“You forgive me? Just like that? No explanation?”
“I haven’t known you long, but I know you’re a good man, and I know you must have had good reason. So yeah, all is forgiven.”
Rush swallowed hard. He was floored by West’s reasoning. It should have made him feel good, hearing West thought so much of him, but it made him feel like shit. He was such an asshole.
“I should have given you the benefit of the doubt,” Rush said.
“I’m sure you had your reasons.”
“I did. But they weren’t necessarily good reasons. I guess I’ve had bad experiences with people with money. Or rather one really terrible person with money.”
West was quiet, as though giving Rush the time he needed to formulate his thoughts into a cohesive story. It wasn’t an easy one to tell, and Rush was grateful for West’s patience.
“His name was David Montgomery, and his family had more money than they knew what to do with. I met him my first year in college. He was one of my group members in my poli-sci class, and I knew he was a tool from the first moment I met him. He was rich, and he wanted everyone to know it. He bought all the group members presents to make up for the fact he didn’t do a goddamn thing in that class, and yet he was always the one with the highest marks. I found out later his family donated a significant amount of money to get him into the program in the first place.
“After graduation, we both went on to join the Marines, went through the aviation selection test battery, and ended up in officer training school together.”
“Did his family pay his way through that too?”
“I don’t have any proof, but I’ve always had my suspicions. It wouldn’t have been easy, but his family had more connections than anyone I’ve ever met. He didn’t have the drive and the passion to be a good Marine. He wanted the prestige of a high rank without doing the work to get there. He was in it for glory and titles and as a way to inflate his ego even more.
“After we finished our flight school, we ended up in different units. The guy didn’t know jack shit, but for some reason ended up at the top of the class. In my opinion, he wasn’t fit to be a pilot at all. Unfortunately, the people who matter didn’t see it or didn’t care, and he was assigned to a CAS unit during our deployment in Iraq.”
“CAS?”
“Close Air Support. Basically, it means they’re the backup for the Marines on the ground. Even though we were pilots, we were Marines first. Marines first and pilots second. It was his job to keep them safe.”
“He didn’t, did he?”
West’s voice was quiet. He’d already figured out what Rush was going to say. Rush shook his head.
“No. There was an attack, and half the unit didn’t make it out. If David had done his job right… I gave up on the what-ifs a long time ago.”
“I know every life is precious, but I have to ask… was there someone important to you who didn’t make it back?”
Rush took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He hadn’t planned on telling West about Chase. Not yet. If they were still together a few months down the line, maybe, but the man was too perceptive for his own good. “There was a guy… Chase. We went through college together, joined up together. He was on the ground, and I was in the air, but we spent all our off time together. He grew up in Redding, so we had a lot in common….”
“And he died?”
Rush nodded. “He was one of the Marines who didn’t make it through the attack.”
West tightened his grip on Rush. “I’m really sorry. I can’t imagine….”
“It’s okay. It was a long time ago. I’ve done my grieving. I’ll never forget him, but I’ve dealt with the loss.”
“Is that why you left the military?”
“Probably part of the reason. I completed one more tour before I left. I was done with that life. I miss him. I always will, but Chase wasn’t the only reason I retired.”
“What ever happened to David?”
“He was court-martialed and dishonorably discharged. I don’t know what became of him after that.”
“It doesn’t seem like enough.”
“No, but for him, it was probably the worst thing that could have happened. It tarnished his reputation and that of his family as well. He wouldn’t have taken that lightly.”
“Still. He was responsible for lives lost.”
Rush nodded. He was suddenly exhausted, like he’d run the hundred miles to the coast rather than flying there. West kissed his temple and cuddled in close, seeming to understand what Rush needed. He was still reeling from the change the last couple of months brought. He never expected to fall in love with a billionaire who was simply passing through town.
THE NEXT
morning, both West and Rush slept in later than they had in years. Rush woke first, opening his eyes slowly to the brightness in the room. West still slept peacefully beside him, and although he had to pee, he chose to wait, not wanting to disrupt West’s sleep. He turned slowly to the side, gazing at the clock on the mantle of the fireplace. It was nearly eleven, but they didn’t have anything they had to do that day. There were no pressing obligations or responsibilities. They could stay in bed all day if they wanted to.
Rush felt West stir beside him.
“Good morning, handsome,” Rush said.
“Good morning,” West replied, a lazy smile breaking. “Did you sleep okay?”
“Better than I’ve slept in a long time.”
“I guess purging the past will have that effect,” West said.
“Maybe it does.” Rush did feel lighter that morning than he ever remembered feeling, although he attributed it to waking up next to the man he loved. He couldn’t say that, though. Despite the fact that his feelings had solidified in his mind, and he knew beyond a doubt he was head over heels, he didn’t want to say anything yet.
He didn’t know how long he’d wait, but things with them were up in the air. They never discussed what they were or where they saw this going, and in the back of Rush’s mind, he held tightly to the fact that West said himself Canyon Creek was not his forever home. He was going back to Chicago, and Rush didn’t want his feelings for West to influence his decision about where he wanted to be.
“What do you want to do today? Bird-watching? High tea? Canasta?” Rush teased.
West laughed. “While those all sound like attractive options, I was thinking maybe a day at the beach might be nice.”
“That sounds good to me.”
“But food first, I think. We never got around to having dinner last night, and while the sandwiches you bought from Annette’s Coffee Cottage were delicious, they weren’t enough to sustain me for a full forty-eight hours.”
“No shit,” Rush said. He could feel the hollowness of his stomach, and now that West mentioned it, he realized how hungry he was. “Okay, let’s get out of here and find something to eat. Preferably something with meat in it… or entirely comprised of meat would be even better.”
“So no vegan delights.”
“Fuck no. Not ever.” Rush was adamant about that. Vegan food had no place in his life. Or gluten free for that matter. He liked his gluten. And meat. Gluten and meat together was even better. Hmmm… he could really go for a steak sandwich. And maybe a loaded baked potato.
TWO HOURS
later, they checked out of the nightmare-inducing Gingerbread Inn, ate their fill of heavy meat- and butter-laden fare, and then made their way to a nearby beach to sit in the sun for a few hours and watch the waves.
It was peaceful and easy and everything Rush hoped for when he proposed the trip in the first place. The events that unfolded prior to that moment hadn’t gone exactly according to plan. When he suggested they get away for the weekend, he hadn’t anticipated both of them baring their souls and realization dawning on him that he’d gone and fallen in love with the one person he shouldn’t. But somehow, sitting in the sand with West, he couldn’t regret a moment of it.
They sat like that, side by side, their toes buried in the sand that was only a couple of degrees cooler than perfect, talking about absolutely nothing at all.
A few hours later, it was time to get back to Johnny’s. They hadn’t moved since they sat down, and Rush’s ass had fallen asleep. He stood, wobbling slightly on stiff legs and holding his hand out to help West up off the sand. He pulled him up and into his body, sliding his arm around West’s waist and eliminating any space between them as he leaned down to press a kiss to his temple.
“Thank you, Rush.”
“For what?”
“For all of this. Everything. Not just the last two days but the last two months. I wouldn’t be here without you. I’d likely be back in Chicago, and probably miserable.”
Rush could feel the words bubbling up inside him. Those three little words he hadn’t ever planned on, but he pushed them back down, locking them tightly away. A child screamed from somewhere down the beach, breaking the delicate spell. They both turned to look and saw a mother struggling with what appeared to be two toddlers who wanted anything other than to be leaving the beach at that moment.
“I feel that way too,” West said, “but we should probably get going.”
“Probably,” Rush agreed, “before Johnny files a missing persons report to get his car back.”
West laughed and turned toward the area where they parked. They dusted every last grain of sand from their bodies before climbing in. Rush turned on the radio, and they listened to Neil Diamond all the way back to Johnny’s.
THE NEXT
two months sped by, and before West realized, they were already well into summer. The vineyard took up most of their time. Rush spent most of his days there, helping West. He couldn’t believe how widely his horizons had expanded since the day he’d driven into town. When he purchased Lennox Hill, he hadn’t known much more than that he preferred reds over whites. Now, with a little guidance from Rush, he learned about cane positioning so the vines grew properly between the guide wires, and leaf thinning and hedging so sunlight could reach the spaces it needed to in order to produce the best harvest of grapes possible. It took a lot of time to complete the work, but it was worth it to see the vines growing and maturing the way they were.
It was honest work, and between the two of them, they kept on top of the tasks that needed completion at both Lennox Hill and Black Mountain. West enjoyed caring for the trees on Black Mountain too, but it wasn’t the same. In a way, he thought of them like teenagers—they weren’t fully grown yet, but they were self-sufficient, and for the most part, they needed little care to keep them alive.
Grapevines were like infants. They needed to be nurtured and guided, protected and supported. They were much more delicate and required some form of care nearly every day. But West was willing to put the time in to make sure they really blossomed. Of course he cared about whether or not Lennox Hill produced enough grapes to harvest for wine, and he cared that the wine was good—a bad batch could tarnish a winery’s reputation—but it went beyond the financial investment. This became something he was proud of. He learned this from the ground up, just as with venture capitalism, and although he’d taken over a company, he had as much pride for Lennox Hill as he had for Forge West.
His stomach flopped at the thought of his company. He hadn’t been back in months. Scarlet had been sending him daily e-mails, but apart from a quick scan, he left everything else to his associates. He knew he’d have to go back eventually, but the truth was, he still didn’t know what to do. It was his company, his employees, his investments, but when he thought about Chicago, it no longer felt like home.
He’d come to be happy in Canyon Creek, and the thought of leaving made West’s insides ache. He could put it off a little longer, he reasoned. Helena and Alex were more than capable of running the company in his absence, and things were going so well in California, he didn’t want to disrupt the delicate equilibrium.
Rush spent every night—and every day—with West since returning from Eureka. Nothing was discussed, but it became a kind of unspoken understanding they would spend the night either at West’s or Rush’s place, depending on what needed to be done in the morning. The more time he spent with Rush, the stronger he felt about him, and leaving him at this point was not an option. He knew eventually he’d need to make a move in one direction or the other, but he was afraid broaching the “where do you see this going” conversation might cause Rush to run in the opposite direction.
So for now, they maintained an easy routine together, and West had never been happier.
“WHAT DOES
everyone usually do around here for the Fourth?” West asked one afternoon. The holiday was only two days away, but West hadn’t even noticed the date on the calendar until that morning. The time he spent in Canyon Creek passed in a blink, and before West realized what happened, it was summer. They had spent all day culling leaves from the vines outside, and now they were sitting down to a glass of wine on Rush’s patio. Casper was curled at West’s feet as he sipped at the full-bodied Merlot.
“The Fourth is kind of a big deal around here. There’s a parade and a party on Main Street. Traffic is shut down for the day, and then everyone drives up to the lake to drink and watch the fireworks.”
“That sounds really nice, actually.”
“What do you usually do to celebrate?” Rush asked.
“When I was younger, the Fourth was a big deal for my grandfather, being in the Navy and all. He was one of the most patriotic men I’ve ever met. He used to take me into Chicago—we’d go to a huge picnic in one of the parks for lunch and then to watch the fireworks after the sun went down. Recently, though, I haven’t done anything. I was working, usually. Last year I managed to catch a few minutes of the fireworks over the lake during my drive home.”
Rush frowned. “Well, we’ll have to party extra hard to make up for you missing out all these years.”
“I have a feeling I’ve been missing out on more than Independence Day celebrations.”
“You have, but we’re going to fix that. The festivities around here literally begin at sunup. Make sure you get your beauty sleep, Princess, because it’s going to be an early morning.”