Bourbon Summer, page 13
“You’re not close with him?”
“Yes and no. We have a decent relationship, but I made the mistake of crying to him when I got dumped for the first time.” I held in my wince. First time. Tenor would wish he could take back that smoldering kiss last weekend. “He said I should quit feeling sorry for myself. ‘Suck it up and move on, kiddo.’ ” I mimicked Dad’s rough voice.
“Ouch.”
“Yeah, it didn’t feel so good at the time. I think he thought the guy probably had a point when he said that I should broaden my horizons so we had more interests in common.”
“No, the guy was an idiot.”
“Some people just don’t work out.” I didn’t want to defend the men who’d shattered my hopes and insulted me a little in the process, but we just hadn’t been compatible. That was what it came down to. I just wished they’d have told me right away. That particular ex had sulked for two months before he’d finally broken up with me.
I should’ve dumped him after a month.
“My dad told me to suck it up once.” Tenor got a faraway look in his eye. “After . . . After my last breakup felt like a long line of failures with me as the common denominator,” he finished, using my description.
“Ouch.”
“Nah, it wasn’t quite like that. He mostly meant that I had to come to terms with the reason for the breakup, which was that she didn’t like me for who I really was. He told me to own it. Own everything about me, and that’s what I did.”
“Your dad was a smart man.” I’d never known Darin Bailey, but someone like Mae wouldn’t put up with a douche.
“He was.” Tenor gripped the edge of the island. “He encouraged me to wait before I built this place. To make it something I wanted versus a knee-jerk reaction to Katrina’s words.”
“Katrina?”
His jaw turned to stone. “My last ex. She moved away shortly after we broke up.”
His tone said it all. It was her who’d convinced him he wasn’t what women wanted. It was her who’d made him take himself off the market. What a damn tragedy. I hated her.
“I say it’s time to spite our exes and do our totally uncool hobbies.”
The corner of his mouth curled up. “No judgment.”
“No judgment, Warhammer.”
I ducked into the guest room and grabbed my book. I slipped the fake cover off before I left the room. I’d stopped at a bookstore and bought a sci-fi romance with something close enough to space marines. It hadn’t been easy to find. I had ordered two online just in case.
By the time I returned to the main area, he was laying out a measuring mat I’d seen my dad’s grandma use for sewing. He paused when he saw me, his gaze flitting over his items.
I brandished my book with the abs on the cover with one hand and waved my phone with the other. “Should I admit to how badly I want to scroll through all the cocktail recipes ever served at Copper Summit and see if we can come up with some signature specials just for the wedding?” The more I thought about the idea, the higher my excitement crept. “If Wynter goes for it. Anyway, that’s my wild Saturday night. Cocktails and Orks. I’m actually stoked about it.”
He let out a soft, relieved chuckle. “Talk to Wynter. I think it’s a good idea, and if word spreads, I think we’d pick up more events.”
Finally, he resumed what he was doing. On top of the mat, he placed a cup of water and two pieces of paper. One of the standing lamps from his room loomed at his side.
A tiny but hulking figure of a space marine sat in front of him. More were off to his side in another black plastic container. He dug out small paint bottles of black, white, and gold from the container he’d set on the chair next to him. He shook each bottle as he laid them out.
I tucked my phone in my pocket and hugged my book to my chest. “Mind if I watch for a while?”
“It’ll be boring.”
“Right now, it looks fascinating.” I dropped into a chair at the end of the table.
“Tell you what, I’ll explain my process, and after you read for a while, we’ll talk about that.”
“That might get awkward. My space marines have sex.”
He chuckled, deep and pleasing. “Then I’m definitely holding tight to my terms.”
Since I liked when he was playful and open with me, I set my book on the table. “Deal.”
“All right.” He adjusted the light to shine above his shoulder and onto the miniature. I picked up a paintbrush with short, narrow bristles. “There are a lot of details. I’ve already washed these, and I’m going to paint on a base layer. But since I thin the paint a little, it’ll be about two or three coats. Then I’ll paint the details. The platform is last and it has a textured paint.”
“You do all the models one at a time?”
“It takes some time. I have to wait for all the layers to dry, but I enjoy the process. I’ll have a video playing or an audiobook.”
“What do you listen to?”
That earned me another sidelong look. “Warhammer.”
I laughed. “That’s cool though. You can consume it in different forms. Books, games, art.”
He paused dabbing blue paint on the paper. “A lot of people would think it’s a triple waste of time.”
“How many of them would spend an entire Sunday watching football? Or is it Monday? Both?”
“You’re asking the wrong guy.” He swiped his brush across the base.
I spectated through the painting of one figurine. By the time he was done, the marine’s uniform had gold embellishments and the weapons it carried were black.
I ducked down to squint at the finished product. “So much definition. Do you 3D print these?”
“Some people do. But a lot of places that host games prefer that sets are purchased through them instead of bringing homemade ones. I like to support the game shops anyway.” He dug out another figure.
The longer I was around Tenor, the clearer it was how much terrible behavior I’d tolerated in my dating life. Not just in the treatment I’d accepted from my partners but with them as people. Tenor was thoughtful and generous.
If I watched him much longer, I’d crawl onto his lap and tell him to paint me. But he hadn’t made a move on me. “I’m going to read.”
He caught my hand and stroked his thumb along my skin, then let it go. Tingles spread from where he’d touched me, up my arm and down my spine.
“Remember to take notes,” he said in a low voice.
The banter. Those moments he touched me like he couldn’t make himself stop. I’d take all this with me after the wedding. Grinning, I sank into the corner of his couch and tackled the cocktail menus from the tasting bar I had emailed to myself. I started a new email to myself with thoughts and ideas to send to Wynter. Once I was tired of typing, I picked up my paperback. Most of my job was on a screen, and I treasured getting lost in a paperback.
Shortly after I started reading, Tenor went into the kitchen. He brought me a rocks glass with a finger of bourbon.
I smiled my thanks. “Bourbon and romance novels?”
He held up his glass. “Bourbon and Warhammer.”
I grinned and took a drink. Mm. Copper Summit Gold. He was spoiling me with the best. I would not settle for less again.
I’d read through a good chunk of the book when he took my phone off the end table. Surprised but intrigued, I didn’t stop him as he stood back and snapped a picture. Then he kneeled next to me and showed me the image. I looked relaxed. Happy. He gently took the book out of my hands.
“Time to live up to your end of the bargain.”
“Well, there’s this human woman—” My smile caught. Oh no. The story was super steamy. The love interests had gotten physical within three chapters. It hadn’t even been intimacy. That was still developing. They’d just been down and dirty. How much had Tenor been joking about wanting to swap stories? “And she meets this space marine,” I continued weakly. “He rescues her actually, um, by buying her from an intergalactic sex auction. Only he has to, like, actually use her as his sex slave to get them both out safely.”
He arched a brow. “Naturally. And what does that entail?”
How far was he going to take this? And why was it so easy for me to push at his limits? I had to hold back. “It’s not like your painting. I can’t show you.”
“I highly doubt that.” He gently lifted the book from my hands and paged through it. His gaze darkened and a muscle in his jaw jumped.
I knew what he was reading. I wanted to sink through the couch.
“ ‘Sit on my face,’ ” he began. “ ‘Put that pussy where I want it the most.’ ”
My heart thudded. Those words in his deep voice were so much more than what had run through my head when I read them. I was going to burn through the couch. From embarrassment or desire? Yet I didn’t grab the book from him. More, please.
He wasn’t scoffing, but I’d heard all the arguments. I could head them off before he brought up the first one. “I know, I know. It’s not realistic.”
He frowned at me. “How do you mean?”
“Sit on his face? He’d get smothered in real life.”
“That’s the point.”
I opened my mouth. Shut it again. He sounded so certain. “How would you breathe?”
He held my gaze for a moment, then dropped his attention back to the page. “I believe the characters make it through. ‘That’s right. Come hard for me, like a good little wench.’ ”
“It’s a pet name. Just between the two of them.” I managed to sound normal. My brain was flashing back to last weekend. Now ride your hand and pretend your thumb is my tongue, licking your clit in tight circles.
I squashed a whimper. I was warm and achy. Needy. He was kneeling close to me and reading a sex scene. Out loud.
“That doesn’t explain why you think sitting on his face is unrealistic,” he said.
“Come on,” I scoffed. “He’d suffocate.”
“Guys are willing to take the risk.”
“No, they’re not.” I didn’t have much experience in this area, but what I did have conflicted with the book. “Guys get impatient enough when the girl’s on top and taking too much time. If she’s sitting on him?” I gave him a flat look. I was dying inside, but my certainty was strong. “He’d shove her off before she’s even close.”
Tenor’s gaze narrowed. Then he deliberately slipped my bookmark off the end table and saved the spot I was at. He put the book to the side. “That most certainly should not be the case. Ever.”
A nervous laugh left me and I shrank into the corner of the couch. “Sure.”
“Ruby.” My name gusted out of him. “If only I could show you how wrong you are.”
“It’d be a bad idea.” I had no clue why. It sounded like a fabulous option. He was supposed to show me what I’d been missing. Didn’t that include orgasms that weren’t an inconvenience?
“Yeah,” he said quietly, his gaze dropping from my face to my bare legs curled under me. “A bad idea. Messing around more would muddle things.”
More. Last weekend, we’d messed around. Because of me. He hadn’t wanted me to feel bad, but he also wasn’t looking to end his dry spell with me.
My pride wanted a little something. A tiny sign that said he might be going to bed as full of want and longing as I did, and it wasn’t from the scene he’d been reading. That it was from my presence. It was from the memory of last weekend and how nice it’d been to be kissed with heat and passion. That he couldn’t get over how easy it was to talk me through the fastest, hardest orgasm of my life. A sign that maybe a guy like him would seriously want to be with someone like me, and not just for sex.
I chided myself. Foolish delusions from the boring girl. He’d been more than tolerant after I’d crawled into his bed. He’d also been clear that he wasn’t looking for a real girlfriend or even a fling. Not with me.
“Exactly. Can’t get things confused.” I stretched my legs out on the couch and my hemline rode so far up my thighs my skirt might as well be off.
I wished Tenor was the one taking it off.
Fire simmered in the yellow of his irises, and he raked his gaze down my legs all the way to my toes. Then dipped his head and seemed to gather himself before handing me the book without looking at me.
“Thank you,” I said, taking it from him. The charged air between us was pulsating, but it had an undeniable awkwardness I didn’t like.
He nodded, and without touching his gaze to my body, he rose. An impressive bulge pushed at his zipper. He turned and adjusted his crotch like he couldn’t take one single step otherwise.
I opened my book, unable to resist prodding at the odd tension between us. “I’ll continue taking notes.”
All I got was a grunt and he went back to the table. I continued reading, pleased I wasn’t the only one uncomfortable.
CHAPTER TEN
Ruby
Horses grazed in the pasture by the barn closest to the house. Red and white chickens darted around on the other side by a cute shed. The shop doors were thrown open and camp chairs dotted the cement slab in front.
I was accustomed to being around the Baileys. Each one of them was essentially my boss, and after the first few months of employment, the worst of my timidity had worn off.
Today, it had roared back in full force.
Wynter pushed her pale, loose braid off her shoulder. “I’m glad you’re here. I always wanted to get to know you outside of work, but I don’t get to the Bozeman office like I used to. Now that I’m split between home and my office here, I don’t see you much at all.”
“It is nice here,” I agreed. I liked my coworkers, but the Bozeman facility didn’t have the hominess of the Bourbon Canyon location. It made sense. Copper Summit was a family company, and it had all started here.
“Are you sure you don’t mind working the wedding? You’re a guest. I told Tenor I didn’t want to dominate your time off.”
“Not a problem at all.” Even if Cara and I were close, I wouldn’t mind. “I look forward to it, and I even have some ideas. My email is ready to send tomorrow.” I didn’t want to dominate her off time either.
She tapped a finger on her can of root beer, her expression curious. “Was turning the wet bar into content your idea?”
“No?” Damn. I couldn’t sound more guilty. The last thing I wanted to do was overstep my place or make my boss feel like I’d outmaneuvered her. “I might’ve mentioned it, but it was in conversation only, when I was just rattling off ideas.”
She cocked her head. “You don’t do that with me.”
“I . . .” I swallowed. “I want to do what I’m told.”
She patted my shoulder. “I promise I’m not scary. I need to hear you rattle, and I want you to be comfortable saying, ‘Wynter, listen.’ ” She sighed. “In fact, when Tenor pulled up the numbers, I realized I’d been remiss. Our family is tighter than ever, and it’s coinciding with our numbers dropping. We’re coasting and we can’t afford to do that forever. So please, don’t just email. Give me a call. Tell me all your ideas.”
“I will, but you might regret it,” I said lightly, but inside I was squealing.
“I might regret it if I don’t listen.”
She didn’t hold my talk with Tenor against me, and she wanted to hear more. This weekend had somehow gotten even better.
Summer approached us, a loose dress swirling around the tops of her boots. Jonah had their son in his arms and was talking to Teller by the two grills.
More than one grill. Mom had tried a small electric grill once. She’d started a fire and dumped a potted plant on it to extinguish the flames. We’d tossed the grill after that.
Summer smiled. “You get something to drink?”
I lifted the same kind of root beer Wynter was drinking. “Yes, thank you.”
Tenor’s presence had been requested by Lane and Cruz inside the shop and I hadn’t wanted to follow like some little girl who couldn’t be alone. At least with the two younger Foster brothers, I wasn’t the youngest adult.
“How’s it been?” she asked, care lacing her voice. “With Tenor?”
Autumn saw us and started for us. She tugged on Scarlett’s arm as she passed where she stood with Tate. I didn’t know Tate’s wife well. She was a quiet school teacher who worked with Autumn. But being married to the eldest Bailey was close enough to having a say over my job. Nerves lit up in my stomach. I took a small sip of root beer. Too much and I’d belch in front of everyone. It’d be like burping in a job interview. I’d already gotten the social media manager job. Now I needed to sell myself as Tenor’s significant other.
“Don’t start with the good stuff before I can hear,” Autumn said as she drew near.
“I ditched Sawyer with Gideon when I saw you all gathering.” She grinned at me, unashamed. “I won’t call Junie so she can eavesdrop. We have some decorum.”
Wynter giggled. “I was trying not to pry.” She elbowed Summer. “So I’m glad you asked.”
“There’s nothing to say.” Other than the time I got myself off in his bed. Or last night when he’d read part of a sex scene. My cheeks grew hot.
Summer snickered. “Oh, this is really going to be good.” She held up a hand, looking green around the gills. “Not too graphic, please. He’s our brother, and I don’t want to lose my appetite.”
I smiled. What would it have been like growing up in such a big family? Having so much support that everyone was in your business? I was grown and Mom stayed out of my personal life. She was there if I needed her, but she wasn’t there.
Next week, she was going camping again with Daniel.
“We’re still learning each other.” That was true without giving them details, or worse, lying about how there was nothing but unwanted chemistry between me and their brother. “He’s an incredibly private man.”
Autumn nodded. “I couldn’t believe he ventured back out into the dating world. I was so happy to see it was with you. I trust you with his heart.”
