Tennessee's Whiskey (The Whiskey Collection Book 1)

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Tennessee's Whiskey (The Whiskey Collection Book 1) Page 2

by L. Loren


  “It means, little britches, that it wasn’t very smart for you to waltz your beautiful ass in here thinking you could get by on looks like I’m sure you’ve done most of your short life. In case you haven’t noticed, this bar has a specific clientele, most of whom don’t take to your kind.”

  Hold up, wait a minute! I might have sung that out loud, Chances are I did by the look on the man’s face. I was torn. Nobody had ever called me beautiful and stupid all in the same breath. Should I cuss him out or say thank you? I knew this was a redneck bar, but nobody had been out of line with me since I started working tonight. And it wasn’t about to start with him.

  “What the hell do you mean my kind? You mean beautiful, talented women who know how to mix and mingle with any crowd? Is that the kind you were referring to?”

  A chuckle erupted from the man’s chest and that damn smirk crawled back into place. He shook his head and stuck out his right hand.

  “That’s exactly what I meant.” An awkward silence hovered around us for a brief minute and then he continued the conversation. “The name’s Weston, but you can call me Whiskey. Everybody does.”

  Mmm, Whiskey just like the color of your eyes. I shook his offered hand and immediately pulled my hand away. His hand was smooth like silk, like he had no fingerprints or lines in his hand at all. It gave me the hebbie- jebbies. Rubbing my palms against each other to get the feeling off them, I gave him my name.

  “Pleased to meet you, Whiskey. My name is Pat.”

  “You know you got some balls coming in this bar, as is, but wearing a Tennessee t-shirt in Georgia Bulldog territory is just plain insane.”

  I chuckled at his assessment. Yes, I was in Georgia and yes, I was wearing orange behind enemy lines, but I had my reasons.

  “Pat Summitt is universal. You see this shirt? I wore this shirt when I met the queen of basketball herself. This shirt is legendary just like the lady on it.”

  “If you say so. I will say much respect to Pat Summitt, may she rest in peace.”

  I nodded at his words. People had no choice but to respect my namesake. She was a great lady and no matter what team you cheered for, you had to appreciate her. I smiled at the breath-taking man waiting for him to either tell me to get back to work or get the hell out of his bar. He said nothing, just turned around and headed back to the bar where he had a few people waiting for drinks. I returned to my dirty table and finished cleaning.

  “Hey Tennessee!”

  Whiskey’s voice rang out from the bar over the ear-piercing noise of the jukebox. I looked up, knowing he could only be talking to me.

  “When you’re finished with that table, can I get you to wash a few dishes?”

  Well, I guess I got the job.

  Whiskey

  The beauty, who sauntered her mesmerizing hips into my bar over two hours ago and hired herself, had my attention. The bar was busier than a one-legged man at an ass-kicking contest. With Holly, my regular waitress out sick, I damn sure needed the help. It was selfish on my part.

  When that gorgeous woman walked into my bar, I thought I heard the angels singing. Then I realized it was Dolly on the juke. The woman had gorgeous skin that reminded me of that hazelnut spread my boy liked to eat on his toast. Same color and silky smooth. When she smiled, I wanted to see if she tasted just as sweet. She was young. Too damn young for me. I knew it was wrong to want her, but a man can only control so much. Nature has its own way of doing things. Plus, if she wandered into my bar, she better be at least 21.

  Sugar tits damn sure didn’t carry herself like a teenager. In fact, she ran that floor like she had done it a million times. My customers were happy, even the notorious biker gang, Lords of Death. She made King Pen, their president smile! The man had been coming into my bar for the last ten years and I had never seen him smile. This little minx had him eating out of the palm of her very capable hand in less than five minutes. I could tell she was smart, hard-working and had a great personality. She had to in order to deal with the crowd my bar draws.

  But there was something more to her. Something rare that I just couldn’t put my finger on. Whatever it was, it made her special. Special people needed to be looked after. That’s the way I was brought up. Once I realized she was more than a fat ass and a cute face, I willed Big John to deflate and talked him into staying that way. I couldn’t go sticking my dick in this one. Nope. She deserved better than a one off from the likes of me. That’s why I insulted her by calling her stupid. I knew she would hate it and I was right. The way that woman looked at me should be a sin. If I let her get her claws into me, I would be a dead man. It was best to be mean so she would become disinterested.

  It pissed me the fuck off when I saw how the other men in the bar reacted to those skintight pants she wore over that song inspiring ass of hers. No other man should get to see that. However, she wasn’t mine and she never could be, unless I could figure out a way to age backwards. Hell, I wasn’t trying to pull a Brad Pit and end up in diapers at age 60, so I needed to get her off my mind. They say out of sight out of mind, so I sent her to the kitchen to wash dishes. It was only a temporary reprieve, but it would have to do for now.

  “Hey Whiskey? What’d you do with that pretty little thing who was serving my drinks earlier?”

  King Pen nearly screamed across the room. He was a man of few words, so I knew if he was asking about Tennessee it was for a reason.

  “Why?”

  “Because I’m fucking thirsty and she knows how to keep my glass full. Plus, I was thinking of taking that fine piece of woman home with me tonight when I leave. What time does she get off?”

  Fuck that shit. I didn’t need a war with the Lords of Death, but I’d be damned if I’d let their president fuck my girl. My girl? When the fuck did that happen? Oh yeah, the moment this big fucker decided he was interested in her.

  “She’s not available.”

  “Oh yeah? Who do I have to kill to make her have an opening?”

  “Me, you crazy fuck! She’s mine, so back off.”

  The room got quiet and everyone stopped what they were doing to watch what was going to happen next. I had never been in a biker gang, but I knew plenty of men in the game. I had done my dirt back in the day and had developed quite a reputation in the streets. People knew if they came into Whiskey’s they had a good time, but if you fucked around, I would lay you out. No questions or hard feelings. I really didn’t want to fight five drunk bikers and have to worry about looking over my shoulder every time I breathed for retaliation later, but I wasn’t letting King Pen or any other man around Tennessee.

  The big man stood from his chair in what appeared to be slow motion. His legs unfolded from underneath the table and it seemed like it took him five minutes to reach his full height of 7 feet 2 inches. I was no slouch at 6’4, but the giant towered over me by almost a foot. He stepped to me like he was going to crush my soul. He had heard the rumors about me but had never tempted the fire within me. He didn’t want to feel my wrath.

  “Well, I say she’s coming home with me tonight and I don’t care if she’s your girl. Now, call her out here so she can take a ride on the King Express.”

  I laughed at his trademark line. He used that shitty line with the trashy girls who hovered around biker gangs, but Tennessee would never fall for a line like that. First of all, who advertises that their dick game is two minutes or less? Just stupid.

  “You might want to rethink that line of yours. Express means fast, quick and over before you start. No woman wants to take that ride.”

  The bastard growled at me as the bar erupted in laughter. He wanted to play with fire. It was time for him to get burned. Just as he was gearing up to launch his massive fist toward my head, I got a flash of orange in my peripheral.

  “King Pen, what’s going on? Why are you yelling? Did Whiskey serve you the wrong drink?”

  She took the maniac by the arm and walked him back to his table. I had never seen the man smile two times in one night. She
soothed his beast with one touch on his arm and a sweet smile. Damn! The power of a woman. I watched as she charmed the big fool into laughing and then made her way over to the bar to snag some beers for the man who was about to make me break my hand by pounding his face. As Tennessee walked off with the beers, the front door burst open and in ran my little man.

  What the fuck is he doing here? The answer to my question sauntered in behind him wearing the tightest jeans I have ever seen on a woman. My ex, Beth Ann slung her bleach blonde tresses over her shoulder calling attention to her over inflated breasts that cost me a pretty penny right after my son was born. She complained so much about how breast feeding had made her breast sag that I paid for the surgery just to shut her up. She was one of those girls who was always chasing something better. She barely made time for little Wes, so I wasn’t exactly surprised to see her show up before her weekend with our son barely got started.

  “Daddy!”

  “Hey, little man.”

  I caught my son as he launched his body at me like a missile. He was rough and tumble and the spitting image of his old man. The only reason I got a DNA test was for the courts. I knew he was mine from birth. He had the Daniels genes for sure. My no-good ex took a seat at the bar and looked up at me expectantly. I hated her. She was a horrible girlfriend and an even worse mother. The only reason I tolerated her shit was because my boy deserved to have his mother in his life. Too bad I fucked up and chose the wrong woman for the job.

  “Weston, I need you to take him. I have an audition and I can’t be late.”

  “Audition? I didn’t know you had to try out for stripper poles. What do they do, measure your height and assign the pole accordingly?”

  She rolled her eyes that looked like they had bat wings attached to the lids. Why the hell did women wear those fake eyelashes? They looked like they would take flight at any minute. This woman was getting on my nerves. She knew I had to work and couldn’t have little Wes in the bar. It was a violation and my liquor license could be revoked. I had told her time and again, but she never listened.

  “Funny, but you need to take your son. I have shit to do.”

  “Beth Ann, this is your weekend to spend time with your child. Why did you schedule an audition for tonight? You know I can’t have him here. Look around you. This is a bar!”

  The bitch had the nerve to laugh before standing from her seat and shaking her ass at me. She walked away and then right before she reached the door, turned to look at me over her left shoulder while tossing that damn hair.

  “Deal with it. I’ll see you next month.”

  I wanted to smash every piece of glass I could get my hands on, but little Wes didn’t need to see that shit. Now what was I going to do with little man while the bar was open. His nanny was out of town and there was no one for me to call. My frustration got the best of me and I picked up a glass and flung it across the bar. I was about to fling another one when Tennessee popped up and took it from my hand. Placing it on the counter, she glared at me before turning to Wes and smiling.

  “Well, who is this handsome young man?”

  “My name is Wes. You’re pretty. Wanna be my girl?”

  That was enough to calm the beast inside me. My boy was just like his old man, only I didn’t ask for relationships. He was too young to learn that lesson though. Curious to see her reaction, I leaned against the bar and folded my arms over my chest.

  “Wow, that is the best offer I have had in a very long time. How old are you?”

  “I’m this many.” My son held his hand up and counted to five for the pretty lady who was smiling at him like he was the only person in the room. Wes wasn’t used to being the center of a woman’s attention unless they were trying to get in good favor with me.

  “You are very tall for five and handsome too. But to be my boyfriend you have to have a job. Do you have a job, Wes?”

  My son sat looking at the woman who had captured his heart in just a moment of knowing her, and thought. His brow furrowed and then a lightbulb went off. You could see it in his eyes the moment it happened. He smiled up at Tennessee like she hung the moon. He opened his little lips and what came out next shocked even me.

  “I have a job and it is important. I take care of Daddy.”

  He nodded his head like it was the best answer in the world and to me it was. We had had that conversation before. I told him my job was to take care of him, but he felt left out so I told him his was to take care of me. I guess he took it to heart.

  “Wow! That’s a very big job! I bet you’re good at it too.”

  He looked at me for confirmation. I smiled and nodded my head, giving him the go ahead.

  “Yep. So now you can be my girl.”

  “Hold on! I have one more question. How much does that job pay because we can’t live off of love alone?”

  My little man rubbed his hands together as his little mind worked to find a solution to his new problem. He wasn’t old enough to have an allowance yet so that was a no go. He had a piggy bank, but it wasn’t nearly full. He scratched his head and looked to me for help. I laughed and shook my head.

  “Oh no, don’t look at me. I’m not paying for your girlfriends. If you want a good woman like Tennessee, here, you got to get a job. That’s the only way you can keep her. You have to take her out on dates and buy her ice cream and pretty jewelry. All of that takes money.”

  “Well,” he says, “as soon as I get a job, I’ll come back and ask you again.”

  Tennessee chuckled and gave him a hug. “I’ll be waiting with bated breath.”

  I watched as my little boy fell hard for his first crush. If he were a cartoon character, his heart would be beating outside of his chest. It was the cutest thing I had ever seen. I definitely couldn’t blame him. She was bewitching. If I had it in me to settle down, she would be on my radar.

  I also noticed the way Tennessee took to my boy. It was so natural for her. She spoke to him like he mattered, not like most adults addressed kids his age. There was no baby talk or trying to be cute. She carried a conversation on his level but treated him as an equal. I could tell it made him feel important. He never spoke to his mother for this long. He would usually revert back to being a baby, talking like a two year old. In five minutes of being around Tennessee, he was asking her to be his woman. What a difference a good woman can make.

  Just when I thought it couldn’t get any better, Tennessee reached down and took hold of Wes’ hand. She looked to me for permission before offering to take him into my office to hang out.

  “You know what, big guy, this bar is stinky and loud. What do you say we go in your dad’s office and watch a movie?”

  “But there’s no TV in there.”

  “We don’t need no stinking TV. I have a secret weapon. You ever watched movies on an iPad™?”

  My son about burst his gut jumping up and down.

  “Can we, Dad? Can we?”

  “How could I say no after that display?” I looked at Tennessee giving her my serious face. “Nothing other than rated PG. If my boy has a nightmare, so will you.” I winked at her as she clutched her imaginary pearls.

  “I would never give a child nightmares. I am offended.”

  She laughed as she snagged her bag from behind the bar and walked toward my office with my son attached to her arm. I am gonna have to talk with that boy. If he acts like that with a real girlfriend, he’ll be toast. I was raising Alpha males in my house. No little whiny betas who are led around by their cocks. Not on my watch.

  Tennessee

  I almost swooned when I saw the little cherub face of mini Wes standing in the bar. He was wearing the cutest little expression when he noticed me. I had seen the look before from men, but never a little boy. There was a grown man hiding in his eyes just bursting at the seams to get out. His inability to control himself made me chuckle. Luckily, my new boss was the type of man who didn’t strike his kid. I could tell he was a loving father who doted on his son. It was endearing. T
here was no ring on his hand, so he appeared to be was single. When the blonde woman dropped the little boy off, it was clear Whiskey hated her.

  There was no love lost between the two. As I observed from across the room, it appeared she definitely was not winning the Mother of the Year Award. It was a shame the boy had to be subjected to that behavior, but he would soon be immune. If it’s one thing I knew, it’s toxic parenting. I survived the foster care system and it was no easy task. Dealing with people who were supposed to care for you, but only wanted a check, can affect a child’s psyche in a negative way. Thank goodness I read tons of books. Otherwise I may have let my situation rule my life and turn me bitter.

  As of now, I had a cute little boy to entertain. I went to my bag and retrieved my iPad™ and pulled up my favorite movie, The Lion King™. Growing up it was my go-to movie whenever I was scared. I always wanted to go to Broadway and see it in person, but never made it.

  “What’s that?”

  “This is my favorite movie. It’s called The Lion King™ and it is AWESOME!”

  “AWESOME!!!”

  Wes repeated my enthusiasm, adding a fist pump and a little wiggle. We both laughed as he settled next to me to watch the movie. We made it through the sad part where the father died. I was a little concerned, but he took it like a champ. As soon as the pig and his buddy hit the screen for their first big number, Wes was dancing and singing along with me. We had such a great time watching the movie. I taught him all the songs and we made up our own moves. I couldn’t believe he had never seen the movie before. Thirty minutes in, Wes was curled up on my lap snoring.

  Careful not to wake him, I laid him on the couch and covered him with a blanket that was folded on the armrest. He was such a sweet kid. He looked like a little angel when he slept. Well, if angels snored like grown men. Wow! That kid had a set of lungs on him. Brushing the hair from his face, I leaned in and kissed his forehead. Force of habit, I guess. I always did that to the kids in the home when they fell asleep after I read them a story. I was the oldest and it was my responsibility to make sure they felt loved in some way. Even in their sleep.

 

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