Bourbon summer, p.19
Bourbon Summer, page 19
He continued to knead up to my ankles. Then he made it to my calves. I melted into the cushions, nothing but a pool of divine relaxation. “You are doing a good job of making sure no one lives up to you.”
He stopped massaging. His mouth was tight and a crease slashed across his brow.
Damn. I’d made things awkward again. Just what I got for getting my hopes up. I scooted upright. His hands were loose around my lower legs. I gingerly lowered my feet to the floor. The crease on his brow deepened.
“I should get to bed.” I rose but he stayed where he was.
“I want to kiss you again.”
It was my turn to freeze. Had I fallen asleep and entered the most wonderful dream? No, if I was dreaming, his mouth would be on mine and I would be under him already. “Why don’t you?”
Pain highlighted the lines on his face. His whole body was rigid. “I don’t want to cross the line. I might not come back.”
Brock and my other exes might have strung me along, but I had never begged. They had asked me for another chance. Tenor wasn’t requesting a first one. He didn’t want a relationship, and he didn’t want to mess around. He wasn’t tiptoeing, he was backtracking. As hard as it was to respect his wishes, I wouldn’t pressure him.
So all I said was “I might not have minded.”
I forced one foot in front of the other until I was closed in the guest bedroom. I exhaled and sagged against the bedroom door. Would he decide the line was worth crossing after all? Would he show me that what sizzled between us was worth the risk? Would he realize I wasn’t like Katrina?
I had never been drawn to a man like I was to him. I wanted him. I could picture it. I could envision us together. Something that I had thought was a girlish fantasy and that he had shown me could be real. But both parties had to be on board and he was pushing my ship away.
Soft movement came from the living room. Muffled footsteps grew closer and ceased outside of my door. My chest rose and fell. Was this it? Would he finally cave to the promise of how good it could be between us?
My lungs stalled the longer time stretched on.
Then movement again. Away from my door and down the hall. His bedroom door clicked shut.
I squeezed my eyes shut and swallowed. A wave of grief washed over me. For what could’ve been, even just for tonight. But mostly for me, for that girl who just wanted someone to want and keep wanting her. Was that too much to ask?
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Tenor
On Sunday night, Mama had invited me over. Cruz and Lane were leaving on Monday. She missed them when they were gone, and every time before they left, she made a big meal as if to remind them they always had a home in Bourbon Canyon.
I scraped the leftover mashed potatoes out of the pot and into a plastic container. Cruz was humming while loading the dishwasher. Lane was helping Mama clear the table.
“Where’s Rubes this weekend?” Lane asked as he carried in a pile of plates to hand off to Cruz.
“She doesn’t like being called that.”
“No kidding?” He sounded surprised. “Dang. Thanks for telling me.”
Lane was a good kid.
He was almost Ruby’s age. Pressure pushed against my temples. A feeling that had plagued me since Thursday morning when I returned home and Ruby had been gone.
What had I expected? I had told her I wanted to kiss her. And then I hadn’t. Nor had I confessed to what I really wanted to do—strip every bit of fabric off her curves, spread her out on my bed, and devour her.
Yeah. I wanted to do a fuck ton more than kiss her. Wasn’t that the whole issue?
I finished with the potatoes and moved on to the gravy. When I was done pouring that into a container for the fridge, I turned. Cruz had his arms crossed and was leaning against the counter, staring at me. Lane had his eyes narrowed on me while rubbing his chin.
“What?” I asked, suddenly cranky.
“We’re just waiting for your answer,” Lane said casually, but worry darkened his blue eyes. “Where’s Ruby?”
“She’s been spending every weekend here.” I searched the kitchen for something to do, but anything I’d need to do it with was blocked by the guys. Damn. “She wants to be home for once.”
“Did she say that?” Cruz asked.
No. I could just tell them now. Rip the bandage off. Ruby and I were over.
What reason would I give them? I bored her? She’d found someone else? We didn’t click? None of those options sat well with me, nor would they buy that we didn’t click after the street dance, when I’d barely let her out of my embrace.
“She’s got family,” I said. Although she’d mentioned her mom was on a workation. And her dad was in Helena. The guys didn’t need details. “She has a life.”
“You haven’t been introduced to her family?” Lane asked. “Does she have siblings?”
I shook my head. The last time I’d met the parents, I had gotten grilled and I’d failed. Then I’d been humiliated in my own hometown. “She’s an only child, and we haven’t been dating long. No need for me to meet them.”
Neither of them nodded.
“Is it a thing?” Lane asked. “That you’re so much older than her?”
“I don’t know,” I answered honestly. We’d never discussed meeting her parents, and now it wasn’t necessary to meet the parents of someone I wasn’t dating. “She said her parents were teens when she was born, so yeah, it might be an issue. I’d be close in age to them.”
Cruz let out a low whistle. “That can up the pucker factor, but it’ll be all right. Someone would have to be a real jackass not to like you.”
It had not been all right once upon a time. “Not if they’re expecting some CEO like Myles or Gideon.”
Lane scoffed. “You’re no different than them. So you don’t wear a suit. You still help run Copper Summit.”
I helped. At least now I had my own place—on land given to me by my dad. I had nothing of my own other than my games. “Not everyone sees it like that.”
“Fuck ’em.” Lane clapped me on the shoulder. “You’re a solid dude, old man.”
“I’m a boring dude, or you wouldn’t call me old man.”
Cruz and Lane exchanged a look that was a whole conversation.
My irritation leaked out. “What?”
“We joke about your mellow life,” Cruz said, “but that’s not why we call you old man.”
Lane nodded. “We started calling you old man because you’ve taught us more than our old man ever did.”
My chest grew tight.
I’d shown these guys the ropes like I’d done with every foster kid who’d stayed with us long enough to learn a little ranching. Cruz and Lane had been young adults when Myles had learned about them, but Mama had welcomed them in and they’d agreed to work for Bailey Beef. They’d never been just employees though.
Cruz crossed his arms. “To be fair, it’s hard to teach us anything from jail.”
“I have that going for me,” I said gruffly.
“Thanks to the Baileys, so do we,” Lane said, his expression sober.
“He’s talking about me,” Cruz added. “I’d have definitely seen the inside of a jail if you hadn’t made me shovel cow shit.”
I smirked. “We used a loader.”
Mama swept into the kitchen. Her lips tipped into a wry grin when she noticed how far we hadn’t gotten with cleanup. “Lane, do you mind taking over for Tenor?” She looked at me. “Get us a couple of glasses. I’ll be on the porch.”
Mama wanted to talk. I ignored the chasm forming in my stomach and did as she asked. With two fingers of Solemn Summit in each rocks glass, I found Mama outside. She slowly rocked in one of the chairs. Another was empty on the other side of a little stand.
I handed off the glass and sat. “What’s on your mind?”
“I was going to ask you the same thing.”
I swirled the amber fluid in my glass. Had I acted differently over dinner? “Nothing.”
“I thought Ruby was going to be with you.”
“She has her own life.”
Mama rocked and took a sip. “Things okay between you two?”
One weekend apart and everyone thought we were over? We were, and that didn’t help my rising frustration. I really should be honest. I was lying to Mama. I had already lied to her. This was my moment to make things right, but I couldn’t. I told Ruby I’d keep her confidence. “It’s not healthy to be together all the time.”
“It’s not,” she agreed. The gentle scrape of her chair mixed with the crickets and frogs. “Teller said you were having fun with her at the dance.”
“Yeah.”
“It’s okay, you know.”
I gripped the armrest of the chair. I wasn’t rocking. Mama was in that mode where she could see right through me. She could open the lid of a mental box I had padlocked for a reason. “What is?”
“To trust her.”
My mental box snapped shut. “I do trust her.” Ruby had put all her confidence in me to treat her right, so that was what I’d set out to do. And I’d let her in. Not intentionally, but she’d catered to me, strip board games and all.
“Mm.” Mama took another drink.
“I do.”
Mama rotated her glass like I had done. “I think you want to. It’s been a long time since you put yourself out there.”
I pried my fingers off the armrest. “It’s not easy.” I’d give Mama that much truth.
“I can’t imagine it is, but it’ll get easier. If she’s the right one, you’ll want to try.”
I started rocking. Our movements were out of sync. I took a drink and gazed into the darkness beyond the circle made by the yard light. Nothing but dark pastures greeted me.
If Ruby was the right one. I’d made a pact with myself. I wouldn’t go through another Katrina. No one would make me feel like I wasn’t good enough again. No one would mock me to my face again. I wasn’t enduring more pitying looks because I was a pathetic bastard. I’d had enough as a kid, and then, because I must not have gotten the message, I had endured more as an adult.
But I was even older, and that came with perks. I could choose who I surrounded myself with. Ruby had been one of those choices—as an employee. As a girlfriend, she’d leave. They always did.
If she’s the right one . . .
I didn’t tell Mama it wasn’t about who was right for me.
But who I was wrong for.
Ruby
I wiped down two newly emptied tables and brought the glasses behind the bar to clean. Only a few customers remained. Tenor’s truck was in the parking lot, but I had yet to see him. I hadn’t heard from him since the night of the street dance.
What did it mean?
The question ricocheted all around my head, leaving dots of fear behind. I knew what it meant. Which was even worse. What I needed was a little acceptance.
For a week, I’d watched my phone, hoping he’d text something as simple as asking me how I was doing. A little can we talk. Or even a what’s up?
My phone had stayed silent.
Wednesday night, I’d foolishly held out hope that I’d see him even though he was never around Wednesday nights.
The two guys remaining rose and pushed in their chairs. Jason gave me a wave. “See ya later, Ruby.”
“Have a good night,” I called at their backs.
I flipped the open sign to off. Tenor had helped me close all but one weekend for the last month, but there was still no sign of him.
I swallowed my disappointment and continued closing duties. Alone. I punched through cashing out the till and sending the reports to Tenor. My heart twisted as I hit send. Just another mundane email to one of my many bosses. A man I was nothing but an employee to.
I shoved my hair off my face. I’d worn a damn skirt today too. I tugged at the blue material. It was a longer skirt with a dress shirt tied at the waist in a country chic style. I thought it made my hips look wide, but after the way Tenor had watched me shake my booty at the dance, I’d been bold.
“Sweet summer child,” I muttered and stacked the clean glasses back on the shelf beside the bar.
Good thing I’d given myself plenty of mental pep talks or I’d be in tears by now. I’d be reliving every breakup speech ever. Instead I heard I want to kiss you again over and over in his deep voice. Not sure that was better.
I took stock of the bottles behind the bar and tapped my chin. “Two bottles of Original.” Talking out loud made me feel less alone.
I replaced those and stood, staring at the rows of bottles. Various pints, fifths, and liters decorated three levels. The most popular lines. Holiday special batches from years past that were only served at this location. The most expensive top-shelf Copper Summit special barrels that were also only sold here. I’d taken so many pictures of this setup for background graphics and stand-alone images.
Seconds ticked by. I gave myself a shake. I was stalling. It was time to go. Tenor wasn’t coming. He was probably waiting for me to leave before he locked up. Avoiding the awkwardness—and me.
I grabbed my purse and rounded the bar.
The door from the lobby opened. I stopped short and my heart crawled into my chest.
Tenor turned into the bar and his gaze found me immediately. He crossed to me, his powerful thighs knocking a table out of the way. Intensity rode across his face and along his hard jaw.
Alarm fired in my veins the closer he got without saying a word.
“Is everything okay?” I tipped my head back as he approached and I inspected his face.
“No.” He wrapped an arm around my waist and yanked me flush with him. His gaze bored into mine. “I’m tired of pretending I don’t think about flipping those flirty skirts up and plunging into you whenever I want.”
I drew in a breath, shock rebounding in my chest, making my heartbeat stutter. He hadn’t tiptoed into the bar! “Then why don’t you?”
A low growl rumbled in his chest. “I don’t have any condoms. I thought I could—” He grimaced and jerked his gaze away, his jaw grinding. “I thought I could stay strong, or that not buying them would be enough to make me behave. You deserve better than me.”
“Good thing I’m on birth control.” I fisted my hands in his chest and rose to my tiptoes. I ghosted my lips along his jawline. “I happen to find your control very sexy.” Frustrating. But hot. And only because he was right here, right now, admitting he couldn’t stay away. “Shouldn’t I get to choose who I deserve? Shouldn’t I get a chance to prove that it’s you?”
A growl emanated from him again. “Ruby.” His eyes searched mine. “Tell me no and I’ll fucking leave and never bother you again. Because you can do better. I swear you can.”
He’d already been the best. I wasn’t interested in searching for what he was already giving me—care, dedication, loyalty, and steamy kisses. Anything more than that was already like winning a lifetime of free books. “I’m telling you yes, Warhammer.”
The desire in his eyes blazed, blowing the pupils until I could fall into him and lose myself. He took my purse from my arms and dumped it on the bar top. Then he lifted me to a stool and took his glasses off. He braced his arms on either side of me. His gaze stroked over my face and he lowered his head.
His lips touched mine, a slow, searching press that had me leaning back until my spine hit the edge of the counter. Even more pressure and I was opening for him. I kept my hands on his shoulders. His restraint was a tangible thing. Energy pulsated under my fingers, his muscles vibrating.
He plundered my mouth, twining his tongue with mine, and put a hand around the back of my neck. His thumb stroked along the edge of my jaw. All I could do was hang on. A little whimper left me. I wanted more, but I also worried I’d combust from the lust burning through my veins. My skin felt tight and much too hot. I squirmed under him, seeking some relief for the needy thrum between my legs.
Another deep sound rumbled from him. He kissed down my jaw and dragged his hand over my collarbone, between my breasts, to the base of the white shirt knotted at my waist.
We both watched him trail his fingers over the knot.
“I’m going to enjoy unwrapping you,” he murmured.
“Here?” I asked, breathless. Did I care?
No. I did not.
“I shut the cameras off.”
“You planned this?” I’d closed down thinking he would always be risk averse, that I would never be enough of a prize, and he’d planned to scramble my brains and my body.
“I was just going to ask you out. On a real date.” He tugged the hem of my shirt free. It fell loose. He deftly worked on the lowest button. “Either way, I wanted a private conversation between us, and to not get your rejection on camera.”
I could’ve laughed. Me? Telling him no? Tenor could ask me to plan a bank heist and I would if it meant getting his mouth on me again.
“So . . .” He flicked open two more buttons. A strip of my stomach was exposed. “You can relax and let me unwrap you like my very own birthday gift.”
The final button came free and the ends of the shirt fell to the side. He looked at my plain white bra like it was the sexiest strip of lace he’d ever seen.
He hooked a finger over the top of the cup of one and tugged it down. My nipple popped free. Appreciation darkened his eyes. He brushed a thumb over the tip and a shiver whispered over my skin.
“I knew they’d be fucking perfect.” He did the same on the other side. My nipples were puckered, begging for attention, but I couldn’t move. He gripped my hips and bent to draw one nipple into his mouth.
It was my turn to brace myself on the bar. I held on as he licked and palmed my breasts. The pressure inside me grew with no outlet. I squirmed again, seeking to find some relief.
He lifted his gaze and my pearled bud popped out of his mouth. “You’re a needy girl, aren’t you?”
“It’s not enough.”
His expression changed, the heat in his eyes consuming me. He dropped to his knees. His face was at my crotch and I almost sat up, but he still had me in his grip. “Don’t move.” His voice was low. Commanding. “I want you just like this. Open to me. Nowhere to go.”
