Seeing it through your eyes today has been enlightening.”
The sun is setting over the horizon, lighting up the hills with a low orange glow reflecting off her face. It unexpectedly causes my breath to catch.
“Good. I’m glad I could help.”
I don’t respond because my mind goes blank. I’m trapped in her gaze. In this light, she looks incredible—well, in every type of light, she looks incredible.
Piper sees me staring, and even though my instinct is to look away, I don’t. “You are impossible to read,” she complains, her forehead creasing. “And that says a lot, coming from someone like me who’s good at reading people.”
I hear her words, but all I can think of is the amazing day we’ve had. I share my childhood home with her—a place I haven’t shared with any other woman. A place that I’ve kept to myself for more reasons than one. Does she see me forjust Jack,even in this environment?
A light breeze brushes past us. Pushing her hair in front of her face, she whips it around and locks eyes with me. “Why are you staring at me like that?”
My heart jumps into my throat as the words I’m about to say replay in my mind before they softly come out of my mouth. “Can I kiss you?”
She inhales a sharp breath. “What did you ask me?”
I lean forward, mesmerized by her beauty in this light. “You heard me.”
“If this is your way of messing with me, it’s not funny. It’s not like this is the first time you’ve seen me have a little too much to drink—” She pauses, then holds up her index finger into the air. “I guess Vegas was way different because I was plastered that night.”
She’s avoiding my question. But I want to kiss her. I want to feel Piper’s lips on mine again without multiple drinks in me. I need that closeness right now after the day I’ve had. Standing in my dad’s office, surrounded by her comfort, was something I hadn’t felt in a long time. And maybe tomorrow I’ll regret this, but right now, it’s all I can think about. My whole life will be turned upside down in a matter of weeks. I’m feeling brave and want to shoot my shot.
Keeping my eyes on her, I say her name, “Piper?”
She slowly turns her head. Her pupils are large saucers. She’s nervous.
I glide my hand up the side of her face, threading my fingers through her hair before hooking the back of her head. She doesn’t move away. Her eyes fall to my lips. I slowly lean in, not expecting her to meet me in the middle, but she does. Then she pauses. We share a breath for a moment before Piper’s mouth finds mine. My eyelids automatically close.
Her soft lips taste like a combination of watermelon lip gloss and Cabernet. At first, our mouths move slowly, massaging each other’s lips. But I want a better taste. Sliding my tongue along the seam of her lips, she parts them and invites me inside.
