Bourbon Runaway (Bourbon Canyon), page 21
“How many kids does Tate have now?”
“Three. Brinley’s almost the perfect age for tea parties, but she’s kind of shy when we all get together and there’s a ton of adults. Darin’s not even a year old and he’s fun, but he’s not all about getting squooshed by Aunt Summer. He’d rather be eating pebbles off the ground.”
“You have a big family.”
“Yeah.” I lay back down and he curled me into him, my back to his front. “It’s pretty great.”
He didn’t respond. I ran my fingers between his. Questions piled up on my tongue. The one I wanted to ask most was—did he want kids? Did he think a big family was great like I did?
I’d almost lost my entire family, and I had lost my parents. Then I’d gained a new set of parents who’d helped me deal with the pain of losing my birth parents. My siblings had doubled. I loved my big, opinionated crew.
Jonah and Eli hadn’t been as close as my brothers were, and then Eli had been gone. Did a family like mine intimidate Jonah when he’d been on the fringes until the accident?
I didn’t know the answers and something kept me from asking. Jonah had reclaimed a part of himself by coming here and taking me out, but he was just starting his journey. I’d been stuck waiting in the same spot since I’d finished college and started working at the distillery.
This thing between us was new. I’d wait before we delved into discussions about the future. And maybe when I brought up the topic, I wouldn’t be so worried about the answers.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Jonah
Snow was melting and the weather forecast was clear. It would’ve been a good evening to travel and meet Summer after she got home from work. A month of going to Bozeman each weekend for dates and overnights had gone by. I wasn’t behind on work, but I’d had to halt side projects and focus on my orders since I was gone every weekend. It had gutted me to tell Summer I had to stay home, but the bar-height table and four matching stools made from repurposed barrels wouldn’t finish themselves. I needed to get them done and packaged. The delivery truck could pick them up Monday morning.
I would’ve had extra time, but I’d used up what cushion I had buried in Summer’s sweet body on Saturdays and most Sundays. As it was, I would have to work through Saturday, barely finish Sunday morning, and spend all afternoon packaging each item. The payout was the biggest I’d commissioned. I couldn’t fuck this up.
Yet I was worried about messing up what I had going with Summer. Would she think I was like her prick of an ex—too busy with work I thought was more important than her?
She had become very important to me. I couldn’t let her down, but she also deserved more than a mountain bum.
I put a screw in the seat of one of the stools. The whir of the drill filled the silence. I placed another screw and the shop door opened. I jerked, the drill whirred, and the screw clattered to the floor. “Shit.”
Who the hell was—
“Knock, knock.” Summer pushed her sunglasses on top of her head. Her hair was back in a ponytail and more of her strawberry tint was growing out along her scalp. She smiled and sauntered toward me.
My pulse picked up and my dick came to attention. The weeks were long when she wasn’t around. My podcasts weren’t as interesting, and I didn’t look forward to going into the house for a bite to eat.
I drank her in. I’d thought I’d have to get through the weekend and then another week before I could see her again. “Hey.” I set the drill down. “You came?”
She smiled shyly and shoved her hands in her pockets, walking toward me. “I thought I could travel this time. I know you’re busy and I don’t have to stay in your house—”
I caught her around her elbow and tugged her toward me. “You’ll be in my bed.” I crushed her mouth with mine. She tasted of minty gum and heaven.
Her giggle passed right into me, and she clung to my shoulders. She pulled away and gazed up at me with those luminous brown eyes. “So you’re okay that I invited myself?”
“Since when haven’t you invited yourself?”
She playfully swatted my shoulder. “Have you eaten yet?” I shook my head and she smirked. “I knew it.”
When she wasn’t in the house, I didn’t care how often I went in to eat. If she wasn’t on the other side of the table, the food was less appealing. “You don’t have to cook for me.”
“I want to, and I don’t want to bother you. I know you’re serious about getting this order done.” Her gaze landed on the table. “Oh my god. Is that it?” She pulled away and I instantly missed her heat and her strawberries-and-sugar scent. She rounded the table, staring at it like she was in a museum and that damn thing was the special exhibit.
“You can touch it.”
She flashed a grin my way. “I like touching your things.”
I liked when her fingers were on my things.
“Wow.” She clasped her hands behind her back despite my words. “Star Wars?”
“Yep.” The client had sent collector’s items of old Star Wars toys with specific instructions for how to place the X-wings and TIE fighters in the channel of epoxy between the slabs of walnut. Special orders were more stressful than pieces I made via my own inspiration, but this table had made me sweat a few times. My blood pressure wouldn’t return to normal until I got notice that the set had arrived to the buyer unharmed.
I hadn’t even taken pictures. If I put that shit on my website, then I’d get more requests. More precious objects to cover in epoxy. More stress. No, thanks. I didn’t do this job to worry about epically fucking up someone’s valuables.
“Impressive.”
“Thanks,” I said impassively. I was proud of the job, but a thousand what-ifs were running through my head and I wasn’t used to the pressure. I didn’t like it.
She pivoted to the chairs. I had four lined up against the wall, ready to be packaged. “Those are so cool.”
I watched her swivel from one side to the other. She had to be picturing how it’d all go together.
“Seriously. That’s some talent.”
“I’m glad you got to see it. It’s the last special order like this I’m taking.”
Confusion lined her brow. “Why?”
“No more working with someone’s family heirlooms.” I nodded toward the table. “Those toys were the customer’s dad’s collectibles. He passed five years ago.”
“That’s such a sweet way to remember a parent’s passion.” She crossed to me again and tucked her arms under mine. “You made him something he’ll treasure forever.”
The anvil was back on my chest. “I just make furniture.”
Her smirk was knowing, like she saw right through me to the way I’d cussed for eight minutes straight when I’d thought I’d fucked up an X-wing position. “Hamburgers tonight?”
“I don’t have any thawed.”
“That’s fine. I have a salad to make while they’re thawing.”
I hadn’t restocked the fresh veggie supply since she’d surprised me with groceries. She must’ve brought more like last time, this time without shocking me fresh out of the shower. “Keeping me scurvy-free, one salad at a time.”
She swatted my ass. “I plan to keep those hips mobile too.”
Summer
Since it was early and Jonah was spending his Saturday in the shop, I stopped at the bar inside Copper Summit to chat with Autumn. She usually arrived early to take care of the books. When I walked in, our neighbor Jason was sitting at the bar. Autumn had her head bowed over a tablet as she poked around.
When she glanced up, her lips curved. “Hey, you. Been a while.”
I didn’t often go more than a month without coming home, but having Jonah to myself without the town’s opinions or my family hovering had been too alluring to pass up. Mama knew. Teller and Autumn. If they’d told the others, I hadn’t heard about it. “I know. I’m a bad aunt and sister.”
Jason craned his neck over his shoulder as I wove my way through the empty tables. By the end of the night, this place would be half full. During the summer, the bar would be packed, but early spring was only the beginning of peak tourist season.
“Look what the cat dragged in.” Jason cackled.
“I made the cat work for it.” I gave Jason a half hug. He smelled like fresh pine. His hat bumped my head and he chuckled and righted it. Jason made a bad first impression. A guy in grungy clothing with shaggy whiskers and a dirty hat who was having a drink minutes after the doors barely opened. He was fond of announcing it was five o’clock somewhere when he arrived.
That first impression was wrong. Jason liked to have a drink and shoot the shit with Teller or Tenor, whoever was around. He ranched all day, called it early once in a while, and came to Copper Summit to wind down. He was usually gone by six after one drink only, sometimes staying until seven if he caught one of my brothers. Jason’s girls were sweet and he doted on them and his wife.
“I was just leaving.” He pushed away. “Glad I could catch you. You girls are always a breath of fresh air.” He strode out with strong strides that would also shock anyone who assumed he was a bar magnet, but Jason wasn’t that much older than Tate.
Autumn took the cash he’d left behind and shook her head. “That guy slips me a five like he’s Grandpa Bailey.”
I giggled and slid onto a stool. I spun to watch Jason get into his pickup and drive away. “Who’s got the fancy car? I thought for a minute Myles was escaping diaper duty to have a drink.”
Autumn snorted. “I think you’ll have to pry diaper duty out of his cold, dead hands.”
I laughed around a spear of envy. Lucky Wynter. I caught Autumn’s gaze and she smothered the same wistfulness.
I could ignore what I saw and how I felt, but I’d been away for what felt like forever and I’d been wrapped up too much in Jonah. “Someday, you’ll find someone.”
She shrugged and stabbed at the screen. Then she slipped the cover onto the tablet and sighed. “It’s fine. I’m just . . . I don’t know. Maybe I need to get another cat.”
I stood and went around the bar. I dug through the bottom cupboard for one of the bottles we saved from our special batches. In this case, it was the first bottle of Summer’s Summit ever produced. The line was sold everywhere, but Daddy had saved the first bottle for its namesake. I kept mine here, knowing I’d be with family if I had a drink from it.
Autumn already had two short glasses ready. When we drank together and commiserated, we had our bourbon neat. I poured a finger for each of us and tucked the bottle away, then returned to my seat.
I lifted my glass. “Here’s to our future families.”
“I feel like I should hand in my feminism card whenever I bemoan my single status.” She returned the toast and we each took a sip. She closed her eyes. “Mm, that’s good stuff.”
Flavor burst over my tongue. Notes of caramel, vanilla, and smoky oak. All Copper Summit bourbon was quality, but my line was my favorite. I might be biased. “It’s okay to want a family. It’s okay to feel panic like it’s not going to happen.” It’d better be. I was feeling the same.
“I know. Logically, I do.”
“I’m a boss babe, and I still want a family.”
“You’re also a nepo baby.” She took another drink.
“True.” I had walked right into my job, a position I enjoyed. If I’d had to work and compete for it, would I feel differently? Maybe, but I also knew how precious family was and I wanted my own.
“You’re not exactly giving the best pep talk since you’ve been hot and heavy with Jonah.”
I set my glass on the bar top and stared at the amber liquid. “It’s only been a little over a month of actual dating. It’s not like we’ve talked about marriage and kids.”
“You talked about marriage, just not yours and his.” She flashed a devious grin.
I mock glared at her. “Ha ha.”
She kept looking at me as she took another sip. “Are you afraid to discuss the future with him?”
Yes. So scared. “I stormed into his life. He’s gone from being a recluse to a sex god. What if he realizes what he’s missed out on and wants to see others?” I took a gulp of my drink.
“Jonah was never a ‘see others’ type.” She wrinkled her nose. “From what I remember, he was an ‘if you can keep up’ type. Jackie got tired of trying. He left any other dates in the dust.”
I didn’t think he’d return to his previous personality full force, but that didn’t quell my concern. “His life is in a period of upheaval.”
She polished off her bourbon, took my glass, and drained it too. That was fine. I didn’t want to feel like I was drinking my worries away. “Sounds like another talk you’re avoiding.”
I scowled at her while she ran a small sink full of water and washed the glasses. “Another talk?”
“I think you’ve been neglecting to have important discussions with the men in your life. Like what you really want for a wedding.”
“Boyd was different.” The arch of her red brow cut me off. I’d still be in shitty relationships if I avoided hard discussions completely. Maybe I just delayed them. “I am not avoiding the talk. There’s a right time to have one.”
“Remember that one guy you dated before Boyd?”
I’d had a few serious boyfriends as an adult. Boyd had been the longest and the most serious, which was saying a lot since, looking back, our relationship had had as much substance as cotton balls. “Which one?”
She screwed her face up. “Um . . . Jerry? Gerald?”
“Garrett?” I said dryly.
She snapped her fingers. “Right. The guy who loved to smoke meat and drink beer.”
“I like smoked meat.”
“You didn’t tell him that spending the weekend building DIY smokers was not your thing. And that you didn’t like beer.”
“I didn’t like his beer.”
Her gaze was steady. “My point is you didn’t talk to him about something that might end the relationship.”
“Smoked meat should not ruin a relationship.” I scoffed.
“It would’ve with Jerry.”
“Garrett.”
“How convenient he moved for work, and when he hinted that you could move with him, you gave him a tour of the family distillery.”
I had laid the family part on really thick. “Fine. I might be a little scared. Compared to Boyd—and Garrett—what I feel for Jonah is . . .” Everything. I wanted it all. If he didn’t, then what?
She opened her mouth but raised voices caught our attention. She snapped it shut and we both cocked our heads.
I couldn’t make out what they were saying, but they were on the move. I swiveled in my seat to look out the window. Whoever it was hadn’t left the building yet, but the guy with the nice car must be arguing with one or more of my brothers.
Finally, a guy shouted, “You cannot take advantage of an old drunk like that!”
“He’s stone-cold sober when he’s talking to us.” That was Teller.
“You Baileys think you have the right to everything.”
“If he doesn’t sell to us, he’ll sell to someone else.” This was from Tenor.
“He’ll sell to goddamn me.” This time the stranger’s voice was a low growl. “That land has been in my family for generations.”
“You’ll have to take that up with him,” Teller said with more than a hint of defensiveness.
A door banged open. Autumn and I jumped.
A tall man’s powerful strides ate up the pavement as he stormed to the sleek black car. His charcoal suit was tailored to highlight his long, lean body and wide shoulders. The fading sun glinted off his ink-black hair. He ripped the driver’s side door open, and I was afraid he’d take the damn thing off. With a parting glare that should’ve melted glass, he slid behind the wheel and peeled away.
Teller’s comments from over a month ago about buying more land ran through my head. I knew who that man was. “Gideon James.”
Interest crept into Autumn’s expression. “Whoa.”
“Yeah.” I had the hots for Jonah, but I could acknowledge when another man was fine.
“Whoa,” Autumn breathed again. “I think my ovaries just packed their bags to follow him,” she whispered.
I chortled. The spell of Gideon James was broken. For me at least. Autumn’s starstruck gaze was still plastered to the window.
“Apparently,” I said, “he has opinions about his dad selling to us.”
She blinked. “What? We’re doing business with that guy?” I didn’t miss the interest in her voice.
“Not him. His dad must be selling without talking to him.” Empathy welled for the man. If Daddy had sold it all before he’d passed, I’d have been upset. If he hadn’t talked to us first, I’d have been devastated.
“That sucks.” She shook her head like she was ridding herself of the last remnants of a spell. “He’s going to hate each and every one of us.”
Yep. Copper Summit might be buying the land, but each of my siblings and I were the owners.
Teller entered the bar, his expression tight. Tenor was behind him, pushing up his glasses. He gave me a half wave when he saw I was there.
“Looks like you two need a drink.” Autumn put a mixing jar on the counter.
Teller blew out a breath and took the stool next to mine. “Make it girly. I want it so dainty that a guy like Gideon would throw a clot knowing I drank it after our talk.”
Tenor sat on the other side of me. I settled in. I wouldn’t have another drink, but I’d stay and let Autumn’s advice filter into the recesses of my mind. Maybe she was right. But maybe it was too early to ask Jonah what he wanted out of us. After all, he wasn’t even willing to be seen on a date with me in Bourbon Canyon.
Jonah had packaged the tables and stools in protective covering and padding and hauled them to the loading door. My luggage was packed and I was ready to return to Bozeman. Mama had called while Jonah was finishing up in the shop.
