When the Heart Falls

There’s a hint of sadness in her voice. Is she as confident as she seems about our future, or, like me, does she worry that despite our best intentions, some things are too amazing to last?

The morning is bright, sun high, with a cool breeze coming from the ocean, as we set out on our adventure. Once we figure out the logistics of renting a car, and driving on the wrong side of the road—nothing like a near-death experience to bring two lovers closer—we head out to our first destination: Chateau de La Ballue, famous gardens first created for writers and artists.

Winter, while reading the brochure, keeps shoving it at me, her finger pointing to yet another exciting bit of information. "Did you see this part? Futuristic architects designed the side garden in the purest mannerist style. I don't know what it means, but it sounds cool. You should be a futuristic architect. That's awesome. You can design the future."

Her enthusiasm is contagious, and amusing. "Futuristic architecture is an early 20th century form of architecture first developed in Italy. It eschews more historical styles and instead focuses on long dynamic lines that suggest speed, motion, urgency and lyricism. It was a popular style for poets, musicians and artists, thus the origination of La Ballue gardens."

She looks around, taking in geometric shapes carved from the garden itself. "It's so different from what we've seen so far, I can see why it's considered futuristic." Reading more of her brochure, she jumps up and down like a little kid. "There's a maze. The Maze of Leaves. We have to go through it! We can race and see who gets to the end first."

I almost argue, preferring to be with her, but it does sound like fun. We enter through a tall column of bushes that are sculpted into the facade of a building, and we each choose a different path to begin the maze. It's a labyrinth with secret compartments and dead ends. These gardens made by architects intrigue me. I've never considered using my talents with nature but love how nature and man come together here. It must take a lot of work to keep the gardens maintained. I can't imagine what it looked like when it was neglected for nearly 30 years.

Winter giggles somewhere, and I re-focus to find my own way out, anxious to be with her again. After many dead ends, I turn a corner and run right into her. We've reached the middle together.

I pull her into my arms and taste her mouth, cupping her head with one hand as the other slides up and down her back. She moans and relaxes into me, our bodies melding together. I slide my hand up her shirt, trailing my fingers over her belly, grazing her nipples through her silk bra. "You think anyone will find us?"

She pushes away. "I found you, didn't I?"

"I let you."

"Liar." She unbuttons two pearl buttons on her blouse, exposing the white lace of her bra and soft curve of pale flesh beneath. "How about this. You can have me, if you catch me." She dashes behind a wall of leaves.

I rush after her and turn a corner, but she’s disappeared.

Stomping with exaggerated motions, I look down every turn. "Fee-fi-fo-fum. I smell the blood of—"

"Stop,” she says from somewhere to the left. “It's embarrassing."

I follow her voice. "Dag nab it. I had a good twist to the story."

Her giggle travels through the maze. "The part where you eat me?"

"Yep. And there's a part in there about bread." Another turn, another dead end.

"So?"

"Bread rhymes with head," Cade says.

"You're disgusting."

"And you love it." Two more turns, this path looking more promising.

"I'm just using you for your body."

"Not right now you aren’t." I’m closer to her voice. She must be around the corner. "I found—" I round the corner, and come to a halt.

She’s discovered one of the secret chambers within the maze and is sitting in the grass, turned away from me, blouse beside her.

Like a dryad from a story.

Her long black hair trails down her back. The curve of her creamy shoulders enticing.

The vision is so unexpected, so beautiful and erotic.

She turns her head to peer over her shoulder at me. “You were saying?”

I take a step closer. “I was saying something?”

Her eyes twinkle with mischief as she bites her lower lip. “I did promise a prize if you found me.”

I walk around her, admiring every angle. “You don’t know what you do to me, Winter.”

“I know what I want you to do to me.” She reaches her hand out, and I kneel in front of her as she rises to her knees.

We face each other, passion ablaze between us. “What do you want me to do to you?” I ask. I can think of so many things I’d like to do.

Her fingers grip my collar as she pulls me closer. “First, kiss me, cowboy.”

My lips hover a breath from hers. “As the lady wishes.” I’m gentle with her at first, my mouth landing on hers lightly, a whisper of a kiss as my knuckles graze her back and shoulders.