Bourbon Summer, page 15
We’re in everyone’s business and in everyone’s glass.
Want this family in your business? That could go with an image of any of them.
None of that would happen of course, and neither would helping Flatlanders Prohibited. “I texted Madison to let her know where I worked”—that my name was Ruby and not Rue—“but that I would love to help her with the general stuff. There’d be no conflict of interest. She said thanks, but no, thanks.”
Teller shook his head. “She’s as bad as her brother.”
“She was professional about it.”
“The Townsends shun Baileys and good opportunities.”
The conflict seemed to go back farther than when Teller’s ex had run off with Scooter. Either way, it wasn’t my business.
We walked out of the bar and locked up. Teller waited for me to get into my car and drive away before he left.
The trip to Tenor’s was dark, but I’d traveled the roads enough that I was comfortable.
The light in the living room was on. Excitement rose in my belly. Was he home?
Just as I parked in the empty garage, my phone dinged.
Tenor: There’s food in the fridge. Help yourself. I’m going to be late.
I stared at the message before stuffing my disappointment down and sending back Ok.
I gathered my things and went inside. His place was quiet. Peaceful. Still beautiful, and with his bookshelves and his painting supplies spread across the table, it was homier than the first time I’d stayed.
My phone buzzed again. A thrill twirled in my stomach as I dumped my suitcase in the guest room and dug my phone out of my purse.
Dad: Hey, Rubes. You around?
Me: Are you in Bozeman?
Dad: Will be. Want to meet for a match?
I grimaced. He picked up tennis when he needed to network beyond glossing over his glory days of football, but he was still an obnoxious jock at heart. He made a casual game of tennis into a cutthroat competition. He’d taught me to play on my weekends with him, and he’d urged me to join the high school team. Torture sounded a lot like practicing after school for hours, not to mention how Dad would scream at the sidelines. I hadn’t wanted to experience him getting removed from a tennis game. We still had father-daughter matches, but at least I could limit his shit talk to just us.
Me: Sorry, I’m out of town this weekend and next. Another time?
Dad: Soon. I’ve got another meeting lined up.
Me: Can’t wait.
I looked around the empty cabin. On the plus side, by the time I met up with Dad, I wouldn’t have to hide from him that I was seeing someone from his old hometown. This arrangement would be over by then.
Tenor
I had missed Ruby all damn week. I’d missed her last night. I was missing her this morning.
I finished at the ranch. I could hang out all day, but the other guys had everything covered. Mama had made muffins and here I was, rushing home with them.
After parking outside, I jogged to the door. The sun was bright and the birds were happy. Unlike last night when I’d entered a quiet cabin. Ruby had been asleep in the guest room.
She hadn’t helped herself to my bed while I wasn’t there. I’d stood in the hallway like a fucking stalker, watching her door, listening for any movement, desperate to see her after a long week of coming home to an empty house.
Fuck, I was in a bad way.
I entered the house. The place was quiet.
“Ruby?” I went to the kitchen and deposited the huckleberry muffins on the counter. Mom had also sent another dozen eggs. My stomach clenched. The breakfast sandwich I’d brought with me to do chores had long since burned off.
No answer came. I checked the garage. Her car was gone.
Dammit. I closed the door and peeked into the guest room. Her suitcase was open on the bed.
I pinched between my eyes. Get it together. We had a date tonight. Not a date, dammit. We were going out to eat. For show.
I could wait until she returned to see her. Was she wearing a dress or a skirt?
I’d know in a short time. All I had to do was be patient. I could paint a couple of models while waiting. Mow my lawn. Pull some weeds. Dust. There was plenty to do while waiting for her.
I reached for my phone before I could deliberate further. I typed out Where are you? and sent it.
I waited, rooted in place in my hallway.
Ruby: Mountain Perks.
I was outside and in my pickup within seconds. I flew to town, only obeying the speed limit when I hit city limits. Downtown bustled with activity on a Saturday morning. Cars lined the block around the coffee shop and the boutiques next to it. I took the first spot I could find a few blocks down.
In the coffee shop, I spotted Ruby right away. She sat at a back table, facing away from the entrance, book in hand. Her coffee mug was pushed to the side and an empty plate was at the edge of her table.
The couple who owned the hardware store passed me.
“Hey,” Buddy Kenwood greeted, sticking a hand out. “How’s it go—”
“Good to see you.” I gave him the quickest handshake ever and continued past him.
I probably knew everyone in the place, but I didn’t stop to look. My strides ate up the distance between me and Ruby until I leaned down, tipped her face up, and pressed a kiss to those lips that continued to haunt my dreams. It was for show. That was the only reason I was kissing her.
A small, surprised squeak left her, but she brought a hand to my face and ran her thumb over the scruff on my cheek.
I pulled away enough to say, “Hey.”
Her lips curved up. “Hey yourself.” Bewilderment filled her gaze. She closed her book and set it down. The Pride and Prejudice cover was firmly in place. “Is everything okay?”
The conversation around us had dwindled. Attention was likely planted right on us, but I didn’t care. “Yes.” Now it was.
I swiveled around and sat on the small, round metal chair across from Ruby. I glanced at the other customers. Some curious looks were cast our way. My high school tennis coach gave me a nod, his smile wide. I dipped my head in return.
I folded my hands on the tabletop. “I missed you.”
She lifted her brows and looked around. Comprehension filled her eyes, along with acceptance. Damn. She thought I was doing this all for show.
I was. I had to be. I could not miss Ruby this bad when next weekend was our last time together. “You’re not wearing a skirt.”
She was wearing goddamn blue jeans and those fuckers might undo me worse than a dress.
“I wore a dress last night.” She shrugged with the sassiest attitude I’d ever seen.
Another thing I’d missed. “What do I gotta do to get you to wear it to dinner tonight?” I leaned to the side just a little and checked out what I could see of her lower half. “Those jeans though, Goldilocks. Damn.”
Her cheeks pinked. “Are they just right, Warhammer?”
A few weeks ago, I would’ve died in public if anyone had called me that out loud. I’d be transported back to school when I’d gotten teased for joining the board game club. Then to ten years ago at the gas station, answering questions about my secret nights away from Bourbon Canyon. Katrina had worked hard to make me sound like some creep who catfished women.
“Anything you wear is just right,” I said.
Her smile turned shy and she looked down.
I reached across the table and grabbed her hand. “I mean it. It’s not for”—I lifted my chin toward the main seating area—“this.” I drew my hand away. I wasn’t doing everything for show, but touching her was getting harder to resist.
How many times had I pictured her in the same positions I’d read about in that damn book of hers?
Every night. Multiple times.
She flicked the edges of her book and that damn fake cover. I didn’t care if she wanted to conceal it in public. Just never around me. “Did you get what you needed done in town?”
“What do you mean?”
She laughed. “You surely didn’t drive in for coffee with me.” She pointed to the empty spot in front of me.
I hadn’t made the trip for coffee. I had made it for her. When I’d come back to an empty home, I’d fled to town and right to her. That wasn’t very fake boyfriend–like. “No, I gotta stop at the hardware store.” Which was closed, or Buddy wouldn’t be here right now since he worked most Saturdays. Hopefully she hadn’t seen him. Even better if she didn’t know who he was.
“I was just going to return to the house and wait for you,” she said. She licked her lips like she was hesitant to say something.
“Ruby?”
She shook her head. “It’s about work.”
“You know I don’t mind.”
“You might about this. I talked to Teller last night.”
Ah hell. I knew what she meant. Teller and I had read the email and pushed off the topic until the next meeting. I should’ve known I couldn’t escape it when my weekend guest was the brainchild behind the idea. “Updating our brand?”
She grimaced. “You talked to Wynter?”
“She said we should discuss it at our next meeting, but that including more of us informally might help growth, so whoever wants to help you out should talk to you.”
She nibbled her lower lip. “And you didn’t talk to me.” I opened my mouth to apologize, but she shook her head. “It’s okay. I don’t want to make anyone uncomfortable. Teller isn’t hyped about it either. I just wish I could show the real heart of Copper Summit, which is all of you.”
“We put our heart out there.”
“You put out a polished version. People want to feel like they’re getting backstage access.”
I tapped her book, hidden under what she hoped was a more socially approved cover. “You wanna show off those abs?”
She looked taken aback for a moment, then she gave me a sheepish grin. “Touché.” She put her hand on mine. “The thing is . . . I wouldn’t press so much if I didn’t think that you guys are just used to the way it is here in Bourbon Canyon, where everyone knows who you are. The town loves your legacy. Out there?” She fluttered her other hand toward the window. “Copper Summit is just some bourbon with June Bee’s face on the ads, and the spirits market it getting more crowded. Being a family distillery isn’t the selling point it used to be. It’s pretty much the standard.”
A vise squeezed tighter around my ribs. She was right. More and more niche distilleries were popping up, each with its own unique story. I wanted to help her, but I also wanted to make bourbon. I wanted to run the numbers. I didn’t want to deal with the people. “Sometimes it’s bad enough getting recognized in my hometown.”
She tried to hide her disappointment but failed. “I’ll figure something out. You do enough. So does Teller. Maybe Wynter and Autumn will let me get some content while they’re creating recipes. Wynter liked my idea of letting customers name some cocktails.” She patted my hand. “I’ll head back now and you can finish your errands.”
The subject might be dropped, but I couldn’t escape the notion I’d let her down. She had a point. I just couldn’t put myself out there, and I’d rather not revisit why. “Let me walk you to your car.” I took her empty coffee mug and plate to the bin by the trash and followed her out.
She went to the driver’s door and I propped my hand on it. I was playing with fire, but I also couldn’t pass up a valid reason to kiss her.
She tilted her face up and I leaned down. I kept the touch to a mere brush of our lips. Any more and I’d end up pinning her to the door and plundering her mouth. All in the name of putting on a show.
“See you in a bit,” I said as I stepped back.
She bit her lower lip. “See you.”
I stood on the sidewalk and watched her go. Now I’d have to drive around town for half an hour because I had no damn errands to run.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Ruby
Diners packed Curly’s. Every table was full. Tenor and I had been seated in the middle, close to the front. Everyone who entered would turn from the hostess booth and see us. I’d heard about Curly’s seating preferences from the Baileys, but this was the first I’d witnessed it.
The mayor was sitting at the table next to us. Bourbon Canyon royalty, front and center.
The gaze of other customers burned into me. In the coffee shop, I had felt the weight of others’ curiosity. Here, the load was amplified, and I didn’t miss a few of the envious glances from various women.
I had gotten one of the most coveted bachelors.
As much as I wanted to gloat, I couldn’t. Tenor tried to appear at ease, but his shoulders were rigid and he’d pushed his glasses up three times in the last two minutes.
This was the same man who’d given me two sweet kisses at Mountain Perks, though there’d been fewer witnesses.
“We did not have to come here tonight,” I said quietly and snagged a bun. If he wanted to go, I had to get them while they were warm.
“It’s just taking some getting used to.” He pushed the menu to the side. He’d never cracked it open. “I get to show off the prettiest woman in here.”
I laughed, but warmth packed in the places around the soft bun and maple bourbon butter in my belly. I’d put on the red handkerchief dress I’d worked in last night and paired it with ballet flats. I was extra short compared to Tenor, but his hot look had said he could gobble me in one bite.
Again, he could, but he wouldn’t.
A woman walked by who was probably between my age and Tenor’s. She had long dark hair hanging down her back in a braid and shrewd eyes. Her gaze caught on Tenor, then she glanced at me and did a double take.
She stopped next to me. “Are you Ruby?”
Surprised, I nodded.
She didn’t smile. “Madison Townsend.”
“Oh. Nice to meet you!” I held out a hand.
A line formed between her brows, but she eventually shook my hand. Her grip was firm, no-nonsense.
“I’m really sorry about any miscommunication,” I said. “I’m happy to talk to you if you change your mind.”
“It’s not my mind that would have to change.” Her gaze softened only slightly. “You might want to steer clear of Flatlanders though. Scott thinks you’re a spy.”
A spy? Shock heated the back of my neck. “I’m sorry.”
She waved me off. “I just don’t want trouble, and you’re clearly with the Baileys.”
“Just one Bailey,” Tenor said evenly.
“Of course.” Madison’s smile was saccharine sweet. “We all know Teller doesn’t stick with one woman for long.”
“Maybe it’s because Scooter will try to marry her,” he said without missing a beat.
Red infused Madison’s cheeks. “Both of them lost with that one.” She whisked herself away, heading to the back of the restaurant.
“I hate to say she’s right,” Tenor said.
“What was that about?”
“Scooter married Teller’s ex, but they weren’t exes when Scooter started sleeping with her. Madison was the one who told Teller, and from the way he tells it, she enjoyed breaking the news.”
Ouch. “That doesn’t help the bad blood.” I thought more about what Madison had said. “Is Teller a player?” I shook my head. “Sorry. It’s none of my business.”
I hadn’t seen that side of Teller. There were other single women who worked at Copper Summit, but Teller and Tenor—until me—were nothing but professional around them.
“No. He’s decisive about what he does and doesn’t want, and he won’t make any promises. He also doesn’t date much.” Tenor shrugged. “It’s hard to date a lot in a small town. Not many options.”
Or in Tenor’s case, he didn’t want to risk getting shamed for his interests again. I would not be doing that. Everything about Tenor was interesting. “Do you have other games you play? I don’t think I could get into Warhammer, but is there anything else? Cards? Board games?”
His expression tightened. “I joined the board game club in middle school.”
“That’s cool. What was your favorite?”
He stared at me.
Suddenly nervous, I took a drink of my water. Had I said something wrong?
“I got a lot of shit for being in the board game club,” he admitted.
I wrinkled my nose. “People find anything to step on to make themselves feel better.”
He relaxed. “Trivia games were my favorite. And Jenga. Now I have a closetful.”
I smiled. “Only a closet?” His Warhammer collection spilled beyond an entire room.
He chuckled. “I might have to add on just for them. Tate’s oldest, Chance, comes to play. He’ll hang out with me, Lane, and Cruz sometimes, so he’s not always lumped in with the younger kids.”
“Let’s play some tonight.”
He pushed his glasses up. “You want our date to be Curly’s and a board game?”
“Sounds fun.”
His expression turned calculating. “I think we should add some stakes.”
Tenor
I placed a green chip on the Sequence board. “That’s five in a row. Take your shirt off.”
Ruby blinked and pursed her red lips. “You did not—” My diagonal line of green chips couldn’t be denied. A scandalized gasp left her. “Another joker? You are too damn lucky!” She’d already lost her pants in the last game—after having dressed in her pajama top and bottoms when I’d suggested the stakes.
She closed her eyes and sucked in a breath. Still squeezing her eyelids shut, she ripped her shirt off. I drank her in. A pale-yellow lace bra cupped her creamy tits. She peeled her eyes open.
“Now that’s incentive to win a game.” I discreetly adjusted myself. How easy would it be to haul her to the back bedroom? If I asked, would she get herself off again? Would she let me watch?
I shouldn’t have tossed down the wager, but a small part of me feared she’d be bored by a dinner-and-board-game date night. Another part of me was just a selfish guy with a sexy woman under his roof.
Her full tits jiggled with a shiver.
