Tasting Notes (20 page)

“It’s been a long day. In the morning, we can make arrangements for the jet to pick me up and take me back to Chicago.”

“The jet has already been arranged, Mr. Weston,” Scarlet said. “You are set to fly out tomorrow afternoon. I took a chance in thinking you’d want to return as soon as possible. Your flight can be changed if needed.”

“No. That was good thinking. Thank you. I guess I’ll see you soon,” West said. He hung up and placed his phone back on the table, then turned to face Rush.

“I could fly you,” Rush offered.

It was the first time he’d spoken since they got home. His words were quiet, almost reluctant, and West was filled with sadness. He knew there would be a time when he’d have to return to his life in Chicago, but he had filed those thoughts away with the rest of the thoughts of his company. He hadn’t wanted to face the reality of it, but here it was, creeping in despite it all.

“Scarlet has already chartered the jet.” He didn’t want to go back. He wanted to tell Scarlet fuck it, he was never setting foot in Chicago again. It wasn’t his home. Canyon Creek was. Rush was.

But there were other people relying on him. People who, without his company, wouldn’t have jobs. He couldn’t abandon the people he spent years working with because he had a new boyfriend. Life didn’t work like that. He’d been gone long enough. He had to save his company.

THIS WAS
it. He was leaving.

Rush felt ill from the moment West picked up his phone. It had taken everything in him to keep a cool façade. He didn’t know how he managed to sit calmly while West and Scarlet discussed the company and travel plans. His head was swimming. He was twitchy, and his body ached to have West in his arms. He wanted to grab on and never let go, as though if he held on tight enough, West couldn’t leave.

Rush stayed seated, staring straight ahead until he felt West’s hand on his shoulder.

“Come to bed,” he said.

His voice was gentle and filled with emotion, and Rush knew this was difficult for him too. Rush stood and followed West into the room he’d come to think of as theirs. West flicked the lamp off, and the moonlight filtering through the window was the only source of light. Rush stepped forward and pulled West to him, wordlessly undressing him. Each inch of skin was revealed slowly as Rush peeled West’s clothes from his body before tossing them to the side.

The colors were muted, but West stood out in the dimly lit room. Rush leaned forward, brushing his lips over West’s exposed skin, trying to memorize every piece of him. Each touch felt like a good-bye, and Rush didn’t want to let go. He used his body weight to guide West to the bed, urging him gently backward.

Dropping to his knees, he ran his hands along West’s sides, ghosting his fingertips across West’s pale skin. He tightened his grip on West’s hips and pressed a kiss to the hollow of the V below his abdomen. West’s stomach clenched at the featherlight brush of Rush’s lips against his skin, and his hands carded gently through Rush’s hair.

Rush leaned forward, taking West into his mouth, sliding slowly down, enveloping his shaft in the soft warmth of his mouth, and he was rewarded with the sound of West’s sharp intake of breath and the whimper that came after. Gripping the base of West’s cock, he sucked and licked, swirling his tongue around the head. He was careful to go slow, not wanting to build West up too much too fast. This had to last as long as he could make it. All night if he could. Forever would be better.

He worked with tender determination, giving as much pleasure as he could. West’s hips began to move in concert with Rush’s mouth, and the desperate, needy sounds that filled the room let Rush know he was getting closer. He slowed the pace even more, concentrating on not breaking rhythm as he reached over and opened the bottle of lube he kept beside the bed. Pouring some onto his fingers, he made sure they were slick before he slid one finger inside West, pleased to hear West’s breathless groan as he was filled.

Rush moved with care, his hands mimicking his mouth as he lovingly prepared West. One finger became two, and West was melting in front of him. Nonsense words floated from his mouth as Rush took him deep into the back of his throat, the tip of West’s erection nudging against the softness there.

“Close,” West muttered, his fingers tightening in Rush’s hair.

Rush pulled off and climbed onto the bed, pinning West in place as he kissed him. West bowed up beneath him, his back arching off the bed. Rush could feel West’s hands gripping his ass, pulling his hips against him. He ground the hardness of his cock against West’s, husking a breath at the feeling.

He couldn’t wait much longer. He needed to be buried inside West. He looked up, locking eyes with him, and West nodded before pulling Rush back down into a kiss. Rush reached between them and poised the tip of his cock against West’s entrance, then pushed forward just a little, stopping as he breached the tight ring of muscle. He pulled out slightly, then pushed in farther, stopping each time to give West a chance to adjust to his thickness.

And then he moved. He thrust forward, driving himself into West’s body. They needed and they took, their hips and mouths moving together as Rush set up an even rhythm, touching and tasting as he moved. The rest of the world melted away, and all that was left was the two of them, connected, bodies locked together. Rush couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe. All he could do was feel.

West brought his hands around Rush’s shoulders, holding Rush to him. Rush’s head fell forward, their foreheads touching, their gazes locked. He wanted—needed—to be deeper inside him. He picked up the pace, pushing them harder, higher, toward release.

West was breathing hard, straining as Rush wrapped one hand around his cock, jacking him in time to the rhythm of his thrusts, and a moment later, West came apart beneath him, jets of come spilling over his fist. Rush followed him over, his rhythm faltering as he thrust deep, coming hard inside West’s body.

Rush collapsed forward, careful not to crush West beneath him as he clung. He made a move to pull out, but West held him in place.

“Not yet,” he whispered.

Rush pressed a kiss against West’s sweat-matted hair and settled back into place. Tightening his arms around him, he held on, not willing to let go, despite the mess cooling on their skin.

Fatigue began to set in at the edges of his mind, but he didn’t want to sleep. He knew there was nothing he could do to delay the morning and everything that came with it, but for now he could hold on and pretend West was staying.

“CAN I
get you anything to drink?” The flight attendant was making her way through in preparation for takeoff.

West shook his head. “No, thank you,” he said.

West tried his hardest not to think about his good-bye with Rush.

There wasn’t enough time in the world for him to say good-bye. He couldn’t seem to force the words out of his mouth, so instead he promised he would call as soon as he landed. Rush kissed him one last time, and West held back the tears as he climbed into the car and drove away.

Now, with a hundred miles between them, his heart didn’t ache any less. He reminded himself over and over that with his means and modern travel, it wouldn’t be the last time he saw Rush. He’d left his things there: his car, his clothes, a tangible promise that he was coming back. They could talk on the phone or Skype, but even then he knew it wouldn’t be enough. He felt as though he was leaving a piece of himself behind in California, and he didn’t know if he would ever be able to find it again.

West tried to put thoughts of Lennox Hill from his mind. He picked up the phone from the console next to his plush leather seat. He dialed the number for his office and waited for Scarlet to answer.

“I’m on board, on my way now. So how bad is it?” West asked, hoping talking work would take his mind off missing Rush.

“Bad. Helena put forth a valiant effort, but it’s not just investments and daily operations she’s dealing with. Suddenly there are a thousand fires to put out, and she can’t do it alone. Client confidence has taken a hit because of Alex’s actions.”

He needed to get back to the office. The situation would need to be handled delicately. But when this was all over and Alex was blackballed from ever working in the industry again, West didn’t intend to return to the same work schedule he had maintained before his trip to California. Working sixteen-hour days, six days a week was going to push him into an early grave. He didn’t want that life anymore, and bringing Helena in as a partner would go a long way to freeing up some of his time—time he intended to spend with Rush.

When he returned to the office, he didn’t want it to seem like he was swooping in to rescue the company. If he was going to name Helena his partner, he needed to present a strong front with her and allay any concerns about his mental state while ensuring the clients were taking her seriously on her own.

“Can you please schedule a meeting with Helena for tomorrow morning, first thing? I want to meet with her and hear her thoughts before I step back into the business and crush Alex like the little cockroach he is.”

“I think that’s a fantastic idea. Consider it done.”

West could hear Scarlet tapping on her keyboard, and West reclined against his seat. The closer he flew to Chicago, the more furiously his mind worked, plans clicking into place. There was a lot to do.

ONCE THE
plane was safely on the ground, West met up with Marshall, whom Scarlet had arranged to pick him up from the airport. As soon as he closed the car door behind him, West pulled his cell phone out and dialed Rush’s number. It rang twice before he picked up.

“How was your flight?” he asked without preamble.

“Shitty. I’ve been spoiled. I’m used to flying with my private helicopter pilot.”

“Don’t lie. You were used to that before you met me. Private planes and helicopters are a daily occurrence for you.”

“Not daily. Monthly, maybe.”

Rush laughed, and the sound made West feel more homesick than ever.

“I’d say I wish I could help you take down Alex, but I really don’t. It’s bad enough I’ve got a winery and a farm to run now, all by my lonesome,” Rush said with fake helplessness in his voice.

“You’ll be fine on your own for a bit. We both know you were already doing the majority of the work when I was there.”

“That’s true, but at least there were perks.”

“Oh yeah?” West asked. “Perks?”

“Uh-huh. Naked perks. Goddamn, I’m going to miss those perks.”

“I’ll be back before you know it,” West promised.

“When?”

Rush sounded eager, and it made West smile. He was glad the feelings weren’t one-sided.

“Two weeks. Let me get everything under control with Helena, and then I’ll fly out for the weekend.”

“Just the weekend?”

“It’s all I can promise right now, at least until I see the state the business is in tomorrow. I’ll have a better idea then.”

“Call me when you get home, and we’ll work on plans to get you back here.”

“Sounds perfect,” West said. And it did. He was itching to get back already, and he hadn’t been in Chicago even three hours yet.

IT WAS
nearing two in the morning, and West hadn’t made a dent in his e-mails. He was kicking himself for having left it so long. He did his best to delete the unimportant ones first, filtering through to e-mails from Scarlet and Helena for direction on things that needed to be addressed urgently. As he read through note after note, it became clear things were in worse shape than he thought. As much as he cherished his time in California, perhaps leaving the company without any planning whatsoever hadn’t been the best idea.

He couldn’t bring himself to regret it, though.

As the clock clicked over to three, he finally gave up, closing his laptop and hiding away the rest of the chaos until morning. He got ready for bed and climbed in, ignoring how desolate his home felt, with the stark walls and echoing rooms. The space was expansive but oppressive.

He closed his eyes and imagined what Rush was doing at that moment—likely snoring, fast asleep with his eyelashes fanned across his cheeks, his breathing deep and even, and one leg thrown over the covers. He hadn’t realized how accustomed he’d become to falling asleep to the familiar sounds Rush made when sleeping. He missed them now, the silence in his bedroom dispiriting. West forced himself to think about work and ignore the heaviness in his chest until he finally drifted off to sleep.

THE OFFICE
was deserted when West arrived the next morning. The sun was starting to peek over the horizon, but he needed to get a jump start on his day. His nerves were slightly frayed as he sat down at the desk where he spent so much of his time. Something felt wrong—off—as though he were trespassing in someone else’s space. Helena was due for their meeting in a few minutes, and he had an agent from the fraud department of his bank who would be joining them later. He wanted to be prepared. Guilt picked at the edges of his mind when he thought about everything he had dumped in Helena’s lap. It hadn’t been fair to leave her with all his responsibilities without so much as a briefing.

He started up his laptop and checked his voice mail messages. Surprisingly, there were none. Scarlet really deserved a raise. When he was sure everything was set, he stood, walked to the staff room, and prepared two lattés for Helena and himself with practiced ease. He found the act comforted him, as if taking a piece of his life from California and transplanting it into Chicago grounded him and reminded him who he was.

He carried the two coffees back into his office and set them down. He didn’t need to wait long before Helena walked in, carrying an air of confidence and sophistication. She smiled when she saw him and sat down wordlessly in the chair across from his desk, then crossed one leg over the other and settled back into the seat.