CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Taylor couldn’t believe they were about to stomp grapes. Only Justin could have gotten her out here, with her jeans rolled up to her knees and her feet bare.
They were standing together, her back to his front, his arms wrapped around her waist, as they waited their turn. Ten teams had signed up for the competition. Although there would be several small prizes given out to the groups that squeezed the most juice out of the grapes with their feet, it was obvious that this wasn’t really a competition, but rather a chance for the community to come together to celebrate the vineyards and the wines for which St. Helena was world famous. Several people Taylor had met during the past months had already come by to say hello.
Today, she didn’t hesitate to let everyone know that Justin was her boyfriend. And not just because he’d told her that he was planning to set up a lab nearby so that he could stay with her in St. Helena. The miles between California and Germany had never truly been the issue. They could have weathered that if they had to. Perhaps someone on the outside looking in would think that their relationship had moved really fast in the past forty-eight hours—from making love to declaring their feelings to making big career and location changes. But they’d had eight years to build to where they were now.
Eight years of longing. Eight years of secret loving.
She might be confused and conflicted about plenty of other things in her life, but her feelings for Justin were perfectly, beautifully clear.
Laughter and hilarity rang out while the first couple made an absolute mess of their barrel of grapes. Resting her head against Justin’s chest, she let herself relax for the first time all day. The song “Stomp Them Grapes” was playing on repeat, while a couple of large-screen TVs had been set up showing the I Love Lucy episode where Lucille Ball made stomping grapes look like the funniest thing in the world.
Taylor laughed as she watched Lucille Ball go totally crazy in the grape vat—one of the teams competing was actually dressed up as Lucy and the grape stomper—and it felt good to feel “normal” for a little while. The morning’s coolness had given way to a wonderfully warm afternoon, and Taylor loved being able to bask in the sun as she closed her eyes and turned her face toward the sky.
It would be all too easy to let herself dwell on bad lab reports and blood work, to forget about fun while she spent all of her time weighing difficult decisions. Justin was right. Not only did they need a break from the heaviness of it all, but being here today as a part of her new community served as yet another reminder about the good decisions she had already made to quit her office job in Palo Alto and move to St. Helena.
“They’ve just called our team name,” Justin said, his breath at her ear sending a delicious shiver through her despite the warmth of the sun. “Are you ready for Team Super Stomp to dominate?”
She spun into his arms, laughing at the team name he’d come up with as she kissed him. “I love you.” She never wanted him to forget it, didn’t want him to think that her reticence to accept his offer to be her donor meant she didn’t care for him more deeply than she did anyone else. “No matter what.”
He gazed into her eyes, making her feel as though they were the only people for miles, even in the middle of a big crowd. “No matter what.”
Hand in hand, they walked over to their barrel, which had already been loaded up with dark purple grapes. “Your goal today,” the volunteer in charge reminded them, “is to extract the most juice out of measured amounts of wine grapes. I’m assuming you will be the stomper?” he said to Taylor, making his guess based on her rolled-up jeans and bare feet. “Please step into the foot wash.” Turning to Justin, he said, “Your job as the swabber will be to stand outside the barrel and catch the juice in this bucket. Don’t hesitate to reach inside the barrel to assist your stomper to ensure a free flow of juice through the screen and out the drain spout. Got it?”
Justin nodded, the beauty of his grin making Taylor’s heart flip inside her chest.
She’d been a fool not to tell him about her diagnosis months ago when she’d first found out. And she’d been an even bigger fool to let their friendship slide away after he left Stanford for Germany. She’d never make a mistake like that again. No matter what happened from here on out, she would never take Justin’s friendship, or his love, for granted again.
What they had, she now understood, was the most rare and precious thing in the world. Something to fight for, against all odds.
“Stomper,” the volunteer said to her, “please take your position inside the barrel.”
Justin held on to her hands as she carefully made her way up the stairs and onto the mound of grapes. “It feels so weird,” she said, wrinkling her nose at the strange feel of the fruit already popping apart beneath her feet. She took a step and realized how slippery it was.
“Your hands go here.” Justin placed them on the side rim of the barrel so that she was leaning over slightly at the waist in his direction. “As long as you keep holding on, you should be steady. But don’t worry, I won’t let you fall.”
“I know you won’t,” she said, then bent down a little farther so that they could kiss.
The volunteer held up a stopwatch. “Five-second countdown. Five, four, three, two, start stomping!”
Justin’s kiss had sent so much happiness shooting through her, that the second she was let loose in the barrel, she became a wild stomping machine. Grape skins and dark purple juice flew in every direction, most of it up onto her jeans and T-shirt and the bare skin of her arms, legs, and face—but also onto Justin, who wasn’t at all spared by standing outside the barrel, holding the bucket under the drain spout and cheering her on.
“No one can stomp grapes the way you can, Taylor!” he yelled. “You’re amazing! You’re unstoppable! You’re a Super Stomper!”
Though she was majorly out of breath, she couldn’t stop laughing. Stomping grapes was one of the grossest—and most fun—things she had done in a very long time. Grape juice was flowing from the barrel into Justin’s bucket with such speed that he barely had time to put it down and pick up another one before it overflowed. The crowd had gathered around them, and soon, Justin was leading the group in a rousing chorus of “Super Stompers! Super Stompers! Super Stompers!”
She had nearly run out of steam when the stopwatch dinged again. Still laughing, Justin pulled her out of the barrel and swung her around. He kissed her until she was even more breathless, and when he finally let her go, she stumbled slightly, directly into the path of their two full buckets of grape juice.
Both buckets knocked into one another, then bumped out in the opposite direction, toppling over before anyone could stop them.
“Oh no.” She looked at Justin with wide eyes. “I actually thought we might have a chance of winning.”
“It’s okay.” He hugged her tighter. “We’ve already won the biggest prize of all, don’t you think?”
He was right. Even when they’d been only friends back in college, she’d already felt like she’d won the lottery. Who else had a best friend so smart and funny and sweet and caring? And now, with love on their side, surely they could triumph over even the most difficult problems. Couldn’t they?
“Thank you for bringing me here today.” She held his face in her hands, even more mesmerized by him than she had been the first time she’d set eyes on him. “It was exactly what I needed.” Her side was aching a little bit after all the exertion, but it was nothing compared to the pain she’d felt when she collapsed on the stairs. “You’re exactly what I need.”
No question about it—she had already won the biggest prize of all.
* * *
“I had the best time today!” Maddie greeted them at the door with a tray of brownies that smelled so good Taylor’s mouth instantly began to water. She’d never been a huge one for sweets, but she couldn’t resist taking a brownie as she said profuse thanks to Justin’s sister for stepping in to run her B&B while they were out. Still warm from the oven, the brownie melted on her tongue.
“You’re a magician in the kitchen,” Taylor said to Maddie. Moaned it, actually. “I’ve been making cookies—”
“Great cookies,” Justin chimed in.
“—but my baked goods are nothing compared to this.” An idea came to her. “I know how busy you are already, but if there was any chance that you would consider baking for me every now and again, that would be amazing.”
“I’d love to!” Maddie looked even happier now. “How much would you need? How often? And would you just want brownies or cookies and scones and cakes? I could make madeleines and macarons, if you want more of a French flavor.”
“I want all of it,” Taylor said, loving Maddie’s enthusiasm. “How about once a week to start? Then more if I manage to get my idea for an afternoon tea off the ground in a few months.” She was still on too much of a high from their grape-stomping adventure to let in dark thoughts about what her health might be like in a few months—and what impact that might have on her business. “And I’ll bet once some of the locals taste your treats, the stores around here will want some too.”
“Why did you ever leave her and go to Germany?” Maddie asked Justin, with an elbow to his gut.
“Because I was an idiot,” he said.
“We both were.” Taylor put her hand into Justin’s in case his sister didn’t already know that they were together now.
Of course, word traveled fast in the Morrison family, and Maddie’s eyes were twinkling as she said, “Drew told me the good news. You two are perfect together. I’m so happy for you.”
“Thanks, I’m really happy too.” Taylor knew she was beaming, especially when Justin gave her a kiss in front of his sister. “If you two don’t mind holding the fort for a few more minutes, I’ll go wash off and get changed.”
She was pretty sure the grape stains on her skin weren’t going to scrub off completely any time soon, but that was okay. She liked looking down and remembering how fun it had been to stomp grapes with Justin today. For a little while at least, she’d felt free and normal, like there was nothing wrong with her whatsoever.
* * *
“Drew told me about Taylor’s diagnosis,” Maddie said once Taylor had gone out to her cottage. “I looked up some stuff online, but you know I’ve never had much of a science brain, so I was having a hard time wrapping my head around it. In plain English, how bad is it?”
Justin appreciated Maddie waiting to ask her questions until Taylor had left. It wasn’t that he intended to keep this conversation from her—it was more that he didn’t want anything to bring her down. It had been so good to see her laugh and relax and let go of her worries for a couple of hours. He still hoped that she would come with him to meet the local donor tomorrow and hear what the woman had to say, but until then, he planned to do whatever he could to keep Taylor’s mind off it.
In clear and simple terms, he explained Taylor’s diagnosis. Unfortunately, the more he told Maddie, the more his sister’s face fell. “But she’ll be okay, won’t she? If you give her your kidney?”
“First, I have to be a match.”
“You will be.” Maddie looked just as determined as he felt.
“When I am,” he said with a small smile, “kidney transplants can work really well.”
“All the time?”
“Most of the time.”
“And when a transplant doesn’t work well?”
He shook his head, unable to let himself go there. He was a scientist, but that didn’t mean he believed in trusting only lab results. He’d read enough studies over the years to understand that science alone couldn’t account for one hundred percent of healing. Hope, faith, and love were also extremely important.
“I love her, Maddie. I’ll do anything for her. I won’t let anything happen to her.”
His sister didn’t ask any more questions, just put her arms around him and held on tight. It wasn’t the first time they’d held each other this way—they’d needed each other just as much six years before, when their mother had gotten sick, then passed away.
“Make sure she knows we’re all here for her, okay?”
For a few moments, he didn’t think he could trust his voice. “Thanks again for stepping in today. You’ve already helped more than you know. Not just so that we could do the blood tests and meet with the doctors, but because she needed an afternoon in the sunshine most of all.”
Maddie gripped his hands and squeezed them, before getting up. “I should probably go before Taylor comes back. Otherwise, I’ll start crying and ruin the fun grape-stomping vibe you guys had going on.” She went into the kitchen for her bag, then came out and gave Justin another hug. “Tell her to call me anytime. For any reason. And let her know that I love her. We all do.”
After walking his sister out to her car, Justin went upstairs to change his grape-stained clothes before Taylor’s guests came back from sightseeing and wine tasting to partake of afternoon tea and brownies.
By the time Taylor returned from her cottage and brought in the tea, the parlor was full of happy, slightly sunburned tourists—adults and children alike stuffing themselves full of Maddie’s brownies. Taylor put her arm around him.
“You’re a natural with my guests. Especially,” she said as she looked down at his fresh pair of jeans, already smudged with chocolate from where he’d been playing Lego with the kids in the corner, “with the littlest ones.”
Another vision hit him, clear and vibrant, of Taylor pregnant and glowing with a child of their own. The first of many—he wanted their kids to grow up in the kind of loud, boisterous family that he’d so loved being a part of.
But he knew better than to say anything about his vision. Not because he was afraid she wouldn’t feel the same way, but because he didn’t want his dreams for their future to send her spiraling into worries about whether they could ever come to pass.
He knew they would.
Faith, hope, love—he would hold on to those, and to her, no matter what.
* * *
The Belmonts invited Taylor and Justin to dinner for their last evening in town, and they had a great meal at a Thai restaurant just up the valley in Calistoga. He loved having her all to himself, but he also loved watching her captivate everyone around her the way she’d always captivated him.
After they returned and said good night to her guests, they walked back through the moonlight to her cottage, arm in arm.
“I know it’s really hard to pull up roots and put them somewhere new,” she said, “but I really hope Katie and Brent and their kids end up deciding to move here.”
“I’d be pretty surprised if they don’t.” Though he’d been with Taylor in St. Helena for only three nights, it already felt like coming home. He could have lived happily with her anywhere—in a desert or a jungle or smack-dab in the middle of suburbia—but there was something special about Napa Valley. Not only because of its picturesque vineyards and wineries, but also because after only a few days, he had seen firsthand how supportive and welcoming the community was. St. Helena was the perfect town to raise a family in, to watch kids’ soccer games on weekend mornings, then play in the pool all afternoon. “This place is pretty hard to resist.”
“Are you sure?” She stopped just inside her front door to face him. “Are you really ready to give up your life in Frankfurt and move here? I would never expect you to do that, especially this quickly. No one would.”
“I’ve never been more sure.” But this wasn’t just about him, so he had to ask, even if the answer might not be the one he wanted to hear. “What about you? Earlier today, you said I was moving too fast.” He stroked her cheek, needing to touch her. “Do you want me to move here? Do you want me with you? Or do you need some space, some time?”
“Of course I want you here with me,” she said, sending a massive rush of relief coursing through him. “But what if you resent me one day for asking you to drop everything in your life and turn on a dime?”
“The only thing I’d resent is getting on an airplane on Monday to fly five thousand miles from the woman I love. I don’t want to tell you I love you over Skype. I want to hold you in my arms when I say it.” He was glad to see a small smile appear on her lips as he lowered his mouth to hers. When he was barely a breath away, he said, “I love you.”
Their kiss was full of passion—and so much love it humbled him.
“You haven’t gotten the grape juice off,” she said as she ran her tongue over his collarbone. “Why don’t I help you with that?”
Without waiting for his reply, she began stripping away his clothes, pulling his T-shirt over his head, then unzipping and shoving his jeans to the floor. Utterly mesmerized by her, before he knew it, she had her own clothes off and then was taking his hand in hers to lead him into the shower.
She turned the water on, then sat him down on the tiled seat at the far end. The warm spray rushed over her skin, rivulets of water streaming over her breasts and stomach as she picked up the soap and lathered up her hands.
Gently, with her palms moving across his skin, she ran soap bubbles over him. First over his face and neck, then down his shoulders and arms. Lifting his hands, she placed them on her stomach as she re-lathered with the soap, then worked on rubbing each finger with the bubbles, one at a time, to wash away the last traces of grape juice.
He loved the care she took with him. He could feel more than desire in her touch—he could feel her love for him in every stroke, every caress, as she made her way down his chest, his stomach muscles jumping beneath the light brush of her fingertips. By the time she started running her hands over his thighs, he didn’t think he could handle much more. If she kept touching him like this, he was going to lose it long before he got a chance to reciprocate by lathering up her skin the same way.
“It’s your turn now,” he said, but when he got up to change places with her, she put her hand on his chest and gently pushed him back.
“It is my turn,” she agreed, “but I don’t need you to clean me up right now. I need you to fill me up.”
He groaned at her deliciously filthy words as she reached for one of the condoms that they’d decided to keep stashed in the shower.
Slowly, perfectly, she lowered herself over him, and even as pleasure shot higher and higher, taking them both over the edge together, relief was there too.
Relief that after all these years, her heart was his—and his was hers.
Relief that she had allowed him to take her to the transplant center for the tests and was considering letting him help her.
Relief that she seemed so vibrant and healthy today, despite everything he’d read on her doctors’ reports.
Making love with Taylor—and holding her close—was exactly what he needed tonight. All day he’d wanted to be strong for her. He’d wanted to make sure she laughed, rather than cried. He’d wanted her to focus on hopes rather than fears.
But the truth was that by this time of night, pretending he wasn’t scared took a hell of a toll on him.
Burying his face against her chest, he let water from the shower cover the tears he suddenly couldn’t hold back. And all the while, Taylor held him just as tightly.
Knowing it would be the very best way to build up their reserves of strength, after drying each other off with plush white towels, they slid together beneath the covers and kept on holding each other tight until morning.