He had a severe look on his face. She couldn’t tell if he was angry or hurt. Or both.
“Okay,” he said.
They walked back up the path together and back into her house.
“I’m really sorry,” she said once they were inside. “It’s been a rough couple of days at work, I was in a bad mood, and I took it out on you. I shouldn’t have.”
He kissed her cheek.
“It’s okay,” he said. “I’m sorry, too. I was also in kind of a bad mood. I knew you had work to do, I shouldn’t have pushed.”
They sat back down on the couch, and she went to close her laptop.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
She turned to look at him.
“I feel like I should let this go until the morning.”
He shook his head.
“Oh no, please finish this tonight. If you don’t finish, you’ll just stress about it and get fussy again.” She couldn’t even take offense at that description of her, especially when he said it with that tender smile on his face. She smiled back at him.
“Is that what you guys would say about me in the tasting room? ‘Oh, is Margot getting fussy again?’？”
He shook his head.
“Absolutely not. Everyone loves you there. I tried to never talk about you at all, if I could help it—I didn’t want to make it quite so obvious how I felt about you.” He put his arm around her. “Can I help? Not to hurry you up, but you had that look on your face like you were stuck, and sometimes it helps to bounce things off someone else.”
She put her hand on his cheek.
“I’d love that, thank you. And I know it’s not just to hurry me up, you didn’t have to say that.”
She pulled him close and kissed him. Softly, tenderly, with all of the longing that she’d felt for him, last night and this morning, when she’d missed him so much. She’d been sort of scared of those feelings, she realized now. Scared that she’d become so used to having him around that she’d missed him that much when he wasn’t there. She rested her head on his chest. He wrapped his arms around her and held her there.
“You’ve had a tough week, haven’t you?” he asked.
The concern for her in his question, in his voice, made tears spring to her eyes.
“Yeah,” she said into his chest.
She usually didn’t admit this. She acted like—she felt like she had to act like—everything was fine, easy, perfect. That she was working hard and loving every moment of it. But she could tell Luke the truth.
“It’s just that . . . so much is riding on this party, and it’s all on me, and sometimes it feels overwhelming.”
He kissed the side of her head and pulled her closer.
“I’m sorry it’s been so hard,” he said.
She just wanted to stay there forever. For the first time in a long time, she felt cared for. It almost scared her, how good it felt. How much she craved this feeling.
Well, not almost. Okay, she’d have to deal with that fear, and why she was like this, in therapy. At some point.
For now, she turned back to her computer, but stayed close to him.
“We should finish this newsletter so I don’t get fussy again.”
He kissed her cheek.
“Let’s take a look at it.”
She set her computer on a pillow on her lap, and he peered over her shoulder.
“Oh no, we have to fix that subject line,” he said.
She sighed.
“I know. What was I thinking?”
“You were thinking that you’re exhausted and you’ve been working very long days this week, that’s what you were thinking.” He dropped his arm from around her shoulders and then nudged her legs. “Swing those up on the couch.”
She did what he said. He pulled the cardigan off her shoulders.
“Now. Let’s get this newsletter done.” He put his hands on her shoulders and pressed his thumbs deep into her upper back. She let out a moan, and he stopped. “Too hard?”
She shook her head.
“No, that’s perfect. But how do you expect me to do any work when you’re doing that?”
He dropped a quick kiss on the back of her neck.
“We’re both good at multitasking. Plus, what you have right now is too boring, matter-of-fact, corporate. You want this newsletter to feel relaxed, fun, even a little sexy, don’t you? You’ve got to get in the mood to write it.”
The whole time he was talking, he massaged her shoulders, her upper back. She’d thought she’d known what his fingers could do to her—apparently she had whole new avenues to discover.