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Whiskey Kiss: A Small-town Romance

Page 7

by V McFarlane

“Ava,” I call, plucking my keys off the table, “Time to go.”

  “Coming!” She yells, bouncing down the stairs with a thump.

  I should really be spending the day job hunting but I’ve been doing that all week, I can’t imagine any new jobs would have been posted in the past twenty four hours when the list of vacancies hadn’t changed at all, all week.

  We drive over to Taron’s ranch, Ava singing along to a Disney soundtrack and me joining in on the bits I know. Again, we’ve been graced with warm weather but there are clouds today, some darker than others and on the horizon looks to be a storm rolling in. The humidity in the air is too high for there not to be.

  I punch in the code Taron gave me yesterday when I reach the gate and then roll up the long driveway. I was in awe of this place yesterday. What can one person do with this much land? Fields surround us, a few horses graze in a meadow closest to the driveway and further back there’s chickens and a couple of goats. He has people working here, I’d noticed that yesterday too, but once I showed up, they were nowhere to be found.

  I park next to Taron’s pick up and let Ava out. She’s quick to bound up to the front door, her little hand knocking on the huge white wood continuously.

  “Ava,” I chastise just as the door opens and Taron comes into view.

  My jaw hits the floor.

  He’s in a pair of dark grey striped swim shorts and nothing else. Droplets of water roll over chiselled abs, dripping down the crevices between his tightly corded muscle. Broad shoulders, pronounced collar bones and arms so firm make up the top half of his body. His skin golden, tanned from the sun and his dark hair is wet, pushed away from his face.

  He looks like sin.

  I wonder if he tastes like it too.

  Holy Hell, he’s insane.

  “Penny,” he throws me a knowing smile, reaching a hand up as if to show off the muscles in his arms some more, “Come on in, Ripley’s in the kitchen making juice.”

  Ava darts passed him, completely unaware of my shock whilst I just stand, captivated by the flex and twitch of his muscles.

  “Are you coming?”

  I swallow.

  “Penny?”

  I close my eyes and take a deep breath, I’ve got this. He’s just a man. A delicious, tempting man, but just a man.

  I step up onto the porch and he moves aside for me to pass before closing the door. The click of it falling into place echoes around inside my head like I’ve just finalised something. Sealed my fate.

  “Would you like a drink?”

  Something strong. Maybe alcoholic. “Just a water.”

  The girls are busy sipping orange juice from little plastic pink cups and Taron grabs a couple of bottles from the fridge, tossing one over to me.

  All I’ve done is ogle the man since I walked through the door and now is no different as I watch his throat work as he swallows down mouthfuls of water. How can he make everything seem so…sensual?

  Heat pools in my belly, my muscles and skin warming. It’s a feeling I haven’t felt in a long time. Lust. Want. Need.

  “Did you bring your suit?” Taron asks, his voice bourbon smooth.

  I nod.

  “Did you want to swim?”

  I nod again.

  God, he’s going to think there’s something wrong with me.

  I spin, ready to take off down the hall to get changed but my foot catches on the stool beneath the kitchen island and I trip, stumbling forward. Taron’s quick. He reaches out and grabs me, his arm wrapping around my waist, fingers digging into my flesh.

  “Careful darlin’,” his voice is low and rough, and I turn my head, coming face to face with his, his eyes burning holes right through me.

  I shake my head to clear the Taron induced fog and step away, “Sorry.”

  “No problem.”

  I pretend I didn’t feel his hard muscles pressed against me, the warmth of his skin searing through the thin material of my dress. I pretend I didn’t notice that he called me darlin’ and I certainly don’t acknowledge the warmth that that brought.

  I pass Ava her swimsuit and then head off to change into my own. It’s a different one from yesterday, a light blue colour with a halter tie neck that dips just a little too low on the cleavage. I borrow one of Taron’s towels to wrap around myself and head out to the sound of giggles and low chuckles.

  Everyone is in the pool, the girls in the shallow end whilst Taron throws an oversized inflatable ball over the water, causing it bounce off the surface of the water, splashing the girls.

  I steady my breath before taking off the towel and folding it across the back of a deck chair and then make my way to the steps that lead down into the water.

  The sense of being watched sends goose bumps chasing over my skin.

  Cool water washes away some of the fever caused by Taron and I make my way over to the girls.

  “Go on daddy’s team!” Ripley giggles, “Let’s play tag.”

  “Water tag?” I question.

  “How about this?” Taron says, “I’ll be it, you all have to run or, swim in this case, away.”

  “Yay!” Ripley kicks off the bottom of the pool and Ava follows, her arm bands forcing her arms out from her body and her movements much slower.

  A little bubble of excitement bursts in my stomach and I laugh as Taron cuts through the water towards me. This is much more than a game of cat and mouse, this is a challenge and it has something to do with the incident that happened in the kitchen.

  I kick off the bottom, heading towards the deep end, my legs kicking frantically through the water as I try to get away. I hear him, I sense him coming up behind me and then there’s solid, strong fingers wrapping around my ankle. One quick yank and I’m pulled under, a rush of water streaming up my nose.

  When I resurface, Taron is right there, his hazel eyes lit up with mischief, his perfect mouth pulled up into that mega-watt smile that leaves dimples in both cheeks.

  “You’re it,” He mumbles, his fingers reaching out to skim my waist and even through the bathing suit, I feel him, I feel him like electricity coursing through my veins, lighting up my nerves like a thousand fireflies have just invaded my bloodstream.

  I need to put distance between us, that is what my head is saying. Nothing good can come from getting close to a man like Taron and yet my heart is singing, screaming, throwing itself at him like he’s the lifeline.

  My secrets aren’t safe if I were to involve myself with him.

  He’s the towns golden boy, the eligible bachelor, his name, and everything he does is all over town and should I involve myself with him like that, mine will be too.

  I hate that my head is right because this feels so good. His fingers on me, his breath whispering against my skin, all of it, just feels…perfect.

  “Mommy’s it!” Ava squeals, severing whatever spell Taron and I had fallen under.

  I should be thankful…

  But I’m not.

  Sixteen

  Taron

  I cook us a late lunch on the grill I have on my patio. The girls are still in the pool, playing with brightly coloured inflatables whilst Penny and I lounge on a couple of sunbeds even though the sun has long been suffocated by thick, grey clouds.

  “Looks like a storm,” I say to Penny, flipping the burgers.

  Her eyes flick over, guarded, her shoulders stiff. I had her. She was literally beneath my fingertips just like she was last night and one interruption, she closed down. The walls went up and the shutters slammed, locked, sealed, so tight you’d need a damn crowbar and some heavy force to reopen them.

  Trust me, I tried.

  She was playful, she laughed, and she smiled. It was the first real smile I’d seen from her and God damn, if it weren’t the prettiest thing I had ever seen. Her whole face lit up, her emerald eyes sparkled, and that laugh was like music, a perfect lullaby to soothe even the toughest of ills.

  “Yeah,” She agrees eventually, “it does.”

  As if on c
ue a loud rumble of thunder cracks through the sky, followed by a bright burst of lightening that forks violently through the clouds.

  Penny goes into full mom mode, jumping up from the lounger, grabbing both the girl’s towels and rushing towards the pool.

  “Out!” she demands, “Come on.”

  The girls don’t need to be asked twice, they scramble to the steps and pull themselves from the water, jogging to where Penny waits to wrap them both in towels.

  “Go get dried and dressed,” I tell them, “Food in ten!”

  They scamper off, leaving a trail of wet footprints and puddles through the house. Once they’ve both disappeared, I turn my attention back to Penny. She’s pulled her honey blonde hair into a high bun, two tendrils coming down to frame her face and she’s leaning against the brick pillar that holds up the overhang.

  “Smells great,” she smiles though this one isn’t the same as the one I saw earlier.

  I leave the burgers to sizzle on the heat and step towards her, “what is your story?” I ask.

  Her arched brows draw together, “what do you mean?”

  I cock my head, studying her. She’s tense, her shoulders constantly bunched up, her brows puckered, always in thought.

  “Your story,” I repeat, “who are you, Penny Hart?”

  “You don’t want to know,” she replies, her voice barely above a whisper.

  “Oh,” I tuck one of those stray tendrils behind her ear and if I’m not mistaken, she leans into my hand, my touch, “I want to know your story. I want to know you.”

  Another loud crack of thunder penetrates the silence of the yard but even with that, I can hear her breath, the way it hitches at my proximity. I affect her. And I like it.

  “No,” she breathes, “you don’t.”

  She steps away from my hand, closing her eyes and shaking her head.

  I don’t push her. Instead, I go back to the grill and take the burgers off the heat, placing them on a nearby plate to cool down.

  The girls are still busy getting changed so I turn back to Penny, keeping myself where I am even though my whole body is begging me to get closer.

  “Did you find a job?” I ask.

  “What?”

  “A job? Last I heard I got you fired, did you get another?”

  She winces, “Sorry about that.”

  I wave it off, “Well did you?”

  She sighs, “No, not yet.”

  “I can give you a job.”

  I had been thinking about it for a few days now. I have the money to employ her, she has the skills to look after my kid, so what if she isn’t a highly experienced nanny, hell most of the nannies that applied didn’t have kids of their own and you can get no better experience than being a parent.

  “Where? At your distillery?”

  I try to picture Penny there, amongst the charred oak barrels and machinery and whilst it would paint a pretty picture if it were just her and me in the storage rooms, a backdrop of wooden barrels and aging whiskey, she didn’t belong in a distillery.

  I supposed she could be a tour guide but that would take a lot of training and I don’t have time for that.

  “No, here, at the ranch.”

  “I’m not good with horses, or animals in general,” her nose wrinkles, “I’d do more harm than good but thank you.”

  I chuckle and her face relaxes, a hint of a smile tugging on her plump mouth, “not the animals either. Ripley. I need a nanny and maybe a little help around the house. Run some errands maybe, go grocery shopping, that kind of thing.”

  She tilts her head side to side, considering, “This sounds almost too good to be true, what’s the catch?”

  “No catch,” I begin to plate her up a burger, “Oh, no, wait, there is a catch.”

  “I knew it,” she scoffs.

  “Hold up,” I tell her, “If you’re going to be working for me, I can’t have you driving that car.”

  Her face twists like I’ve offended her, “I can’t afford a new car.” The way she says it makes it sound like she’s ashamed of herself, like she’s doing something wrong by not being able to just go out and buy a brand-new car. I know plenty of folks that work their asses off every day and still can’t go out and buy new things.

  “I don’t expect you to buy a new car.” Handing her the plate, I quickly dart inside and grab the keys to the Wrangler I have parked in the garage. It’s a few years old now and was used down at the distillery but we don’t use it as much, and it’s been sat here, doing nothing other than going out into the fields a few times a month to check the boundaries.

  I toss them down on the table and then plate up two burgers for the girls and one for myself, sitting opposite to Penny.

  “I have a car sitting in the garage, it’s nothing fancy but it is safe.”

  She eyes the keys and then looks up at me, “Are you sure about this?”

  I shrug, “Sure.”

  “Okay.”

  “Okay?”

  “Okay, I’ll do it.”

  “What, you don’t want to discuss salary or benefits?”

  She sputters on the word benefits and I have to stifle my own chuckle, “No. Well yes, but later.”

  “Deal,” I say passed a mouthful of food.

  The girls come back out then and climb up into their seats at the table, tucking into the food.

  And I can’t help but feel like I just won something grand.

  Seventeen

  Penny

  The rain started about an hour ago and it’s been relentless since, it’s not just normal rain, but a literal sheet of water falling from thick, dark clouds above. Wind whips at the trees, sending lashings of water against the windows and it’s started to thunder again.

  “I should really think about heading back,” I murmur, watching the rain pelt against the driveway and the cars parked there.

  “You can’t drive in this,” Taron shakes his head, “I wouldn’t even drive in this. These roads flood easy, it’s not safe right now.”

  “How long do you think it’ll last?” I wonder out loud.

  He shrugs, “Who knows. Storms in these parts can get real bad, real quick. We were due one. Been weeks since it last rained.”

  I settle down onto the comfy brown leather chair and bring my knees to my chest. Ava is upstairs playing with Ripley in her bedroom, I’ve barely seen her all day.

  “So, tell me about you, Taron?” I ask, breaking the silence.

  “What do you want to know?”

  “Did you grow up here?”

  “Mm,” He nods, “Not this house, but one similar, dad sold that after he retired. I went to college in Springfield.”

  “And you own the distillery now your father is retired?”

  “He’s still on the board, but yes, it’s mine.”

  “Wow,” I breathe, “That’s some responsibility. Do you love it?”

  I watch him, I see the way his eyes light up at the mention of the Winters Creek Whiskey Distillery, I see the pride and the love he has there.

  “Like you wouldn’t believe, my dad always told me if whiskey could not cure it, there was no cure.”

  I laugh, “Sounds like he loved it just as much.”

  “It was as much part of his blood as it is mine.”

  I smile at that, “it must be nice to be able to just belong, huh? Knowing you’re right where you need to be, where you’re supposed to be.”

  “What do you love, Penny?”

  He’s so focused on me it’s hard to remember to keep my guard up. It’s like he’s hanging off my every word, like what I say is feeding him and he has to have more. I have his full attention and nothing less.

  “Other than Ava, I’ve always wanted to go into event management. Weddings, parties, hell even corporate events. I just like to watch something come together.”

  He’s nodding, “And what else?”

  I laugh a little nervously, “Uh, books? Fireflies. Coffee.”

  “Fireflies and coffee, huh?


  “Silly, no?”

  “No,” he stands and heads through to the kitchen, grabbing his bottle of whiskey and two glasses, “So how about that sip now?”

  “I shouldn’t,” I tell him, “I have to drive.”

  “Stay.”

  One word and my heart is galloping inside my chest. One syllable and I’m hanging on the edge, willing myself not to fall over.

  Say no. Just say no. “Okay.”

  Gah!

  He grins and sets the glasses down on the table, pouring a small amount of amber liquid into each one. I realise, staring at the whiskey in the glass, that it matches the gold flecks in his eyes, even as the light catches it and reflects back, I can’t help but see Taron, even in the liquid.

  He doesn’t play the same game as yesterday, he just passes me the glass and settles back down on the couch, watching me over the rim as he takes a sip. I follow suit, bringing it up to my lips and cautiously tipping it back, allowing a small amount to meet my tongue.

  It’s smoky. Woody. A little spicy too but nothing like I would have imagined. Well not until I swallow at least, and it burns the entire way down, warming me from the inside out. I can’t help but cough a little at the strength of it.

  It’s nice. Like nothing I’ve ever tasted but I couldn’t drink too much for fear of ending up on my ass. I avoided alcohol usually, watching my dad drink himself into an early grave had something to do with it but I did enjoy a little tipple every now and then. I couldn’t exactly say this was a drink, more of a night cap if it were to be called anything.

  Taron’s on his second glass when I realise the time and how dark it’s gotten outside. The rain is still coming and upstairs in eerily quiet when really the whole house should be filled with the sounds of giggles and chatter.

  “I’m just going to check on the girls,” I say to Taron and head up the stairs, following the hallway to where a light is spilling out from a crack in a door.

  I gently pry it open and sigh, both girls are curled up in the large pink bed in the centre of the room, still dressed in their clothes of the day. Thankfully, they’re comfy shorts and t shirts, nothing too bad that I can’t leave them in them for the night. Ripley’s dark hair is a striking contrast against Ava’s light head of hair, but they look peaceful, curled up into little sleeping balls on top of a soft duvet.

 

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