At the far end of the building was a nondescript locked steel door with a card swipe and keypad that needed to be navigated before it opened. Mal unlocked the door and held it open for Colt.
They crossed a small patch of fenced-off grass before Mal unlocked a chain-link gate to a larger fenced area and let Colt through. Mal followed, then closed and locked the gate behind them. They walked up a knoll covered in short, lush grass and took a path around the side. There was an opening along the far side with layered rock forming the entrance.
It was necessary for them to duck to walk inside. The air was filled with a fresh scent and the soothing sound of bubbling water. Mal stopped inside the opening, and Colt saw then it had been shaped and carved into a nice squared-off natural doorway with bricks lining and supporting it. Square flashlights and hard hats with lights hung from a wooden framework attached to the rock. Mal took one flashlight and handed another to Colt.
“We’re not going far enough to need the hard hats, but if you’ll feel more comfortable….”
“I trust you,” Colt said.
Mal grinned and nodded to an area of flat rock. “When I was a kid, I brought stadium chairs and cushions in here. I had a thermal chest over there.” He pointed to one spot tucked away near the cave wall. “And lanterns all over. I thought I had my own palace.”
“Like a tree fort without the tree—and underground,” Colt said.
“Exactly. I’m sure you’ve heard around the distillery that great whiskey starts with the best spring water?” Mal asked. He hopped lightly from one pile of rocks to another, then turned to wait for Colt. He waved to a stream of water and sat on the rocks at the edge.
“Yes.” Colt settled beside Mal and shined the flashlight around the interior of the cave.
“My great-great-granddaddy owned a little piece of land he’d staked out and settled. It was about twice the size of what’s inside this fence. He had a small shack on the top of this hill, but it was what was under here that he was interested in. The best whiskey and moonshine comes from the purest water.” Mal pointed deeper into the cave, and Colt swung his flashlight in that direction. “A few hundred yards down is a spring. All this water comes from it. He didn’t know why, but it’s got a much cleaner taste.” He leaned down, scooped up a handful of the water, and sipped it.
Colt mimicked Mal’s actions. “Wow. I always thought it was a gimmick, but this water really does taste fresher, better. It’s cold.”
“That’s because the spring’s source is nearly a thousand feet down, where it’s cool. This whole area is littered with limestone, and when the water travels over it, the limestone leaches the impurities and iron from the water. He wasn’t the only one with the idea. Other distillers knew the same secret. My great-great-granddaddy and Jack Daniel, the man, grew up together. They both learned the craft together, and when Daniel bought land with his spring, my great-great-granddaddy set out to find his own.” Mal shrugged. “Or so the legend goes.”
“So he landed here, and the rest is history?” Colt asked.
“Yep.” Mal nodded and laughed. “The one thing distillers like more than good ’shine or whiskey is a good tall tale. I’m sure it’s basically the truth, embellished.”
“This is an amazing place. Thank you for showing it to me,” Colt said.
“You’re welcome. It’s one of my favorite places, and it’s important to distilling whiskey and ’shine.”
Colt held up one finger and grinned. “A skill you did promise to teach me, and you are the best.”
“Oh geez.” Mal rolled his eyes and shook his head, but it was clear he liked Colt’s admiration. “I did indeed. We’ll need some downtime for that, and you’re getting quite popular. Have you seen the list of requests Audrey has?”
“No. She offered to show me, but honestly, I’d rather not know so I can concentrate on the ‘assignments’ she gives me. I do have a confession, however.” Colt ran one hand through his bangs and ducked his head a bit. “I hope you’re not angry.”
“Maybe you should confess, then let me decide?”
Colt made a face, then admitted, “I like the moonshine better than the whiskey. Especially all the wild berry flavors.”
“Well, then, that’s what you’ll learn first. I think it’s important to have a passion and genuine love of what you make. It’s the most important ingredient. I need an assistant distiller in training. Who knows, maybe if you stick around long enough, you’ll take over the moonshine line.” Mal bumped Colt’s elbow with his own and teased, “But don’t get cocky about it.” He stood, offered Colt his hand, and pulled him to his feet. “Time we should get back and be on the road.”
“Oh, Mr. Grice will love that part about the moonshine,” Colt grumbled. He rested his hand on Mal’s shoulder when Mal put his free hand on Colt’s hip.
Mal sighed. “Yeah, about Jeffery. He and some other members of the board are concerned about our relationship.”
“What does that mean?” Colt dropped his hands to his sides.
“It means people forget I’m a person, not simply a company. Negotiating the parts of my life that are private and the parts that are business can be like playing hopscotch in a damn minefield.”
“I’m not doing anything wrong.” Colt tried not to sound terse but didn’t succeed.
“No, you’re not. Neither am I. That’s the point,” Mal said. “You let me worry about Jeffery. He was probably born a grumpy old man, he’s still a grumpy old man, and someday he’ll be a really old grumpy old man. But he’s very good at his job.” He smirked. “However, so am I.” He leaned forward and pecked Colt’s cheek, clearly seeking forgiveness.
They stood there for another minute, silently looking at each other. Colt’s cock swelled enough to be uncomfortable inside his pants. His cheeks warmed, and he glanced away. “We… should….” He jerked the thumb of his free hand over his shoulder.
Mal let go of him slowly and nodded. “We should.” When he stepped away, Colt looked down out of reflex. Mal’s pants were a tad tight as well.
They walked back to the house in silence, though every few steps their hands brushed together or their shoulders bumped. Colt realized Mal was the first person he’d been so comfortable around in maybe his entire life.
FOR perhaps the first time in his life, Mal was a bundle of indecision.
One half of his brain kept screaming twenty-four and employee. The other half shouted equally as loudly real friend and mutual attraction. Like many people in his position, he’d learned to spot fake overtures of friendship. What was growing between him and Colt was true affection.
The board can go fuck themselves. That might loosen them up a bit.
Was he using Colt’s age and the fact he worked as Kensington’s public face as an excuse?
He was alone in his suite, preparing for the next trip. Looking at his reflection in his mirror, he muttered, “Be honest, Mal Kensington. Yes, you are making excuses.”
Mal squirted shaving cream into his palm, smeared the lather across his face, and started shaving. “You had a few bad experiences when you were a teenager and in college, and let’s be clear, Mal, they weren’t that horrible. Everyone has bad experiences from time to time.” He rinsed his razor and turned his head to the side so he could swipe it along his jaw. “There is no reason to avoid a relationship with Colt.”
Finished with shaving, he stripped and started the water running in the shower to warm up. “I have a billion dollars and still use an old-school, much-too-small hot water tank. I need to get a tankless one.”
While the water ran, he padded to his bedroom, grabbed his phone, and emailed the domestic staff to arrange the hot water tank replacement. By the time he returned, the water was just starting to get hot enough. The addition of Colt to the house was bringing lots of changes to Mal’s life.
“Change can be good. Isn’t that what Mom always told you?” Mal said and stepped into the shower. “I’m getting a better hot water source because of him. S
ee, Mal, change is good. Having Colt around is good.”
He poured shower gel into his hand and began rubbing the soap all over his body. The memory of Colt’s lips and how his hip felt under Mal’s hand earlier sprang to the forefront of his mind. The next thought he had was what Colt might look like naked, wet, and covered with soap.
That did it. The hard-on pestering him earlier came back with a vengeance; it meant business and wanted satisfaction. Mal closed his eyes and leaned against the shower wall. Sighing a harsh breath, he gripped his cock. He didn’t start slowly and let the pressure and delight build. No, not this time. Gripping hard, he stroked himself and used his other hand to rub his balls. Using his thumb, he pushed at his testicles while he pulled down on his cock and ran one finger through his slit. Shouting, he came onto the shower floor.
He dragged in a few huge breaths and rinsed off quickly before washing his hair and shaking it out. Cool water sprayed across him, and he laughed. “Damn, I really need a new hot water tank.”
Mal shut the water off and shook stray drops from his hands before he left the shower and grabbed a towel. He dried off with enough force to make his skin tingle. Pointing at himself in the bathroom mirror, he reminded himself, “Getting into something with Colt could go south fast.” His shoulders slumped, and he shook his head and touched the spot on his cheek where Colt had kissed him. “Well, I guess you just proved that.”
He dressed and headed out of the house. Everyone was waiting around the SUV and two vans when Mal wandered into the garage. He looked around at their expectant faces. “Hey, I’m the boss. It’s not as though if I’m late, you’ll leave without me,” Mal said.
“Next time we might,” Audrey chided.
“I hired some actual private security. They’ll meet us at the college and go with us to Nashville,” Mal explained.
“Good idea. Colt is getting popular enough to attract attention from all sorts of people,” Audrey said and held out a tablet. “Our official Facebook page—and Colt’s—has thousands of new likes since Colt started making public appearances. There are even fan-run Facebook pages sprouting up. They’re asking for a photo shoot, naked. Twitter and the official Pinterest for the distillery have taken off with people following Colt.”
“They—who is they—want me to do what?” Colt sputtered.
“Oh goodness.” Phillipe exhaled, then grunted when Gwen elbowed him.
“Don’t worry, you’re not posing naked.” Mal took the tablet, and Colt leaned over his shoulder to see it as well.
“Holy fucking crap!” Colt burst out. He looked around at them, blushed, and said, “I’m sorry.”
Audrey laughed. “Those were almost my exact words. I added a few more expletives. You becoming a sort of celebrity was something we didn’t anticipate.”
Handing the tablet back, Mal added, “Maybe we’ll keep those security people for the house too.”
“It probably wouldn’t be a bad idea,” Audrey said. “I’ll arrange it.”
As before, Mal and Colt rode in the SUV while Audrey, Gwen, and now Phillipe rode in the vans transporting luggage, clothes, and the gifts Colt would be presenting at the dedication. The college Mal had donated money to for a new building was a few hours away, near the North Carolina–Virginia border. They arrived about an hour before the building christening and the presentation of scholarships was to begin. They pulled onto the campus to find large banners welcoming Kensington’s Distillery and Still House. Those things Mal expected.
What he didn’t expect was the groups of people, only some of whom were students, he guessed, waiting outside the newly constructed building.
“Does dedicating a building usually attract this much attention?” Colt asked as he peered out a window.
“Not usually,” Mal said. “When I was in school, the admin bribed students to show up with free food.” His phone rang. “Audrey, you’ve been to a lot of these things. Is this normal?”
“Oh hell no,” she said. “No one goes to these events that doesn’t have to. There was an announcement on our site and in social media, I’m sure the school did the same thing…. But I’ve never seen a crowd like this unless someone shows up who made a movie. A big movie.” Mal heard a beep, and Audrey added, “I’ll call you back. It’s campus security.”
A minute later the vans in front of them turned into a parking lot and drove around to the back of the building. Their SUV followed, and a couple of people waved them to a spot next to the building. Mal was more than a little relieved to see the security people he’d hired waiting alongside a group who were clearly school administrators.
Despite the crowds and very unexpected attention, the whole day went smoothly. Colt delivered the prepared speech flawlessly to more spectators than they ever anticipated. Afterward he patiently signed whiskey bottles people showed up with while he chatted with them.
Mal leaned close to Audrey. “Since when does anyone want whiskey autographed? Some of those bottles don’t have anything in them.”
“Since now,” Audrey whispered. She gave his arm a squeeze and smiled. “I think it’s exciting and darn cool.”
“Who keeps empty bottles of booze? Even my booze? The bottles are nice, but….” Mal’s voice trailed off when Audrey laughed.
“Apparently people who want them signed,” Audrey said.
“Huh.” Mal stared at the group and shook his head. “Maybe we should sell sealed empty bottles with special labels to make them easier to sign.”
“They could come with different-colored Sharpies,” Audrey added. “I’ll call Jeffery and have it started.”
If this was going on after a party and a few other small public appearances, Mal could only imagine what would happen after the commercial aired and Colt showed up on The Tonight Show. Putting a “face” to Kensington Distillery and Still House had created a mushroom cloud none of them had expected, least of all Mal. In a world full of movie stars, politicians, and musicians, people involved with a company that made whiskey—even exceptional whiskey—weren’t who he thought of when celebrity status came to mind. It was both humbling and frightening. Mostly frightening.
Chapter Eight
“YOU know, when I was about eight years old, I used to dream of being a movie star, one of those tough guys like Hugh Jackman. He kicks ass,” Colt said and stifled a yawn. He and Mal were alone in the elevator going down to the parking garage. “But after spending what feels like days making a thirty-second commercial, I’m over that.”
Mal laughed and put his hand between Colt’s shoulder blades. “And imagine, we get to go back and finish it tomorrow too.”
Colt groaned. “Is that a pep talk? Because if it is, you need practice.”
“Hungry?” Mal asked.
“For the last hour, I thought I’d pass out my blood sugar is so low,” Colt said. He leaned back a bit against Mal’s hand.
“You really didn’t get to see much of Nashville when we were here before. How about I show you some sights?”
“We can do that?” Colt’s mood lifted immediately. “What about people recognizing me? What about when the board finds out we went on a date?”
“Sure, we can do that. You and me. We’ll ditch the security and the others and listen to some amazing music. This is Nashville. There are a lot more famous people around here than either of us will ever become. Maybe I’ll have to remind the board I own my company, and they answer to me as much as I do them.”
The elevator doors opened on the main floor instead of the parking garage, and Colt spotted their SUV on the street outside. “They’re waiting for us there.” He tugged Mal’s sleeve with one hand and pointed with the other.
“Oh, nice.” Mal moved his hand to Colt’s shoulder for a few seconds as they crossed the lobby.
They stepped out the door, and Colt buttoned up his suit jacket. The sidewalk was wide, and there were quite a few people walking around the area. Someone—a guy who made the hair on the back of Colt’s neck stand up—cut in front o
f Mal. Mal was forced to sidestep around the guy, a move that also separated him from Colt.
Another guy grabbed Colt’s arm. “Hey, I know you.”
A chill ran through Colt; he knew that voice. “No, I n-never met—” He was in the middle of the sidewalk with people walking by, but all alone.
“Yeah,” The guy got his face right into Colt’s and sneered. “You have.”
Mal twisted around, got into position behind the guy, and barked, “Hey!”
One of the private security guys dodged around the other man and was at Colt’s side. Mal pulled the guy away from Colt, forcing him to let go of Colt’s arm, then stepped between them. He turned to the side, fists bunched. His presence and ability to project an intimidating stance sent a sense of security coursing through Colt.
“Is there a problem here?” The security man—Frank, Colt remembered was his name—spoke quietly but with an undertone of menace.
When Mal reached around Frank and took Colt’s arm, Colt glanced at Mal and edged a little closer to him. “The car is this way.”
The man with the familiar voice tried to move in again, but Frank blocked him and put one hand out. “If you want to give me a number or email where Mr. Kensington’s office can contact you, I’ll pass it along. But please keep your distance.”
The other private security man—Colt couldn’t remember his name—opened the SUV door, and Mal pushed Colt ahead of him into the vehicle. Frank got into the front seat, and his partner slid into the car parked behind them and would follow them. Colt peered out the window and watched the people moving about on the sidewalk. The thug who’d grabbed Colt flipped the car off, turned away, and stalked down the street with his friend right beside him.
“Are you all right?” Mal’s voice cracked, and he locked his hand onto Colt’s wrist.
Colt swallowed and nodded. He leaned against the seat and let his head drop back. “Yeah.”
Whiskey and Moonshine Page 11
