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ReWined: The Complete Series by Kim Karr (60)

Paris

I PROPPED MY feet up against the wall and hung my head off the side of the mattress.

My spirit was high and I felt lighter than I had in such a very long time. I was making a difference. I mattered.

We were making a difference.

We mattered.

We.

It had been a long week but a very fruitful one at that. The legal baton had been passed, so to say. I was now CEO of a completely bankrupt Highway 128.

Yeah, me.

But it was mine.

On a better note, the new wine blends had been decided on. They would be a mix of everything CJ was known for and include Highway 128 grapes.

It was the perfect merger. Our two wineries were becoming one more seamlessly than imagined, and the rebirth of Highway Jane was on the horizon.

In fact, the free-run wines were almost ready to bottle and the supplies had been ordered.

And then there were the CJ and Highway 128 vineyards, of which both had been pruned and framed, and were ready for spring to arrive.

I was excited and anxious, too.

Letting out a sigh, I stared at the clock. It was only five, and I had three hours to wait before the auction.

Before seeing him again.

This time, though, I sighed in frustration. Even after a cold shower, I still felt the warmth of Tyler all over me. The way he’d picked me up and swung me around when we’d gone to Mr. Perkins earlier today and retrieved not only the surveys, but the most perfect bottle of Highway Jane Chardonnay.

The label featured a pickup truck overlaid on top of the silhouette of a woman, of whom I imagined was Jane Holiday. The print was simple. It was black and white but the woman’s lips were red.

We both kind of fell in love with the concept and had decided to run with it. An entirely new launch would be in the works starting Monday.

It was exciting.

Being so close to him was exciting.

I was so turned on that my breasts felt heavy against the fabric of my tank top. I brought my head up to the mattress and pulled it up. Then I cupped them. Stroking each, I passed a palm over my nipples before pinching them both between forefinger and thumb.

A moan escaped my throat when they tightened under my touch. I tugged harder and felt a throb in my clit. Moving the taut flesh back and forth, I played with my nipples and couldn’t stop thinking of the way he used to play with them. The way he’d jerk them and make me cry out in pleasure.

My legs fell open at the very thought and my clit was begging for some attention. Still tugging on one nipple, I slid my hand right into my yoga pants and between my thighs. My clit was already swollen, tight, ready for my touch.

I bit my lip and played with my clit in the same way I did with my nipple. Pleasure and pain lapped at my skin.

My shoulder blades pressed against the mattress as I pushed my hips against my fingers, and then slid them inside me.

It felt good but it wasn’t enough. I wanted him and his thick, hard cock fucking me.

Still, I gave in to the pleasure, and as I came, I knew I missed him. That I wanted him.

Why did life have to be so hard?

I blinked out of my lustful haze and glanced at my sister’s diary on my bedside table. After reading it in its entirety and discovering the imperfections of my family, perhaps I was starting to see life more clearly.

Or in a more confused context.

I wasn’t even sure anymore.

I closed my eyes but then my phone rang. I glanced over at the screen to see Darcy’s name light up. She had never called me. “Hello?” I answered.

“Hi, Paris, it’s Darcy. I hope I’m not bothering you.”

I pulled my shirt back into place and righted my yoga pants. “No, not at all. What’s going on?” I asked, trying to even out my breathing.

“I wanted to call and talk to you about Tyler without meddling ears anywhere around.”

I grinned. She meant without Tabitha. “I’m listening,” I said cautiously.

“I ran into Tyler at the hardware store today and we went for coffee.”

“You did?” I shouldn’t have sounded surprised, but I was. When he said he had some things to take care of today, I thought he meant work. Not that it mattered.

“Yes, I’m trying to finish my niece’s dollhouse and apparently the hardware store is the place.”

I laughed.

She cleared her throat. “Well, anyway, I just felt I had to tell you, I really think he has changed so much since high school and I’m not sure you see what all of us see.”

I bit my lip. “I see a grown-up man who likes to party as hard as he likes to work.”

“Liked, not likes,” she clarified.

“Perhaps,” I replied.

“He told me about his parents.”

“He did?” I don’t know why I was surprised to hear this.

“Yes, he did. And I have to say, I think all-in-all he took the news pretty well.”

“Is that your medical opinion?” I quipped, trying not to sound snarky but very aware I was coming across that way.

“Honestly, yes. I see a lot of messed up people every day, and Tyler isn’t one of them. He’s hardworking, caring, and most importantly, he loves you.”

My heart pitter-pattered. “Did he tell you that?”

“No, but he told me he told you that. And that he feels really bad it came out at the wrong time.”

Glancing at the ceiling, I pondered all of this. Had I been seeing what I wanted to see in order to push him away? Was it my own reluctance to trust and my fear that was driving me to push him away?

“Don’t be mad, but I’m just going to ask this. Is it him disappointing you you’re afraid of, or you disappointing him?”

I tugged on my bottom lip with my teeth and swallowed a rush of emotion. “To be honest, I don’t even know anymore,” I sighed.

“Everyone makes mistakes, and it’s okay as long as they learn from them.”

“Yes, I know that.”

“Nobody’s perfect, Paris, but maybe Tyler Holiday could be your version of it, if you’re willing to give him that chance.”

Willing.

Was I?

This week had made me believe maybe I was.

“I appreciate the call,” I told her.

“Of course. I just wanted you to know. I’ll see you tonight. Right?”

“Yes, I’ll be there.”

“And consider what I said. Okay?”

“I will. Thank you, Darcy,” I told her and disconnected.

Tossing the phone aside, I closed my eyes.

I had a lot to think about.

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