Bourbon Springs Box Set: Volume II, Books 4-6 (Bourbon Springs Box Sets Book 2)

by Jennifer Bramseth

  “I don’t need to know,” she said and stopped massaging him. CiCi put her chin on his shoulder until her lips were next to his ear and wrapped her arms around his chest. “I love you, you love me. That’s all that matters.”

  Walker turned around on the bed and pulled CiCi into a position where they were directly facing each other.

  “And that’s exactly why I’m going to tell you the truth. Because you love me and need to understand.” He closed his eyes as though trying to summon the unhappy memories. “I’ve told you that Jana and I argued and separated more than once, but I didn’t tell you why we argued.” He opened his eyes, and they became unfixed as he summoned the recollections. “We kept fighting over having a baby.” He exhaled, as if the admission were a relief. “She kept putting it off, and I was upset and worried because I knew our chances to conceive were dwindling as time passed. I’d told her before we got married that I wanted kids and thought she wanted the same; but then she got cold feet or changed her mind or whatever.

  “And we broke up a few times over it. Said I was badgering her, pestering her. Maybe I was. But I felt that she’d been dishonest with me. And I was ready to stick a fork in it. I thought it was over. She called, wanting to get back together, and we did for a little while, but I eventually told her I wanted out. She didn’t take it well.”

  He released CiCi’s hands, stood, and started to pace. He moved back and forth for several passes, then went to the windows and stood before the blackness of the night sky.

  “Jana called me again, about two weeks later. She said she was pregnant. And that was it for me; we reconciled at once, and for a few weeks, everything was wonderful. I was so happy. We both were. But when I asked her about going to the doctor with her, she kept making excuses until she couldn’t anymore. She admitted she’d lied to me. She’d lied about being pregnant and admitted she did it because she still loved me and didn’t want to get divorced. But that’s exactly what happened. I left for good and filed for divorce within the week. I’ve never trusted her since.”

  His admission made CiCi feel ill; the scope of his tragedy wasn’t that he’d lost a child, which would have been horrible.

  It was that he’d lost hope in a future with someone he had loved.

  Hope destroyed by deceit.

  Love killed by a lie.

  That day she’d first seen Jana at the distillery, Walker hadn’t been looking at his former spouse with unrequited, pining love still burning in his soul. He’d been staring at someone he used to love and was still mourning the person he’d lost: someone he had trusted and loved.

  And that person was never coming back.

  He was an emotional widower, with his ex-wife still walking the Earth.

  CiCi felt a short burst of relief at this revelation. Walker didn’t love Jana—the Jana that existed now. He never would again because he couldn’t trust her.

  But she was soon gripped by sickening panic.

  This was a man who wanted a child, and she was almost certain that with her physical condition, she’d never be able to give that to him absent medical interventions that had no guarantee of actually working.

  In the back of her mind a nugget of fear began to gnaw and taunt her: I can’t have a child.

  “It was that lie, CiCi,” he continued. “I’ve never gotten over it. That breach of trust.” She slid off the bed and padded over to him at the window where they embraced. “I’m sorry all this had to happen tonight. I hope you’re not disappointed.”

  She leaned back and looked at him with an astonished glare. “Disappointed? Walker, you chose to trust me with the worst secret you have.”

  “So you’re—what?” he asked, not understanding.

  “Walker, the truth you just told me is horrible. I knew it would be since you chose not to share it until now. Only a very deep hurt is hidden so well. But you trusted me. I’m… honored, I guess is the best way to put it.”

  He held her out at arm’s length. “I love you, CiCi, and I never want to lose you. That’s why I told you. I trust you. I can’t think what it would be like if—”

  She put a finger to his lips and quieted him. She’d heard plenty of attorneys babble on and on, and she could recognize the beginning of a rant.

  Enough with the revelations and angst for one evening. And now was not the time to stop and slip into the gown Hannah had gifted her. CiCi would save it for another date, even more special than this night.

  “Shut up and make love to me,” she commanded.

  Kissing him, she unbuttoned his shirt and moved her fingers lower along the center of his chest until she reached the waistband of his pants. CiCi then set to unbuckling his belt and getting those damn pants off him.

  Walker wasted no time in unzipping CiCi’s dress and slipping his hands inside to unhook her bra. With a few more tugs, the dress was on the floor.

  As was his jaw.

  “Like this color?” she asked.

  CiCi was wearing the dark red satin push-up bra she’d picked up at Booty-Teke. She’d wondered what Walker’s reaction would be once he saw her in the skimpy garment, and the look of shock and lust on his face had made her somewhat extravagant purchase well worth it. He was breathing heavily as his eyes roved over her body, and finally he brought his hands to cup her breasts, his thumbs stroking her nipples beneath the smooth fabric.

  Soon the bra and all other garments were stripped from both their bodies, and they tumbled naked together onto the bed. Walker was a beast: his mouth, his tongue, his hands roved her body, pleasuring, tasting, torturing, and claiming her, leaving CiCi at his mercy, moaning and gasping. She sensed he needed to be in control that night, and willingly gave that comfort to him, happy to be pleasured yet offer relief in her surrender.

  His fingers stroked her, and she arched against him pleadingly. Walker’s need had fueled her own, and she wanted him inside her. She soon had her wish; with little more foreplay, he entered her, stilling himself at the moment of joining.

  “I love you, Catherine. Only, always, forever—you. I would choose you a thousand times in a thousand lifetimes.”

  “And I would love you a thousand times over,” she whispered against his lips.

  Their lovemaking was primal, urgent, and desperate, with both eager to claim and submit. He slowed so she could reach her climax, and he came immediately after, shuddering and moaning against her.

  Walker collapsed on top of her, briefly caught his breath, then rolled away. He pulled her to him and kissed her on the temple.

  “Only you, Catherine. Only you,” was the last thing she heard before falling asleep in his arms.

  * * *

  “Do not even think about answering that,” CiCi warned.

  The phone on the table next to the bed had rung several times, then stopped. Walker wanted no part of whatever was on the other end of that line. Since he hadn’t heard a fire alarm go off, he figured there was no emergency or other imminent peril.

  But after the rings subsided, they began again. The caller was insistent, and against CiCi’s directive, Walker answered.

  “What?” he said thickly.

  “Why didn’t you pick up earlier?” Hannah demanded in a panicky voice.

  Walker rolled CiCi off his chest and sat up in bed. “You really want me to answer that question?” he asked as he stroked CiCi’s arm with a hungry look she returned.

  “Uh… no,” Hannah answered immediately. “Look, we’ve got a problem. It’s Jana.”

  “Jana?” He was angry at being disturbed—and now he was furious about the reason for being disturbed. Not a fire in the hotel or someone locked out of a room. Not even a problem back at the distillery.

  No, it just had to be something to do with her.

  “Yes, she was in a bad car wreck last night. Apparently she decided to go back to Craig County after the banquet. We all thought she was staying here. Anyway, she was in a three-car wreck out on I-64 and is at the University of Louisville Hospital. She’s still i
n a coma, last we heard. We’re all going out to the hospital. Do you know any of her next of kin?”

  “I… I don’t know. Her parents are dead, and she was an only child.”

  “Cousins?”

  “None I can remember.”

  “Great,” Hannah said. “I’d better get to the hospital and see what’s going on, if they’ll tell me anything. Do you mind showing up? I’m sorry to ask, but they might feel better having someone there who’s the closest thing to family she’s got.”

  “But—family—I’m not—”

  “Wait a sec,” Hannah said, thinking out loud and interrupting him. “I’ll call Goose.”

  It was a complete non sequitur, and Walker was baffled by Hannah’s mention of her cousin. Goose had declined to attend the banquet, saying he’d hold the fort down in Bourbon Springs in the others’ absence. Hannah had tried to get him to attend, but to no avail.

  “Goose? What the—”

  “He can send me a copy of her health care directive.”

  “You have a copy of that?”

  “Yeah, I do,” Hannah said. “It’s in her personnel file. We ask employees that do have them to give us a copy, just in case of a problem,” she said.

  Walker vaguely remembered just such a request from Hannah when he’d first started working at the distillery but hadn’t given it another thought until that moment. And then he remembered that when he and Jana had been married they’d executed those documents. But didn’t divorce revoke them?

  “Look, get something to eat and come to the hospital as soon as possible,” Hannah said. “See you there.”

  After feeling a small sense of relief in thinking the divorce had revoked any health care directive where Jana had given him some kind of power, he was at once overwhelmed by regret thinking about the events of the previous night. Had Jana driven away in tears and a frenzy, upset after the incident with his father? Had her emotional state contributed to her accident?

  CiCi gripped his arm and shook him, her face full of fear. “Walker?”

  “Jana’s in the hospital,” he began.

  * * *

  After Walker explained Jana’s situation, they showered (not together, to avoid temptation and save time) and threw on casual clothes, knowing they needed to get to the hospital. But Walker refused to forego the wonderful breakfast he’d planned, although she expected it to be rushed.

  He had ordered their own personal breakfast buffet, delivered at seven thirty and set up in the room in the dining area.

  Maple-pecan-bourbon pancakes, eggs, bacon, sausage, ham, and biscuits and gravy populated the menu. The sweet, savory, and slightly woody smells expanded throughout the spacious penthouse and made CiCi feel like she was in a restaurant rather than a private room.

  As the staff finished and departed, CiCi pursed her lips as she stood before the food and considered her choices. “What kind of joint is this? No grits?” She glanced at a menu card left on the table.

  “You’re complaining about the food?” Walker laughed.

  “Not at all, but in the absence of grits, I seriously question the veracity of their claim that this is a full Southern breakfast, as it says on the menu.”

  They ate quickly, but still enjoyed the food, and were on the way to the hospital within the next hour. All the way there, CiCi kept hoping that Walker’s name wouldn’t be on the health care directive he’d told her about. But something told her that wouldn’t be the case.

  “It’s you,” Hannah said, handing Walker a copy as they entered a bland waiting room in the hospital. “Goose found it this morning.”

  Walker’s face registered shock, then anger. “But we’re divorced.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” Hannah said. “Check the date.”

  Walker did, and CiCi read as she stood next to him. The document was dated only a few months earlier. After they’d divorced.

  Jana had named him as her health care surrogate and hadn’t told him. She’d thought Walker was all she had in the world when it came to life-and-death decisions.

  “Who’s the alternate?” Walker asked, scanning the document, looking for a way out.

  “A second cousin out in Oregon,” Hannah said.

  “I didn’t know she had family out there,” he said, glancing at CiCi. “But still, I can’t do this.” He shook his head and handed the document back to Hannah.

  “Walker, she wanted you to do this for her. She needs you.”

  Walker took a deep breath and looked at Bo, Lila, and Kyle sitting against a far wall in the hospital waiting room where they had gathered to await news of Jana’s condition.

  “Hannah’s right, Walker,” CiCi said.

  “You… you don’t mind?”

  “Whether I mind is the last thing that should be on your mind—or anyone else’s.”

  But she did mind. She was jealous. Walker’s time would be taken up by Jana and her needs, which looked to be plentiful in the foreseeable future.

  It was a bitchy, horrible way to feel—she at least felt guilty about that—but CiCi resolved to keep her feelings to herself rather than admit the truth. Showing her frustration would only reveal her insecurities and wouldn’t help Walker deal with the challenges in the days ahead.

  Walker hugged her. “You are one special woman, CiCi Summers.”

  But CiCi didn’t feel special.

  As she watched Walker and Hannah being led away by a nurse through a large set of doors, that familiar feeling of being alone and abandoned crept up on her, and she was damned if she knew how she was going to shake it.

  30

  CiCi rode back to Bourbon Springs with Bo and Lila in near silence; no amount of idle conversation was going to lift anyone’s spirits in light of the terrible situation. When they dropped CiCi off at her house, Lila nonetheless tried to leave on a cheery note.

  “I’m sure Walker will be back tonight or tomorrow,” Lila said.

  Didn’t happen.

  Walker called her late that evening, saying he’d probably not return for a few days. Jana was still unconscious but, according to the doctors, improving, and he didn’t feel comfortable leaving Louisville under the circumstances.

  So sitting by herself in a bright blue camp chair in front of her house a couple of days later, CiCi watched the annual Independence Day parade slowly snake south on Main Street. The distillery was represented by one vehicle: a large pickup truck purchased at Goose’s urging, according to what Walker had recently mentioned. It was painted—what else—deep red, and on the hood was a stylized Old Garnet logo with the full distillery name on both front doors.

  Goose drove and Bo rode shotgun while Lila and Hannah were in the truck bed, throwing small candies to spectators. CiCi caught Hannah’s eye and waved to her, and Hannah responded by raining down upon her a few handfuls of treats. As the truck drove away, CiCi saw the vehicle’s vanity license plate: GARNET 1. Later in the evening, CiCi joined Bo and Lila at Hannah and Kyle’s house for a cookout and to set off a few small fireworks down by Old Crow Creek. She felt ridiculously lonely and out of place without Walker even though she was with her dearest friends in the world.

  Walker did return the following night, but he was exhausted. After a hastily assembled meal of sandwiches and chips at her house, they collapsed into each other’s arms on the couch, where they fell asleep until after midnight.

  But then Walker woke up.

  And then CiCi was awake.

  And within minutes they were stripping off clothes, grabbing at each other and trying not to break a very long kiss as they disrobed.

  As he pushed her back down onto the couch, CiCi muttered something about going upstairs to her bedroom, but he couldn’t wait.

  “Here,” he uttered. “Now.”

  His lips traced a sensual path from her mouth to her jaw line, down her body to her breasts, where he feasted for several long, exquisite minutes while CiCi wriggled in pleasure beneath him. He sucked and flicked her taut dark pink nipples with his tongue, alter
nating several times between the peaks. Moving his hands lower, he brushed her wetness, stroking her until she thought he was going to make her come. But apparently sensing her climb, he deliberately slowed the movements of his fingers until she was frustrated and moaning. He pulled his lips from her breasts and trailed kisses down the middle of her torso, over her belly until he reached the dark curls above her sex. His tongue edged the line between skin and hair, and CiCi clenched hard around his fingers as they caressed her slick walls.

  She recovered just long enough to level the playing field. CiCi grasped his length tightly, causing him to freeze, then shiver and growl.

  “I guess that’s what you want inside you?” he asked, slipping his hand out of her warmth.

  CiCi kept her grip on him and pumped him firmly. “That answer your question?”

  “Then I’ll be happy to oblige.”

  Walker removed her hand and plunged into her in one quick, hard stroke.

  CiCi gripped his shoulders, then ran her fingers down his sinewy back. With one leg over his, she moved against him slowly but forcefully, reveling in their reunion and wanting to draw out their lovemaking.

  But Walker couldn’t go slowly.

  She had teased him too much, and he had been without her too long. As Walker’s strokes became quicker and quicker, CiCi understood what he sought from her. She thrust against him, matching his hard, forceful lunges, and soon found herself near her own climax when he shuddered and came first. But CiCi kept moving her hips until she was there with him and cried his name as he fell on top of her, panting, relieved, and sated.

  “Sure you want to go?” she asked him half an hour later as she watched him putting on his clothes.

  They had fallen asleep for a short time, but he was soon awake and preparing to leave. Still unclothed and cocooned in a blue-and-white crocheted afghan her mother had made years ago, CiCi wanted to move the party upstairs.

  “Not really,” he said, slipping his T-shirt over his head, “but I need to go home and get some sleep because, let’s face it—if I stay, neither of us will get any rest.”