Page 43 of A Beginner's Guide to Forever
He curls his finger, urging me closer. I crawl across the blanket on my knees until he threads his fingers into the hair at the nape of my neck and draws me close enough to press his full lips to mine.
I pull back, feeling dazed and much too into him.
“For you,” he says, placing the package of cookies in my hand.
“Why don’t you date a younger woman? Your cousin thinks you should.” The words pop out of my mouth before I can filter them. I blame the wine. And perhaps how comfortable he makes me feel.
“First, Hayes is the last person I would ever take relationship advice from.”
“I’m serious, though. I want to know.”
He considers my question, swirling the wine in his glass. “You know who you are, and it has nothing to do with me, and that is rare. Younger women want different things. They want me to be something they’ve built up in their head that they think I should be. They want me to buy them dinner and designer handbags. With you I just get to be real. I get to be who I really am.”
It’s probably the best compliment someone’s ever paid me. To feel completely at peace, to know that you’re accepted and seen is ... immeasurably comforting.
“You also know what you want out of life, and I find that incredibly sexy.”
Warm tingles spread through me.
Hart helps himself to a cracker and urges me to eat too.
While we do, he tells me about the history of the land we’re sitting on and how his grandfather fought with the city council about rezoning the land for the vineyard. It’s fascinating, and the view is dynamite.
“I need a picture of this.” Gesturing to the green hillside, where giant white puffy clouds float lazily by. It’s like something out of a painting. It almost doesn’t look real. “I don’t have my phone.”
“Use mine,” he says, handing me his iPhone. He’s leaning casually back on his elbows with the sun in his tousled hair, and my gaze lingers on his strong jaw and perfect mouth.
“It’s locked.”
“Passcode is 7615,” he says.
I type it in and take the picture, then text it to myself while my brain fixates on the fact that he just gave me his passcode. That’s like giving someone the keys to the kingdom. He must not be worried about me snooping, not that I would. But it seems if he were concerned about me finding texts from other women, or incriminating photos, he wouldn’t have just handed over his passcode so willingly.
He’s been so vulnerable and open with me that I’m struck by the need to do the same.
“You asked about my biggest fear once.” I meet his eyes. “In Florence. Rather than answering, I quoted a line about how the sacrifices we make shape the people we become.”
“I remember,” he says carefully.
“I—I’m afraid of ending up alone.”
His brow creases. “I don’t think a woman as beautiful as you should ever worry about that.”
“Well, it’s true. I want to find my person.”
And have a baby.
But I’m not brave enough to voice those words. They’re too personal. It’s not his burden, certainly not at age twenty-five. It’s mine alone.
He looks intense, and he lifts himself up and moves closer. “I’m going to kiss you now.” His voice is low, raspy.
Hart kisses like he does everything else—slowly, deliberately, and with a sense of purpose. He tastes faintly of wine, and I run my fingers through his hair, urging him closer.
How I’ve found myself here, I’m still not entirely sure. The sheer number of beautiful women who would give anything to take my place in the arms of a very attractive, very eligible bachelor like Hart isstaggering. But it’smehe invited here. I still can’t quite wrap my head around that.
When he pulls back, I gaze up at him, dazed and slightly tipsy. “I really like how you kiss me.” I feel self-conscious as soon as the words leave my mouth.
I shouldn’t have admitted that.
