And watching Bo during her experience made it even better. After Bo swallowed, he closed his eyes for several seconds, and she wondered what kind of analysis or criticism went through his mind immediately after he tasted it. His face was reverent and enraptured as he savored his own product.
His eyes flew open. “So what did you taste?”
“I thought you’d ask me whether I liked it.”
“I hope so, but I’m wondering what flavors you could detect.”
Lila looked at the nearly-empty glass in her hand; she hadn’t consumed the entire amount in that one sip. “Something creamy, sweet, I think. Like caramel or brown sugar.”
“Exactly!” nodded Bo. “Those are notes you should definitely be detecting in Old Garnet. To be bourbon, the mashbill has to contain at least fifty-one percent corn. But we go higher, around seventy percent. Makes it sweeter, smoother, and in my opinion, better. Gets away from that bitter rye taste, although many people prefer that in their bourbon.”
He pointed to the wall near the door and she saw a large round pie chart, carved on a light golden wood. A myriad of slices radiated from the center of the chart, and each slice bore a different flavor name. Lila immediately noted the flavors she had detected in Old Garnet—caramel and brown sugar—and did that really say butterscotch? And apple and peach? The different flavors were mind-bogglingly varied. She even saw how some flavors were opposites, such as cedar and cinnamon, two flavors she never would have associated with bourbon until that morning.
“Now I’ll ask,” Bo said. “Did you like it?”
“Yes, I did,” she admitted, and nodded. “Although I don’t know whether I would want to make a habit of sipping straight bourbon before ten in the morning.”
“Well, I wouldn’t make it a habit, either, although I’m not averse to it under the right circumstances,” Bo said. He took his glass, which still had a small thin line of bourbon in it, and finished it off.
Lila looked at the remainder in her glass, debating whether to drink it.
“If you finish that, I’ll give you a surprise,” Bo encouraged her, and pointed to her glass.
Lila’s eyebrows popped up. “A surprise? Would it be a good one?”
“Depends on whether you like bourbon balls.”
“Oh, I would definitely consider that to be the good kind of surprise,” Lila said, and picked up her glass.
Bo winked. “I found a weakness at last.”
“Got me,” she admitted.
Lila was determined to pick up a few more flavors in the bourbon and sipped the slim balance of the amber-colored liquid, which had pooled in the bottom of the glass. This time, she closed her eyes as she savored the spirit on her tongue and in her mouth before swallowing it. After rolling the bourbon in her mouth and letting it cascade down her throat, Lila opened her eyes to find Bo devouring her with his. She flushed at once and put down the glass.
“Detect anything else that time?” Bo asked as he licked his lips.
“Um—what?” Lila said, suddenly feeling a little trapped and casting a glance toward the door.
“Flavors,” Bo said. “Any other flavors?”
“Um, I think maybe butterscotch.”
Bo nodded. “That’s good, that’s good,” he said approvingly. “Still want that bourbon ball?” he asked, and rose from his seat and headed back toward the table in the center of the room.
“Yes, thanks,” Lila said, relieved that Bo had moved away from her.
Still nervous and fidgety, Lila almost got up from her seat but instead watched as Bo rummaged through a small refrigerator underneath a cabinet along the far wall. He pulled out a small gold box, closed the fridge door, and walked across the room and took his seat opposite her once more. He moved aside the empty glasses and put the box squarely between them, removed the cover and a paper liner, and sat back.
“There you are,” Bo said, and gestured toward the box. “Freshly made yesterday.”
“Who makes them? Your mother?”
He shook his head. “She used to, but couldn’t keep up when tourism increased so much. We get them from Over a Barrel. They really do make the best in town.”
“Even better than your mother?” Lila asked, amused.
“Never, ever tell her I said something like that.”
“I think I just found a weakness,” she said, and smiled.
“Shut it and take one,” he told her, and pointed at the box again.
The round candies all looked the same: small globes covered with dark chocolate and a single pecan affixed to the top. She took one, took a bite, and sighed as she bit into the white, sugary, and nutty center.
“Umm,” Lila moaned, “these are better than I remembered. Been a while since I had a bourbon ball, and I couldn’t tell you the last time I had one from Over a Barrel. Rarely get downtown. The day I saw you—” She stopped short, feeling like she’d broken the spell by coming so close to mentioning the stupid lawsuit.
“Yeah, I don’t get down there much myself,” Bo said, and abruptly stood.
Lila swallowed the last little bit of her first bite of the bourbon ball, licked her lips, and took another bite. These things were so large that she figured she could get at least four good bites out of the sweet monstrosity.
“Aren’t you going to have one, too?” she asked.
“Naw, the bourbon was enough for me,” he said, and picked up the glasses and walked back toward the cabinet against the far wall. While he put the glasses into the bar sink with a clatter, Lila sensed with regret that the fun part of her tour was rapidly coming to an end.
Chapter 6
As Lila finished the last few bites of her bourbon ball, she watched as Bo turned from the sink and walked around the edge of the room to the far corner, which was the spot that likely afforded the best view of the creek and valley beyond. She could tell there was something different about him.
He was obviously nervous about her being there; she had sensed that from the moment she saw him that morning, especially since he had been in the midst of a tirade about her. But his demeanor had softened and changed in the hour or so she’d been around him during the tour and tasting. Now he was back to being uptight. Was he going to bring up the lawsuit? Didn’t look like it. He remained standing and silent in the corner, looking out the window, almost ignoring her.
Finishing her candy, Lila wiped her hands on a small bar napkin she found on the chair next to her, and walked over to where he stood.
“Still rainy?” she asked.
He jumped. “Oh, yeah, sorry. You startled me. Thought you were still working on that bourbon ball.”
“It didn’t take me very long to polish it off,” she said. “Next time I’m in town, I’ll have to go to Over a Barrel and get some.”
He nodded, and continued to stare out the window. “You know, I kinda hate to go into town.”
Lila had no idea how to respond. Was he referring to their shared need to go to town to see lawyers? Was this some kind of expression of regret?
“I’m not real fond of it, either,” she agreed, looking toward the creek.
It looked like the rain was picking up and she knew that she needed to leave. She’d actually had a very nice time with Bo—something she never would have believed before that morning. But she sensed she was about to overstay her welcome—or stay longer than she was comfortable.
“Well,” she said, “thank you for the tour and the tasting. I learned a lot today.”
“Coming from a teacher, that means a lot,” Bo said, finally looking down at her.
“And remember you promised to give me more tasting lessons if I were so inclined,” she said, playfully wagging a finger at him.
“Are you so inclined?” he asked, but his tone was anything but playful.
Lila remained fixed to the spot, and returned Bo’s intense gaze. “Maybe.”
“How about now?” he whispered, and moved closer to her. “Would you like to start those lessons now?”
Even though her mind told her to run, her body wouldn’t listen. “Is this how you operate, Bo?” she asked, and didn’t back away from him. “Show a girl your distillery, get her in here, get her tipsy?”
She was joking, teasing—and waiting for him to make his move. Lila felt the flush in her cheeks and knew he saw it—and that he didn’t think for a second it was the product of the scant liquor she’d just consumed.
Bo turned until his body was squarely in front of her. She was breathing heavily, her lips were slightly parted, and her attention was completely focused on him.
“That’s not how I operate, Lila,” he said, his face directly above hers.
“Good,” she whispered as his head dipped towards hers. “Because I’m not tipsy.”
His lips were inches from hers as he smiled. “I know,” he whispered. Bo cupped her tiny face in his rough hands and gently brought his lips down on hers.
She trembled under his touch. She hadn’t been near a man or even thought about being near a man since her husband died. But now here she was kissing Bo—the man she’d bickered with for months and the man she was suing. The man who claimed her land, the man who demanded a piece of something most precious to her.
Now he wanted to claim her heart as well.
It was ridiculous to be there with him under the circumstances, but at that moment she just didn’t care. All that mattered was his touch, his kiss, and the feel of his body against hers. His lips were soft yet insistent, and Lila had truly forgotten how wonderful it was to be savored and worshipped like this. Bo moved his hands to her back and held her closer to his long, lean body as he deepened the kiss and traced the contours of her lips with his tongue. She gasped and broke away.
“Is this really such a good idea?” she whispered and closed her eyes. But she didn’t try to wrench away from his embrace. “The case—our lawyers—”
“We’re not in court and to hell with our lawyers,” he said, kissing her again, this time much harder than before.
His mouth was demanding and desperate, and his tongue insisted on entry, which she allowed. As his lips moved to the soft flesh under her jaw and planted a line of kisses from her chin to just behind her ear, she reeled, dizzy and breathless, and felt as though she were melting in his arms.
Of all the men out there, why Bo Davenport? A man who needed more than she knew she could give, a man she’d argued with for months, a man just as stubborn as her. Yet at that moment he was the man she desperately wanted. She was captured by his kiss, his embrace, and his entire presence. Her body craved this connection and did not want it to end.
A faint scratching, along with the opening of the door, announced someone’s arrival before they heard the voice.
“How in tarnation did this thing get open?” Hannah asked as she moved into the room. Two men dressed in work clothes and carrying toolboxes followed her inside.
There was just enough time for them to break apart and try to pretend nothing had happened. There stood Hannah near the door, staring at them.
“I do hope I’m not interrupting anything in here,” she said, putting a fist on her hip.
Lila felt her face burn, and knew her face was as red as the garnet on the label of the bourbon she’d sampled that day.
Bo took a few steps away from Lila, and pointed to where she had sat during the bourbon tasting. “Just finishing up the tour,” Bo said. The little paper cup in which the bourbon ball had rested still sat on the table.
“Right,” Hannah said, her voice thick with doubt. “Well, the electricians are here to fix the track lighting over the sink. Don’t let them bother you. Do carry on,” she said, grinned, and left.
The electricians set to their work and Bo and Lila looked at each other. Lila broke eye contact first, and started looking around the room in a confused what-the-hell-just-happened sort of mild alarm.
“Well,” she said, a little too loudly, and retrieved her coat. “Thanks for the tour and—the tasting,” she said, stumbling over the words and feeling herself get red again. “But I should be going now.”
She quickly shrugged into her coat and grabbed her purse. Lila was about to run out the door when Bo grabbed her by the arm, stopping her immediately.
“At least let me walk you to the door, Lila. You don’t have to run from me.”
She swallowed. “Maybe I should.”
He released her arm. “You had your chance a few minutes ago.”
Lila brushed some of her hair from her forehead. “Let’s walk and talk,” she said, trying to sound casual. She led the way out of the room with Bo following closely behind.
“Did I do something wrong?” he asked under his breath once they entered the lobby.
“No, no,” Lila said, and shook her head. “Please don’t think that.”
They stopped in the middle of the lobby, directly underneath the dome. A small patch of light shone down upon them; the sun had broken through the clouds for a split second, but then disappeared as quickly as it had materialized.
“Then what am I supposed to think?” he asked plaintively.
“That I’m scared and confused,” she said, and looked around to see if anyone was watching them, but saw no one.
“I am, too, if that helps any,” he admitted, putting a hand on the back of his neck.
“Not really,” Lila said. “At least one of us should have our wits about us. I was hoping it would be you so you could tell me that this is stupid.”
“Stupid?” he cried, and she knew she’d hurt him.
“OK, poor choice of words,” Lila said, and continued to scan the area, fearing Emma or Hannah was about to pop out of the woodwork and start asking pointed questions.
“And what do you mean by this?” he asked, putting emphasis on the word she’d used.
“You know,” she said, but would not look him in the eye.
“No, I don’t.”
“Us. Together.”
“Actually, that doesn’t sound stupid at all. That sounds pretty damned wonderful to me.”
“Bo, I—I—” and she simply could not spit out the words.
“Why are you so scared? The lawsuit?”
“Well, yes! We’re at each other’s throats, legally speaking! We’ve barely been able to get along for the past year or so! How can we possibly…”
Lila shook her head, unable to comprehend how they could overcome what she saw as the insurmountable obstacle of the land issue. They both desperately wanted very different results and one of them was likely going to walk away from the lawsuit very hurt.
Why add a broken heart on top of all that?
“Maybe we could settle,” he said.
“We tried that already, remember? Month after month of nothing.”
“No, months of dancing around each other. That’s not nothing.”
“What?”
“Has it ever occurred to you that maybe—just maybe—we’ve been arguing and sniping and keeping in contact all this time because we’re—we’re—” Bo spread his arms out, looking at the floor and struggling to find the right word or phrase.
“What? More than neighbors?”
“I think we’d both like to be,” he said. “In fact, I’m sure that after what happened in that tasting room,” Bo said, pointing back to the spot where they had been, “we are definitely more than neighbors.”
“Bo, beyond the land thing, there’s something else you need to understand,” Lila said rapidly but in a small voice. “I’ve been a widow now for a while.”
“I know,” he said softly.
“And—and there’s not been anyone else for me since—since I became a widow. I haven’t been interested in meeting someone. I haven’t sought it, I haven’t thought about it. I can’t—in fact, the thought has scared me,” she said, and paused. “So I don’t think I can handle all this, OK? The lawsuit, you,” she said and gestured toward him. Lila closed her eyes and took a long breath. “I’ve had to absorb so much loss that I can’t do that anymore
. Can you understand?”
“I don’t plan on hurting you, if that’s what you’re afraid of.”
Her eyes popped open, and now she was angry. “Too late. You already did. You’re after my land.”
“The land. Again,” he said. He rolled his eyes and stepped back from her.
“We can’t get away from it. And I can’t get away from who I am and what makes me who I am. This,” she said, pointing to him and then herself, “just can’t happen. I’m sorry.”
She trotted away from him, leaving him standing in the center of the lobby, and broke into a run once she hit the doors and exited the building. She had to get out of there. Her rational mind had finally taken control and propelled her away from that place and the dangers it posed.
She heard him cry for her to stop. Failing to heed her rational side, Lila complied and froze at the curb, but kept her back to Bo. He walked to her left side and spoke directly in her ear.
“Can you tell me right now that I shouldn’t bother trying to change your mind?”
“About what?” she asked, and moved her face until she could see his.
“About us. About this not being possible,” he said, and pointed back and forth between them. She opened her mouth, but she said nothing. “I thought so,” he said, and nodded with a determined satisfaction.
“You’ve got your work cut out for you, Bo Davenport,” she huffed and stormed off into the parking lot, walking briskly but not running from him.
Chapter 7
“I guess you two found the key to the tasting room, I take it?” Hannah taunted once Bo had returned to his office. “How did the tasting go?”
“I don’t recall a knock or inviting you in, sis,” he spat.
“So tell me what’s going on with you and Lila,” Hannah said in a serious tone and sat in an old chair in front of his desk. “Ouch,” she complained. “You need to get new furniture like I did.”
“I don’t need new chairs,” he said. “And I’m perfectly happy with that new couch I got recently. Park yourself over there if the chair isn’t good enough for you.”
“My posterior does not agree with your assessment of the chairs,” she said. “And that couch is repulsive.”
Angels' Share (Bourbon Springs Book 3) Page 5
