Sunshine & Whiskey

by R. L. Griffin

  “Have you picked out bottles?” Laura asks.

  The pop makes me jump. Every single time I hear that noise I about jump out of my skin.

  Max hands us each a champagne flute.

  “To one of the best people I know, we wish you all the best Walker. Cheers to Kingston Cellars and to your dad.”

  Magic blinks and then we all clink our glasses together. Yeah, I don’t mind this sparkling wine at all. Pretty soon I won’t prefer whiskey, I won’t even recognize myself.

  Chapter Sixty-Seven

  Never Saw It Coming

  I get lost three times trying to get to my interview. I’ve started sweating and I’m glad I’m wearing a navy suit so that the pit sweat saturating the underarms of my red blouse will be hidden. As I finally turn into the parking garage under the high rise building where Henshaw, Kelly and Pearson has over seven floors of attorneys, I glance down at my phone. I have a text message from Peter, and I realize I’m already ten minutes late. Fucker.

  I know what you’re thinking, why am I interviewing for this job? Well, when Laura escaped to New York I didn’t know what to do. I had a friend in San Francisco get me this interview because I thought I could just go back to being an attorney. So, here I am. I pull into the first empty space I find, which, of course, is the farthest spot away from the elevator. I break into a full out run in my six inch navy heels. Yes, I own navy heels. It actually took me a long time to find them, they aren’t as common as one would think. After I had Justin pack up all my necessities, minus the stuff he gave to charity and the landfill, and send them to California, my shoes alone have taken over the closet.

  Anyway, I’m now running, a drop of sweat runs down my back and settles into the fabric of my skirt. I hit the up button for the elevator five times quickly, then stare at the doors while fanning myself, trying to dry the glistening on my face. Then back at the button. Then I hit the button again. Yeah, I’m that person. I know, it won’t help, but it makes me feel like at least I’m doing something. I start tapping the toe of my heel to a nervous beat, it’s the same as my heartbeat right now.

  I haven’t even stepped into the firm’s lobby and I’ve already failed. I know it. I can feel it. You ever feel like that? Like you might as well just get your ass home? Yeah, that’s exactly right. I turn to leave and see the most breathtaking man I’ve ever seen in my life walking toward the elevators. His dark hair is slicked back, which I’m not a huge fan of, but it fucking works for this guy. I skip his face because his suit is perfect. His broad shoulders are covered by navy pinstripes, a yellow shirt and a red bow tie. Yeah, a fucking bow tie on this mother fucker. I look down to his shoes. I judge people by their shoes, sue me. His are oxblood Cole Hahn dress shoes and my panties might as well fall off now.

  It’s then the doors to the elevator open. I didn’t even hear the ding because I was eye fucking this guy’s suit. I glance at his face as I hurry into the elevator and choke on disbelief.

  “Well, I don’t think I’ve ever been so thoroughly eye fucked.” Magic’s smirk forces me to trip over my feet and catch myself on the wall. “Watch yourself.” He grins and follows me in the elevator. The doors close behind him.

  I cannot speak. I’m afraid I’ll drool.

  “Cat got your tongue?”

  “Um, no,” I answer, sort of stuttering. “What…What are you doing here?”

  He stalks over to me and my body reacts instantaneously. Then he leans in and hits the button for the 15th floor. “Business. You?”

  Oh shit, what floor am I going to again? I rack my brain to shake off the raw sex that oozes out of Walker. Thirty-second, the thirty-second floor. That’s where I’m going. I hit the number.

  His eyes follow my finger and his eyebrows rise. “The law firm?”

  “Interview.” I shrug. “I’m late.”

  “Good luck.” He smiles and gets off the elevator.

  Well, nothing like sex on a stick to get my mind off totally tanking the interview. The elevator stops and the doors open, I take a deep breath and step out.

  My body sags as I lean against the back of the elevator. That was the worst interview of my life. Today, I could not get my shit together. I ride the elevator all the way to the parking garage in misery of the music playing softly, contemplating the disaster that just occurred. I walk out of the hall that housed the bank of elevators and stare at my feet. I’ve always been able to charm someone interviewing me. I’ve never not kicked ass. Today was a first. Maybe it’s a sign I shouldn’t try to get a job at the high power firm here. I sigh. Then I shrug it off and look toward my car where sex on a stick is leaning against the door with his suit coat draped over his shoulder. Like an advertisement for something that all women want. Lube. An advertisement for lube. Wait, really? I can’t think of that something good right now because all I can think of is him and his fucking smirk.

  “Hey. What’re you doing here?” Yep, I say this again because I’m cool.

  “I wanted to see how your interview went.” He stands up straight and I see he’s untied his bow tie. It’s casually hanging around his neck now, the top button of his shirt undone.

  “Ugh, cluster fuck, you?”

  “Pretty much.” His face hides his emotions. “You want dinner or you headed straight back?”

  “I was heading back, but if you’re offering to wine and dine me I’ll take that option.” I need a drink and a distraction. Making the drive up to the cottage thinking about losing would drive me insane. I don’t lose, at anything.

  “Why don’t you leave your car here, and I’ll drop you back off?” He’s already striding confidently toward his truck.

  I stand there for a minute, not to tease him or make him think I’m not coming, it’s solely to look at his ass.

  “Come on Megan, I know a place.”

  “Your ass is amazing. Do you do lunges?” I sass as I quickly follow him to his truck.

  “As a matter of fact,” he begins to answer.

  “That’s it, I knew you were too hot to be straight.” I say this because he is hot and he left me standing in my underwear. It’s a blow to the ego.

  As Magic opens the door for me, I contemplate how exactly I plan on getting in his truck in my skirt. It’s so high that if I step up it will rip up the slit in the back. I look around, making sure no one else is in the parking garage and hike up my skirt to get in as ladylike as possible. It’s not possible and I hear his chuckle behind me. I close my eyes and try not to be embarrassed. I mean, he’s seen me naked, right? When I finally shift into place, Magic is climbing in the driver’s side and smirking at my thighs above garters. Yeah, that’s right. I wear garters. Women still wear them, I hate hosiery. I almost never wear it, but when I do it’s with garters. I hate the feel of hose on my crotch. You ladies know what I mean.

  Walker’s tongue actually runs over his lower lip, and then his eyes lift to mine. We stare at each other for what seems like an hour, but it’s about a minute before I clear my throat and look away, shimmying my skirt down as I do.

  “Okay, maybe not gay…” I mutter.

  I’m staring at the red BMW next to Magic’s truck, blocking all thoughts from my mind when I feel fingertips lightly touch my left thigh, and my legs open on their own accord. His fingertips graze the edge of my panties and a sigh escapes my lips. I close my eyes and refuse to look at him. Then his fingers are gone and my eyes follow his hand back to his side of the truck.

  “Walker,” I whisper.

  “Megan. Are you with your ex?”

  “No I’m not ‘with’ Peter,” I answer, knowing I’m being honest, but not forthright in my answer.

  “Chad?”

  I shake my head.

  “Anyone?”

  “No,” I whisper.

  He throws the truck in reverse and I settle into the seat.

  “Where are we going?”

  He’s silent for a beat. Then he looks over at me as we stop at a red light. “I’m taking you somewhere. You trust me
?”

  “Hmmmmm, is that a trick question?” I tease.

  He looks back at the road as he starts moving again. “Megan. You’re special.”

  I sit there and take in his profile. He’s masculine and chiseled. I want to run my hands all over his face to memorize it. Then allow my lips to follow my fingers. I shake these thoughts from my mind. “Special like low functioning?”

  “Sometimes,” he chuckles. Then his gaze drops down to my skirt where my legs are still waiting for his touch.

  “So you were in San Francisco for business. What kind of business?” I’m trying to change the subject so I don’t straddle him while he’s driving.

  He clears his throat. “I’m not sure why I feel like I can tell you this, but I’m in need of an investor for my dad’s winery.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, I’ve worked my fucking ass off out there for over a year, and it’s not enough. I’ve gotten the vines good and the staff where I can see the vineyard actually working, but I’ve used all the money I’ve saved. My dad died in debt, and I’ve been trying to keep everything afloat. I’m drowning. I don’t have enough money to bottle the wine that’s ready.” I’ve never heard the tone in his voice. He’s always so confident, cocky, and it’s bizarre to hear this confession. “It’s a fucking disaster.”

  “Oh Walker, I had no idea. I’m sorry.”

  “I don’t want anyone to know, okay?” He looks at me to punctuate his question. I nod at him.

  “I want my dad’s reputation in Napa to remain unblemished.”

  “But, when we were out there a few weeks ago everything seemed great.”

  “It is great, but I can only keep things running for just a little bit longer, and I definitely cannot bottle, which is sort of important.”

  “That sucks.” I mean it. He seems really downright distraught about it, and everyone in Napa knows he’s been working hard.

  “Yeah, it does.”

  Chapter Sixty-Eight

  Verbal Diarrhea

  After an hour, he pulls into a long drive through acres of land. “Okay, now I’m getting worried,” I comment.

  “I changed my mind.”

  “About what?” I ask, wondering where the fuck we are going.

  “About you.” He doesn’t take his eyes off the long dirt driveway as he says this.

  “Are you going to take me back to get my car?”

  “Of course, whenever you want.”

  “Where are we?”

  “This is my place,” he answers.

  “Your place?” I’m baffled. It looks like a farm of some sort, but without actual crops.

  “Yeah, I bought this when I got lucky with some stocks right after I graduated from business school. I’m glad I did because it’s all I’ve got now.”

  “What do you mean?” I take in the rolling hills in the background and how the sun is sliding behind one of the hills to hide for the night.

  “I mean, I had everything. A penthouse in San Francisco, a sports car, a model girlfriend, and a job making a million dollars a year. I lost it all.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  He sighs and rakes his hand through his hair, which doesn’t really move due to the gel. “My dad and I never really understood each other’s lifestyles, but I loved him. He was my best friend.”

  “How about your mom?”

  “Oh, they divorced a long time ago. I was one. She moved to New York to follow her dreams.”

  “What were those?”

  “Something without a baby,” he answers ruefully. He pulls in front of a sprawling ranch style house. It’s unassuming and not what I expected from him. It’s all deep red brick with a massive oak door smack dab in the middle of a circular drive.

  “Oh.” Is all I can think to answer.

  “So, anyway. I took a leave from my job to come up here to take care of my dad when he got sick. He had pancreatic cancer and he needed help in the last few months. I made a couple of bad decisions investment-wise and I lost all the things I thought were necessary...until I lost my dad. Then I realized it was all bullshit anyway.”

  I stayed silent. I couldn’t imagine losing my dad. I know he’s being modest and maybe a little evasive. Based on what I know someone he’d considered a friend stole some accounts.

  “I’m sorry,” I say and put my hand over his.

  “Thanks.” He opens his door and slides out of the cab of the truck, breaking our connection. I follow his lead. I open the door and as I’m about to hop out he appears and lifts me, lowering me to the ground, allowing my body to skirt down his, sending heat sparking through my skin until my feet touch the earth again.

  “You do weird things to me.” I have word diarrhea and cover my mouth in shock.

  His eyes light up with amusement. “Ditto,” he comments before taking my hand and moving me toward the front door. It is a grand door. It’s three times as big as normal doors. I follow him into his home.

  It’s elegant and regal and seems to have a woman’s touch because the colors are soft and the artwork is gorgeous. I’m not saying men can’t have amazing taste, I’ve just never seen it before.

  “Did you decorate yourself?”

  “I bought it with everything in it, I simply walked in with my clothes.” He throws his suit coat on the back of a brown, worn leather couch and I’m about to follow suit when I realize my shirt probably has pit stains. That’s not attractive at all. Shit. I shed my heels and walk to the kitchen where he is pulling things out of a gigantic stainless steel fridge. “I thought it was perfect for me.”

  “That’s a big fridge for one person,” I comment.

  “I bought this from a family, so it stays pretty empty,” he says into the fridge.

  “So when did your dad pass away?”

  “Last year,” he answers and turns around. His eyes sear into me and I’m self conscious. I’m never self conscious, but he makes me uncomfortable for some reason. Like there is something hanging between us, and any small move from either one of us and it’ll explode, which could either be good or bad.

  “Where’s your bathroom?”

  “That way, first door on the left.”

  I close the door and give myself a silent pep talk as I pee. I wash my hands and look at the person looking back at me. I used to be a lawyer. I used to be part of a couple. I used to be…

  I straighten myself up. Fuck who I used to be, I can be anything I want. If I want to be a lawyer here I’ll take the fucking bar and open my own damn firm. If I want to do something else, I’ll do that. I just need to decide if Laura and I are really going to make a go of it.

  When I get back to the kitchen, he’s put out a bottle of water and motions for me to have it.

  “Red or white?”

  “Red,” I answer. I look around and want to memorize this place so I can think back and remember this moment. “Walker…”

  He’s cutting vegetables and the water is boiling for the pasta.

  “Yeah?” He doesn’t even look up.

  “Thanks for inviting me.”

  “Well, what better way to spend a shitty night, but with someone you want to know better.”

  “You want to know me?”

  He nods. “Max has told me how much you’re helping out with his foundation. You have a quality that is like a magnet to me for some reason. You’re very different than my last girlfriend or any girls I’ve dated recently.”

  “Well, I’m not twenty-one, if that’s what you mean,” I quip, remembering the girl he was with at the Tasting Room.

  “Point made.” His forearms flex as he is cutting shallots. I mean what dude has shallots in his house?

  “I really like him. He’s one of my only friends out here.”

  “You know when your friend is around he cannot keep his eyes to himself.”

  “All women want that, a man who can’t take his eyes off her.”

  His eyes snap to mine. “Is that what you want?”

&nb
sp; “I want so many things,” I drawl. I don’t use my southern roots very often, but sometimes it just makes sense.

  He puts down the knife and really takes me in. “What things?”

  “I want you to kiss me.” My voice is soft now and honesty is pouring out, and I want to catch it in my glass before it ruins my shirt.

  “Is that it? I was thinking it would be life altering things.” He saunters over to me and I turn to face him. He pins me with my back against the counter, his hands on either side of me. Leaning in, he tentatively kisses my upper lip and a quiet buzz erupts in my brain. Then he tangles his hand in my hair and parts my lips with his tongue. He is devouring me in the most delicious way. I can’t breathe and I don’t care. I smell him, it’s that cedar scent and it makes me want to be in the woods naked with him. I taste him, he takes like cinnamon and it makes me long for him to take me upstairs. I feel him. I mean I am running my hands up and down his back, they might end up on his ass, but I want him naked. I’m trembling with need. Have you ever heard of that expression? I’ve read about it in novels, but I’ve never once trembled because a man kissed or touched me.

  I pull back and gasp. My hand goes to my lips. “I wouldn’t want it to be anything life altering,” I joke.

  His face is still only inches from mine and he keeps staring at my lips.

  “You’re sexiest just like that. Your lips swollen from my kiss and free of lip stick.”

  “You’re totally thinking of my lips on your dick,” I say. I can’t help it. What is wrong with me?

  His eyes widen with amusement. “You’re a mind reader too.”

  I don’t hear whatever he says next because I’ve started my own R&B playlist in my mind. I will not sleep with him tonight. I will not sleep with him tonight. Repeat it with me ladies. Repeat it, damn it.

  Chapter Sixty-Nine