Tasting Notes (23 page)

“Well yeah, but—”

“And don’t you
own
a helicopter? A helicopter that is more than capable of making the flight to Chicago?”

“Yes, but—”

“So what are you doing here, suntanning in your miserable funk when you could be there, working things out? You need to decide what you’re willing to give up for him. The reason you met in the first place is because he broke his routine, uprooted his life, and ended up in your lap. You can’t expect that to happen twice. Do something, Rush. Don’t be stupid, or you’re going to lose him to your apathy.”

Rush was speechless. His mother had never been one to mince words, but she had laid everything out so clearly for him, he was grasping to find the words to thank her. She was right. He’d been waiting around for West to fix things, and he was more than capable of manning up and doing what needed to be done to be with the man he loved. It was too late to begin the trip now. Rush did the calculations in his head. Fourteen-hour flight, adding the time back to the base, plus the touchdowns along to way to refuel meant he wouldn’t be arriving until after zero dark thirty.

“I’m going to need a ride back to the base.”

His mother beamed. “Good boy.”

“I’m sorry I’m cutting the visit short, Mom. I’ll make it up to you.”

“Yes you will. You bring West here with you next time. I’ll make you both margaritas.”

Rush stood and pressed a kiss to his mother’s forehead. “Thank you. For everything.”

“Of course. You’re my son and I love you. Even when you’re being a complete idiot. Now go pack your stuff. Your father will drive you.”

Rush hurried off to throw his stuff in a bag.

IT TOOK
nearly eighteen hours for Rush to arrive at the offices of Forge West in Chicago. Although he arrived in Chicago slightly rumpled and without having slept, he had more energy than he felt in weeks. Walking through the lobby of the high-rise office building, he quickly located the directory and West’s offices. Taking the elevator up, he shoved his hands in his pockets, trying to still the fidgeting. He’d never been like this—always the picture of calm, cool, and collected, Rush had long forgotten how he felt the first time he flew a chopper. As the doors opened, a soft ding alerting him he had arrived, he was reminded of the quick rush of adrenaline he experienced that first day in the air.

Excitement and anticipation rocked him as he walked into the office and stopped short at the front reception desk.

“Good afternoon; do you have an appointment?” the woman behind the counter asked. She was young and perky, her hair swept into something he could picture on a woman from the 1950s. Although she looked nothing like her, she reminded Rush vaguely of Rosie. They had the same feminine gumption.

“No, no appointment. I was hoping to catch West.”

“Mr. Weston’s day, unfortunately, is quite full. If you’d like, I can schedule an appointment for you for another day.” She consulted her computer. “You’re in luck. He had a cancellation the first week of December. Shall I put your name in?”

Rush was taken aback. He hadn’t anticipated being told to wait to see West. “No, thank you,” he said as politely as he could, trying to mask his disappointment. It wasn’t ideal, but he could wait. West had to finish work eventually. Rush would wait for him until he came down. He glanced at his watch. It was a little after four. He knew West worked long hours, but he had nowhere to be.

“I’m a friend of his,” Rush said. “Would it be all right if I waited here for him until he finishes for the day?”

The receptionist looked uncertain, as though Rush might be some sort of psycho stalker there to take West out in some sort of homicidal rampage. To her credit, Rush did look a little sketchy. The thick beard and wrinkled clothes had a certain murderous look to them. If he’d been carrying an axe, even he might be a little frightened.

“Um… I’m new. Let me check, okay?” she asked.

“Sure, no problem,” Rush replied.

She picked up the phone and pressed two buttons. Rush waited patiently as she spoke.

“Hi, yeah, it’s Emily. There’s a gentleman here who says he’s a friend of Mr. Weston’s. He doesn’t have an appointment… no… but he’s asking if it’s all right if he stays in the waiting area until he’s finished for the day…. Yes, I know he works late…. No, I didn’t. Hang on.”

She covered the phone with one hand. “I’m sorry. I forgot to get your name.”

“Rush.”

The look was back, as though he might be some lunatic who wandered in off the street, but she removed her hand and relayed the information to the person on the other end. A look of surprise passed over her face before she returned the phone to the cradle, then stood.

“Mr. Rush, please follow me, right this way.”

Rush followed her through a wide glass door beside her desk. It led to an open area with large offices and conference rooms along one wall. She paused in front of the last door before opening it and ushering Rush through. There was a sizeable desk made of glass and chrome, and behind it sat a woman Rush hadn’t met before. She was meticulously dressed, and not a hair out of place, but her eyes were warm. Rush could only assume this was Scarlet.

“Rush, I’m so glad you’re here! Welcome,” Scarlet said, standing and walking over to him. It took a moment for Rush to react when she hugged him, his body going stiff as she wrapped her arms around him. He hadn’t realized they were on such friendly terms, but he hugged her back.

“Thanks, Emily, you can go.”

When the receptionist left, Scarlet turned back to him. “Sorry about her. She’s new… and not the best help we’ve had, unfortunately. I’m so glad you’re here. He’s on a conference call at the moment, but he shouldn’t be too long. Give me a minute and I’ll reschedule the last bit of his day.”

“Oh, that’s really not necessary,” Rush said. “I don’t want to disrupt him. I’m not going anywhere. I don’t mind waiting.”

She shot him a look that said “You’re a fucking idiot” and dialed the phone. A few minutes later she hung up and turned her attention back to Rush. “The rest of his afternoon just cleared up. He’s going to be so happy to see you. He’s been a miserable grouch since he got back.”

Rush couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face. He didn’t like that West was upset, but knowing he was as affected by their separation made Rush feel even more positive he made the right decision in coming.

WEST HUNG
up the phone and collapsed back into his seat, breathing a deep sigh. The conference call that was supposed to take fifteen minutes, tops, spanned nearly an hour. He took one more steeling breath, then picked up the phone to buzz Scarlet. He knew it was going to be yet another late night, his exasperation amplified by the lack of sleep from the night before.

The dejection in Rush’s voice haunted him as he lay in bed, willing sleep to come. He couldn’t get the sound of his disappointment out of his head. It was well after two before he finally passed out. West wanted desperately to pull a repeat performance and leave town without so much as a good-bye. Considering it momentarily, he dismissed the idea. He’d run from his life once before. He couldn’t do that again, if only for his staff, who worked so tirelessly to keep things running in his absence.

When Scarlet picked up on the other end of the line, West knew something was up immediately. There was something to the way she spoke, a giddiness he hadn’t heard before.

“Can you send in my next appointment, please?” West said, ignoring the unusual tone.

“Right away, sir.”

West hung up once more and scrubbed one hand over his face. His patience ran thin, and his energy was zapped. The coffees he mainlined all day did nothing to perk him up. A moment later he heard the door click open, and when he looked up, he thought he was hallucinating.

“Seriously?” he asked, still not believing what he was seeing.

“Hey,” Rush said, stepping forward.

West’s attention zoned in on him, and he almost missed the self-satisfied smirk from Scarlet.

“Just to let you know, I’ve moved the rest of the appointments for the day. You know, in case this meeting runs long.”

He definitely needed to give her a raise.

West heard the click of the door as it shut, and he was up and across the room, pulling Rush into his arms and taking him in a crushing kiss. It was needy and devoid of all finesse, and it was everything West needed. His hands slid along Rush’s jaw, holding him there as though West were afraid he might vanish.

“I missed you. So fucking much,” Rush said.

West felt the words as much as he heard them, Rush’s voice vibrating against his chest.

“I missed you too,” West said.

Rush kissed him then, his body explaining better than words ever could. He undid West’s shirt with careful movements, sliding each button through to expose more skin. As the fabric fell away, Rush glided his hands across, his touch gentle. West leaned into him, needing those hands, that touch. It had been so long since they’d been together, and West craved Rush more than he thought possible. Despite the fact that they were standing in the middle of West’s office, they took their time, as though they had all day to get to the good stuff. Rush stroked and kissed every inch of West’s body as he gently pulled his clothes away. West undressed Rush at the same time, wanting nothing between them. There had been too much between them for far too long, and now that Rush was standing there in front of him, he wanted him bare.

Their clothes crumpled and forgotten against the side of West’s desk, the air between them heated up as they kissed, the passion intensifying with each glide of Rush’s tongue against his.

West was on fire, consumed with desire. Even the nonexistent space between them was too much. “Rush,” West said, the word a plea, as Rush kissed a trail down West’s neck and across his collarbone.

Their gazes met, and Rush understood. He nodded once and stepped away, grabbing his pants from where he had kicked them minutes earlier. Digging through the pocket, he found what he was looking for, then pulled West back into his arms. He walked backward, pulling West toward the couch. He’d never been more thankful his interior designer insisted on it than when Rush lowered him onto the soft leather before covering West’s body with his own.

West arched up, desperate to maintain the contact, his hips tilting as he slid his cock against Rush’s. Rush growled and thrust forward, making West gasp at the increased friction. It had been too damn long since they’d been like this—since they’d been together at all. It wasn’t enough.

“Please….”

Rush kissed him again, cutting him off. West felt him shift, positioning his cock against West’s entrance. He pushed forward, and West hissed, letting his head fall back against the couch. It was so good, too much and not enough. Rush moved slowly, but West didn’t want slow. He needed more. Thrusting his hips up, he forced Rush all the way inside.

He heard Rush growl, and then he was moving, fucking him, his hands hooked around West’s shoulders for leverage as he drove himself deep. West looked up, startled by the raw hunger there that matched his own. He didn’t know how he had walked away from this. Worse, how he stayed away.

“Fuck, don’t stop,” West said, his voice gravelly and heavy with need.

Rush shifted and thrust harder, the tip of his cock hitting just the right spot, and all thoughts flew from West’s mind. All he could do was give himself over to Rush, let him take control, and with two more thrusts, send them both right over the edge.

West’s vision blurred at the edges as he exploded, his back arching and his eyes wrenching shut. He called out Rush’s name, and somewhere in the recesses of his mind, he knew the others in the office heard him, but he didn’t give a shit. Nothing else mattered but this.

Rush slowed, then stopped, pressing a tender kiss against West’s temple. It was so gentle and in such stark contrast to the claiming that just took place. West smiled, loving the two sides of Rush equally.

Carefully, Rush pulled out and cleaned them up before sitting back down on the sofa and pulling West into his arms.

“I really did miss you,” Rush said.

“I did too. But if that was the result of being apart, we may need to spend more time on opposite sides of the country. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, my ass. Absence makes the sex mind blowing.”

Rush laughed. “How about we have a repeat performance in a few hours, and I prove it’s not absence that does it.”

West smiled and kissed him. “Deal.”

“I STILL
can’t quite believe you’re here,” West said later that night, pulling Rush closer as they settled into the soft leather of West’s sofa. “How long can you stay?”

“As long as it takes,” Rush replied.

West pushed back to look at him. “As long as it takes for what?”

“I’m not sure. All I know is I’m miserable without you back home, and my mom talked some sense into me. It shouldn’t be you making sacrifices to make this work. You shouldn’t always have to come to me, so I came here. I know the setup isn’t perfect. You’re going to need to work while I’m here. But I’m okay with that. I can be happy with seeing you in the mornings and evenings. It’s better than not seeing you at all.”

“I’ve missed you. So fucking much,” West said, curling back against Rush’s body. He fit there, like he’d been made to fit against him. West liked to think he had. Without knowing how long Rush would be with him, he felt as though they were cuddling on borrowed time. It was bittersweet, and West had no idea how he was going to be able to say good-bye when he finally left.

He thought briefly about asking Rush to stay, but he didn’t belong in Chicago. His farm was in California. His dog. His life. It wouldn’t be so easy to transplant him to the city, and West didn’t want him to move. More than anything, he wanted Rush to be happy, and he didn’t think the downtown core of Chicago was a place where Rush would flourish.

They stayed up as long as their eyes would hold out, and when they finally climbed into West’s enormous bed, they both gravitated to the middle. They lay, limbs intertwined, fingers gently stroking, as though if they closed their eyes the other might disappear.