Bourbon Summer, page 14
Her words touched me while adding a heavy amount of longing. His heart was untouchable, and he’d set a boundary last night. The least I could do was respect it. So, yes, they could trust me with him, but also, they didn’t have to worry. Tenor could enforce his own limits.
“I’ll do right by him.” I smiled. “I promise.”
Wynter gave me an appreciative grin. “That’s the thing, Ruby. We’re not worried and you can’t imagine how relieved that makes us. He’s been so guarded since—” She pressed her lips together.
“Katrina?” I asked.
The sisters nodded.
“The fallout was devastating,” Summer answered. “He took the breakup really hard.”
“I don’t think it was the breakup,” Wynter clarified. “Not by itself. I think she said worse things about him than that asshole from high school ever did.”
The other sisters’ nods were solemn.
My heart went out to a young Tenor. “I’ve heard a little,” I admitted, “and it’s just awful. Both with his bully and his ex. Tenor’s been the best . . . everything . . . ever. I’ve never felt so special.” Nothing about my claim was a lie.
“When you find the right guy,” Summer said, “you’ll be his center.”
“Yeah.” The word gusted out of Autumn. Her dreamy smile dug its way into my brain.
When you find the right guy, you’ll be his center.
Didn’t that sound amazing? To be someone’s first thought and priority? Someone that I could be myself with? Someone who would get over himself to have me?
Too bad my life wasn’t a book.
Tenor
“I’ll be honest,” Teller said, moving hot dogs to the higher rack on the grill, “I thought you would’ve scared yourself off from Ruby by now.”
I handed him the plate of hamburger patties to put on next and checked on Ruby. She was standing with Wynter and Autumn. Were they talking about Copper Summit stuff, or about me?
“Why would you think that?” I asked more to stall him than to talk about the dark-haired woman I wanted to sidle up behind and wrap my arms around. I’d press a kiss at the nape of her neck and—
“She might actually get to know you. Can’t have that,” he finished sarcastically.
I hated that I knew what he meant. “She doesn’t care about Warhammer.”
Teller gave me a duh look. “No one should.”
I lifted a shoulder. I should’ve mingled with Gideon and Myles. Or helped Tate chase after his kids with Scarlett. To be fair, Tate was probably trying to watch Scarlett’s ass as much as their kids.
Jonah took a drink of his cherry lemonade. “What about Warhammer? What’s wrong with it?”
“Nothing.” Teller gave me a pointed look. “But his ex thought it was childish.”
Jonah’s forehead creased. “You could be into creepy dolls. Who cares about a game?”
“It’s that it wasn’t just a game,” I said. “It’s that I read the books, I collect the models and paint them, and I go to weekly game nights. With my units packed in nice cases. All while still living with my parents, at the time.”
Jonah had known me when I was more open about my hobby. By the time I had dated Katrina, he’d become a reclusive mountain man. He didn’t know any of the story.
“You sound like you’re defending her,” Teller said, his lip curling with disgust.
“I’m not.” I appreciated his support but pretending she’d solely been in the wrong didn’t help me. I had intentionally hidden that part of myself from her. She’d felt duped. “Most women aren’t going to want their partner to be that invested in something else on top of the relationship and their full-time job.”
“How are you balancing it now?” Teller asked.
“I paint and she reads.” It had been one night and I spoke as if we’d had our routine down for years. A little spear of want went through my chest.
“Still doing the game nights?” Jonah asked.
I nodded. “Wednesday nights. That’s when she works at the bar.” I didn’t mention that it was pure coincidence.
Jonah shrugged. “So it’s that easy.”
“We’re only dating; we’re not married.” That had been Katrina’s argument. What will it be like when we’re married? You sold me a lie. You’re a lie.
I was a lie. Then and now.
“Or . . .” Teller tossed the burgers on the grill. “Ruby’s not a superficial prick who only thinks of herself and her image and she doesn’t see you as another accessory.”
“Katrina was a superficial prick.” Didn’t mean she’d been wrong. Besides, it hadn’t just been her telling me I was a dud. My family had stood up for me against the asshole from school and his friends, but he’d said the same thing. I was a loser without my family backing me up. Then there’d been the girlfriends before Katrina, telling me they wanted more, they expected me to be different, and why wasn’t I more like Teller or Tate. Thoughts of all of them made me itch to be closer to my pretend girlfriend. “I’m gonna check on Ruby.”
She was chatting with Wynter when I walked up. I looped my arms around her waist, glad to have an excuse to touch her. Had to make this look legit. If only it wouldn’t be indecent to slide my hands down those bare legs of hers. Her flimsy skirt went past her knees, but the way it swayed with her hips was hypnotic.
She cast a surprised look over her shoulder but smiled. “Hi.”
“Hi yourself,” I said as if I hadn’t talked to her a half hour ago.
Wynter smirked. “Is this how sappy Myles and I were?”
“You still are,” I shot back.
Myles came up behind his wife and tucked her into his side. He had a lemonade in his other hand. Mama must have their little girl, Elsa. She was always in grandma heaven during these gatherings.
Myles handed the lemonade to Wynter. She took a big drink and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. His eyes crinkled at the corners as warmth infused them. He swiped at her lower lip with his thumb.
“Exactly,” I said.
Ruby giggled and hooked her hands on mine. “It’s so sweet. I always wanted that.”
Wynter winked. “I think you have it.”
Ruby stiffened under my hands, and I commiserated. Our goal was to look legit, but moments like this felt too fucking real.
Mama came out the back door of the house with a giant bowl in one hand while holding Elsa on her hip with the other. Both Myles and I jumped to help her.
He waved me off. “I got it.”
“Ten bucks says she’ll give him the bowl, not the toddler,” Wynter said as she watched her husband jog across the gravel stretch between the house and the shop.
“I’m not taking bets I’m going to lose,” I said.
“Hey, Wynter,” Ruby said, “there’s one more thing on Monday I wanted to talk to you about. I’m just mentioning it so I don’t forget. I don’t want to bombard you with work stuff on a weekend.”
Wynter waved off her words. “Technically, I brought it up first. Bombard away.”
Ruby’s grip on my hands tightened. “So, um, last weekend I was at Flatlanders Prohibited.” She glanced back at me. “For research purposes only.”
“I wanted to prove that she’d get hit on,” I said because Wynter would dig for the story.
“So you took her to Flatlanders?” Wynter screwed her face up. “You could’ve taken her to Broken Oar. What a waste of potential Flatlanders is.”
“It’s not terrible.” Ruby’s answer was light and sweet, much like her. Flatlanders was run-down and poorly managed. “But I took some pictures, and I sent them to the bartender, Allen . . . since he gave me his number.”
A low growl left me, and Wynter snickered.
“They must’ve made it back to the owner. She wants to pick my brain, but I want to clear it with you. I only planned to give her general tips for increasing social media engagement and help her brainstorm.”
Wynter’s expression turned doubtful. “She? Madison?” Her gaze lifted to mine. “You think Allen sent her the images instead of going to Scooter?”
Ruby pulled away to study each of us. “Did I do something wrong?”
“Madison is the owner’s sister,” I explained. “She doesn’t live in town, but she’s moving here. Allen might’ve bypassed Scooter because he wants a job and Scooter is running Flatlanders into the ground.”
“Does Madison know you work for Copper Summit?” Wynter asked hesitantly.
Worry infused Ruby’s eyes. “I don’t know. I forgot that they don’t know me.” She grimaced. “They think my name is Rue.”
I placed my hand on her lower back and stroked her with my thumb.
“You’re free to meet with her,” Wynter reassured Ruby. “But she might not want to talk with you once she learns you’re on Team Bailey.” Wynter winced. “That’s how she’ll see it.”
“I can go with you,” I offered. “Just in case she gets mean.”
Wynter shook her head. “Madison’s not mean. She’s . . . defensive. Her mama and daddy hated the Baileys. Now Scooter owns the bar and hates the Baileys. Madison was a year ahead of me in school and she had nothing to do with me or my sisters.”
“Maybe I do need reinforcements.” Ruby leaned into me. “I’ll tell her who I am first and see how she reacts. If she wants to meet, I’ll be back next weekend.” She glanced back at me as if asking for permission.
The idea she might skip a weekend unsettled me. “Yeah, you will,” I growled.
Wynter groaned. “Yep. I can see it. Myles and I really were incorrigible.”
“You still are,” I replied. “All of you.”
“Well, now you’re included.” Wynter squinted at the grill where Teller chatted with Lane and Cruz. “Now we just have to find someone for Teller.”
“Teller doesn’t want to be found.” Teller could be married tomorrow if he wanted to be. There were plenty of willing tributes in town.
Wynter didn’t take her eyes off our brother. “Wilna’s hunting for him. I bet she’ll convince him to be a bachelor.”
I laughed. “No.”
Ruby looked between us. “Wilna?”
“She runs the bachelor auction.” Wynter propped her hands on her hips. “The fate you saved Tenor from. But I don’t think Teller’s going to be so lucky. I’d bet a hundred on it.”
“I’m going to take that bet.” I dug out my wallet and flashed Wynter a hundred.
Her face turned smug. “You’re on. I’m going to ask the others if they want in.”
“You guys are betting on Teller?” Ruby asked.
“I’m betting on Wilna,” Wynter said. A kid called out and she twisted her head to find Myles and Elsa. “I’d better see if she’s hungry.” She started walking away. “Let me know how it goes with Madison,” she called over her shoulder.
Ruby turned into me. “I’m glad you weren’t in the bachelor auction. I never could’ve outbid anyone.”
“I would’ve paid someone to bid on me for me. I’d have cashed in my retirement.” I shuddered. “The deal between us benefits me too.”
“Glad I could help. So how are we fake dating next weekend?”
“Let’s go to Curly’s.”
Her smile fell. “You don’t have to.”
I took her hand. “I want to. Others are going to talk, and I’m not that insecure kid anymore. I have to quit acting like it.”
“If you want to back out before then, I won’t take it personally.”
“I won’t back out.”
Her lips curved up. “It’s a date, then.” She touched the tip of her nose and winked.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Ruby
I spent my Friday shift at the bar waiting for Tenor to walk in and help me close. Closing time was fast approaching and he was nowhere to be seen. Teller’s pickup was still in the lot, but where Tenor usually parked next to him was empty.
Two guys were at a corner table. I’d served them before. They usually talked quietly together before leaving ten minutes before close.
I washed some glassware and stocked behind the bar. Before long, everything was tidied and ready for the next day. The scrape of chairs announced the customers’ departure. Just as they were walking out, the door connecting the tasting room to the lobby swung open.
Teller entered and he nodded when he saw me. “Hey. Just gonna make sure you get everything locked up okay. Tenor’s helping Lane fix some hydraulics.” He scratched his beard. “We’re haying soon.”
“Oh. Okay.” Acute disappointment hung heavy on my shoulders. Tenor was busy fixing a tractor on a Friday night when his girlfriend was supposed to be arriving at his place?
I wasn’t his girlfriend. Tenor wasn’t Brock ignoring my arrival. But the new handkerchief dress I had bought with my tips from the last month was wasted on regulars who were all either married or not interested. Nor was I interested in them.
“Thank you,” I said, regaining my composure. Even if I were Tenor’s girlfriend, I wouldn’t pout because he hadn’t helped me close. I’d get on with what I was doing. He wasn’t avoiding me. It’s that we weren’t really a thing. “I just need to cash out and clean that last table, then I’ll be done.”
“No rush. I got the table.”
He grabbed the rag while I counted the small amount of cash that had come in tonight. When we were done, I sent the shift reports to Tenor and tucked the tablet away under the bar.
Would he be at his place when I got there?
As if reading my mind, Teller leaned a hand against the bar and propped his other on his hip. “Tenor said he left his door unlocked.” He tapped his fingers on the countertop. “Everything okay between you two?”
Alarm flooded into my veins. Why would Teller be worried? “Did he say something?”
“He’s been in his head more than usual.”
I ran through the events of last weekend. The barbecue at Mae’s had been fun. We’d eaten next to each other, I’d chatted more with his sisters and Mae, and then I had headed home. Like most weeks, we hadn’t messaged each other. I spent Monday through Friday a single gal. Perhaps a little melancholy. I might’ve missed Tenor. I might also have interpreted his weekday radio silence as proof he wasn’t into me.
Overall, things between us were normal for a couple who was fake dating. “I can’t think of what might be bothering him. The wedding maybe? We haven’t made a big splash in public yet and he hates attention.”
The wedding or our nondate tomorrow night. If either was the case, we didn’t have to go. That’d be the end of us, but as much as I wanted Tenor—a lot—I wanted a man who couldn’t get enough of me.
“He does hate it.” Teller’s gaze went icy. “That jackass in school really did a number on him.” He gave me a sharp look. “Did he tell you about Bobby?”
I shook my head. “No details. But he spoke a bit about what it was like for him.”
“Tate and I tried to interfere. The asshole was in my grade even though he was older than me, but he was good at getting to Tenor when he was alone. Nasty kid.”
“Poor Tenor,” I murmured. “I’m sure he didn’t fight back.”
“Tenor always makes sure he’s the bigger guy. It’s why the breakup with Katrina was so hard on him.” Teller swiped a hand down his beard. “He tried to be the best guy she could dream of. He was everything but himself.”
“I doubt that.” Distaste for the conversation danced on my tongue, leaving a sour tang. “Tenor is always himself. She just didn’t look very hard.”
Teller barked out a laugh. “It’s nice to see he’s gotten better taste since then. Just don’t let him scare himself off. You’re good for him. We can all see it.”
“He’s been good for me too.” There’d be no scaring him off. I hadn’t gotten him in the first place.
Teller didn’t go for the door. “Wynter also asked some probing questions. About how Junie shouldn’t be the only face of Copper Summit anymore. Asking if I’d like my picture taken.”
“Oh.” I couldn’t decipher his tone. Was he unhappy with the idea? “Yes. I can crop out your face. Blur it or get angles that preserve your anonymity.”
“No one wants to see my face.”
I rolled my eyes. “I had this same talk with Tenor. People very much do want to see your face.” I made a frame with my hands and he was at the center. “The whole plaid-and-bearded thing? Catnip. People who never thought to sample bourbon will be thinking about it after seeing you with a glass.” I dropped my arms.
He tugged at his polo. “I’m not wearing plaid.”
“You wear it enough.”
His brows drew together. “I still don’t see it.”
“I’d get them to see it.” Just a picture of him the way he was now would make a good post. “But like I said, I’d work in your comfort zone.”
“I don’t need to be targeted as the last single guy in a bourbon empire.”
Some guys would be on board. Snagging women who came for tours with hearts in their eyes? Not Teller, apparently. I respected him for it. “I’d keep that in mind.”
He considered me for a moment. “If you can talk the others into it, then I’ll think about it.”
“Are you saying that because you’re sure Tenor won’t agree?”
His smirk told me I had busted him. “How long have you been going out?”
“A few—” I almost said weeks, but we’d told them . . . what again? “Months. A couple of months.” I managed not to make it sound like a question.
“And I haven’t seen him pop up anywhere in a photo. If he’s on board, then I’ll do it. How’d the meeting with Madison go?” My surprise must have been obvious because he winced. “Sorry. We’re a family company, so that means we’re in everyone’s business.”
“You should run that by Wynter for a marketing slogan.”
He grinned. “Somehow, I don’t think that will sell.”
My brain was already in post mode, thinking of fun sayings and images I could get for it.
A family company means we’re in everyone’s business.
