Bourbon Bliss: Bootleg Springs Book Four

by Kingsley, Claire

  Scarlett laughed. “You’re kidding.”

  “Nope,” Leah Mae said. “He crumpled to the floor and everyone was so busy making sure he was okay, I just stood there, bleeding all over the place. I limped to the bathroom by myself, then called my mom to come pick me up.”

  “That is an unfortunate turn of events,” I said.

  “My date didn’t faint, but he did get so drunk he spent the entire night puking out back behind the gym,” Cassidy said.

  “I remember that,” Scarlett said. “And I was covered in mud because Freddy Sleeth’s tire went flat on the way to the dance, and he didn’t know how to change it himself.”

  “If I recall, you were still crowned prom queen,” Cassidy said.

  “Course I was,” Scarlett said, then she winced. “Aw, dang, Cass, I got drunk that night, too, didn’t I? You had to deal with a drunk date and a drunk best friend.”

  “Mm-hmm,” Cassidy hummed, tugging on my hair. “That’s okay, though. We did a lot of dumb things back then.”

  “We’re much more mature now,” Scarlett said, pointing the nail polish brush at Cassidy. “Although not too mature.”

  “Amen to that, too,” Cassidy said. She fluffed my hair. “All right, Juney, I think we’re done.”

  “Wait, don’t let her look until she gets dressed,” Leah Mae said. “It’ll be like a makeover reveal.”

  “Good idea,” Cassidy said.

  They blocked me from the mirror and ushered me into my parents’ bedroom, where our dresses were laid out in garment bags on the bed.

  We’d all gone dress shopping together over in Perrinville—me, Cassidy, Mom, Scarlett, and Leah Mae. The clerks had looked at us funny as we’d tried on dozens of prom dresses, but we hadn’t cared. We’d made a day of it, including lunch with mimosas.

  I’d chosen a peach dress with a subtle vintage look. Leah Mae had taken it home with her, saying she wanted to add a little flair. Make it more June, whatever that meant.

  Now she took the garment bag with my dress and lowered the zipper. “I’m so nervous all of a sudden. I hope you love it.”

  The dress that emerged from the black bag was like something out of a dream. The top still looked similar to its original design—light peach with cap sleeves and a V-shaped dip at the neck. Leah Mae had added a gold ribbon along the neckline that tied in a small bow in the center. The gold set off the peach perfectly, adding a sparkly touch to the dress.

  But it was the lower part of the dress that made my breath catch. She’d sewn on dozens of little gold butterflies all over the skirt. Beginning at the waist, they were sparse, growing thicker toward the hem. The bottom swarmed with them, their tiny wings glittering in the light.

  I touched my hand to my mouth. “Oh.”

  “Do you like it?” Leah Mae asked.

  “Put it on,” Scarlett breathed.

  I couldn’t find the words to answer—just stood in stunned silence while the girls helped me out of the button-down flannel shirt I’d been wearing, and into the dress.

  “Careful of her hair.”

  “Oh my god.”

  “Oh, Juney.”

  Leah Mae zipped up the back. “What do you think?”

  I stepped into the bathroom and gazed into the full-length mirror. I didn’t recognize the woman staring back at me. Her dark blond hair was down, soft curls framing her face. Her eyes stood out against her pale skin. Long lashes. Shiny peach lips.

  But the dress. It hugged my curves—look at that, I had curves—and the color made my skin look as if I was illuminated from inside. The gold touches at the neckline were lovely, but those butterflies. They sparkled when I moved, making the dress look positively magical.

  “I’m almost without words,” I said, my voice soft. “Telling you it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen would be the truth, and still not adequate to describe how much I love it.”

  Leah Mae clasped her hands at her chest and scrunched her shoulders. “Really? As soon as you tried this on in the store, I had a vision of what it could be. I kept seeing you as a butterfly, emerging from your cocoon.”

  “Damn it, Leah Mae, now you’ll have to fix my makeup,” Scarlett said, wiping tears from her cheeks.

  “Mine too,” Cassidy said, sniffing.

  I brushed my hands down my waist and hips. “I can’t imagine how much time this took. The workmanship is incredible.”

  “I had some late nights,” Leah Mae said. “But I loved making it. And look at you. It was worth it.”

  “Thank you,” I said. “This means so much.”

  We finished getting ready together in my parents’ bedroom. Cassidy did Scarlett’s hair while Leah Mae did hers. My mom came in and burst into tears when she saw me in my dress. She and my dad were attending the dance as well—it seemed just about everyone in Bootleg who was over the age of twenty-one would be there. Cassidy and Leah Mae fussed over Mom’s hair and makeup until they were all satisfied.

  “Ladies,” my dad called from downstairs. “There’s a fancy limousine outside. I believe your dates have arrived.”

  My mom descended the stairs first, dressed in a beautiful blue gown that set off her eyes. Dad, looking dashing in his suit with his mustache neatly trimmed, watched her in awe. He took her hands when she reached the bottom, and stared at her for a long moment.

  “You look more beautiful than ever,” he said, his voice soft.

  The other men congregated near the front door, eyes trained on us. Bowie wore a sleek black tux, complete with a purple bow tie to match Cassidy’s purple dress. Devlin looked like a model in a magazine with his slate gray suit and ascot. Even Jameson had dressed for the occasion, in a black tux much like Bowie’s. He had a pale pink handkerchief in his jacket pocket, sparkling with tiny sequins, just like Leah Mae’s dress.

  George waited behind the rest of the men. His dark suit fit his broad shoulders and tall stature perfectly. He had a little gold butterfly—just like the ones on my dress—pinned to his lapel. Leah Mae had thought of everything.

  Scarlett took to the stairs. She’d opted for a short red dress with a tulle skirt and cowboy boots. Devlin watched her like he was ready to rip that dress right off her.

  Cassidy went next, her deep purple dress rustling around her legs. The way Bowie looked at her made me smile, and I had to bite my lower lip to keep the tears from my eyes. His face practically shone with happiness, like he couldn’t imagine anything better in the entire world than my sister.

  It struck me how many times I’d seen my dad look at my mom with that same gleam in his eyes.

  Jameson chewed his lower lip as Leah Mae walked down in her pale pink dress, the fabric shimmering in the light. Her blond hair was up, emphasizing her tall, willowy frame. He scooped her into his arms and pressed his cheek to hers.

  It was my turn. All eyes lifted, waiting for me to descend. My heart fluttered with sudden nervousness, my tummy tingling.

  Plucking the skirt of my dress between my thumb and finger so I wouldn’t trip, I held it up slightly and walked down the stairs. I rarely wore heels, but I’d found a pair that weren’t too high, so I didn’t feel like I was in danger of falling.

  Everyone watched, but the second I met George’s eyes, I forgot about the rest of them. He was all that existed in the world. His eyes, crinkling at the corners with his smile. The dimples puckering his cheeks. His expression was awed, as if he couldn’t quite believe it was me.

  When I got to the bottom, George stepped forward and took my hands in his.

  “Hi, beautiful,” he said softly.

  My breath caught in my throat and my skin buzzed with excitement. This was really happening. Me, in a fancy dress, with a handsome date for the prom. For the second time today, I was rendered almost speechless.

  “You look remarkable,” I said, and it was such a vast understatement, it almost felt like a lie. He looked gorgeous. Delectable. Handsome. Wondrous. Sexy. Too many adjectives burst through my brain. I couldn’t keep up with
them.

  “Oh June Bug,” he said, his voice low. “I’m nothing compared to you. You’re a vision tonight.”

  The men had gone all-in with the prom theme, and brought us each a flower corsage to wear on our wrist. George had chosen white and peach flowers with tiny pearls for mine, matching my dress. He slid the band around my wrist, then leaned in to kiss my forehead.

  “Are y’all ready?” Dad asked. “Your driver’s waiting.”

  Mom and Dad were driving separately, but the rest of us went outside and piled into the waiting limousine. I’d never been in a limo before, and I wondered where they’d even found one. There wasn’t a limo to be found in Bootleg Springs. He must have come from a neighboring town.

  The seats were plush leather and there was an ice bucket with a bottle of champagne. Bowie poured for everyone as the driver pulled out onto the street.

  “We have another stop to make,” Bowie said. “We’re picking up Jonah and Lacey, too.”

  The rest of us waited in the big limo while he stopped at Lacey’s house to pick up our last couple. Jonah looked very nice in a dark gray suit and tie. Lacey wore a light blue dress with a long slit up the side. They got in and sat side by side. The driver shut the door behind them and once again, we were off.

  We were minutes from the high school, so the driver must have taken a longer route, or perhaps driven a loop around town, giving us time to finish our champagne.

  By the time we got to the high school, everyone was laughing, cheeks flushed. George helped me out of the car, then offered me his arm. I tucked my hand in the crook of his elbow, took a deep breath, and walked in to my first ever formal dance.

  The gym had been transformed into everything I’d imagined a prom to be. Streamers, balloons, twinkle lights. A big banner said Welcome to the Bootleg Springs Do-Over Prom. A photographer had a backdrop set up in a corner, and there were snacks and refreshments on folding tables. Colored lights flickered around the dance floor. Gibson, Hung, and Corbin occupied the small stage, already playing a set.

  Couples—wearing everything from sequined prom dresses and rented tuxes to vintage outfits that looked like they might have been their original prom attire fifty years ago—danced, ate, drank, and mingled. My parents were there, holding hands near the moonshine fountain. Bernie O’Dell had traded his customary overalls for a hickory shirt and brand-new jeans. Opal Bodine—no relation to Scarlett—wore a black dress and a bow in her hair, rather than a baseball cap.

  Granny Louisa and Estelle were there, both wearing silver and black. Wade Zirkel had brought Zadie Rummerfield. He saw our group coming and suddenly turned in the other direction. Bootleg Justice wasn’t soon forgotten.

  Everywhere I looked, I saw familiar faces. People decked out in their best, dancing, nibbling on snacks, or drinking punch and moonshine. Music filled the air and the lights danced off the decorations. Even the sight of Misty Lynn Prosser making eyes at Gibson Bodine as he sang, although she was here with Rhett Ginsler, didn’t dampen my enjoyment of the evening.

  It was amazing.

  Gibson and his band rolled into a new song. Tennessee Whiskey.

  “Shall we?” George asked, taking my hand and nudging me toward the dance floor. “I feel like this is our song.”

  I nodded, and he led me onto the dance floor. One hand went to my lower back, the other tucked my hand against his chest. We swayed to the slow beat of the music, and I closed my eyes, letting myself feel.

  “So, what do you think?” George asked.

  “About what?” I opened my eyes and looked up at him.

  “All this,” he said.

  “It’s wonderful. I need to thank whoever had the idea for this dance.”

  George grinned. “Can I confess something?”

  I raised my eyebrows. “Yes.”

  “It was me.”

  It took a second for what he meant to sink in. “You? The dance was your idea?”

  He nodded, still smiling.

  “Did you…” I almost couldn’t utter the words, it was too stunning. “Did you do this for me?”

  “Yes, June Bug. I did this for you. I wanted you to have this experience. And I wanted you to have it with me.”

  Tears burned my eyes and I found myself having the ludicrous thought that if I cried, I’d ruin my makeup. “This is the most wonderful thing anyone has ever done for me.”

  “I’ve got a lifetime of wonderfuls in store for you. You’re mine, my pretty little butterfly. And I intend to keep you.”

  39

  George

  I really did like dancing.

  My arms around June, holding her close. Her body pressed against me as we moved to the music. We’d had a little moonshine and some cherry cheesecake cups that were to die for. Wandered around and chatted with friends. Posed for pictures. Joked. Laughed. Danced. A damn near perfect evening.

  I indulged in a little self-congratulation at having pulled this off. It looked like most people were having a great time. Bootleg residents of all ages, from their early twenties to their nineties, had come—some as couples, some in groups. There were dresses, tuxes, suits, hats, canes, and even someone’s dog running around in a little black bow tie.

  It felt good to have made this happen for June. I hadn’t foisted it off on an assistant. I’d handled most of the details myself. Sure, a lot of people had been in on the planning and execution. I couldn’t have done it alone. But I’d had a big idea and I’d made it happen. It shored up my confidence quite a bit, even if it was just a silly dance.

  But the way June beamed at me, looking like a dream on wings tonight, made it seem not the least bit silly at all.

  We took a break from the dance floor and moved off to the side. The party was still going strong, but I hadn’t seen Bowie and Cassidy in quite some time. Scarlett and Devlin had disappeared early as well. Although we’d all taken the limo together, each of us had parked our cars here at the high school so we could leave whenever we wanted.

  I happened to know Bowie had rented a hotel room to make the prom night experience complete. I’d thought about doing the same. But I didn’t want to put pressure on June. Did I hope to hit a grand slam home run tonight? Of course I did. I was aching for her something fierce. But her being ready was far more important than the pressure of my persistent erection.

  “It appears that Jonah is leaving,” June said, gesturing toward the door.

  I was about to snicker and say something about him getting lucky, but he was alone. “Where’s Lacey?”

  “Uh-oh.” June nodded toward the dance floor.

  Lacey was cozied up with a man who was not Jonah Bodine.

  “Who’s he?” I asked.

  “Amos Sheridan. He’s Cassidy’s ex-boyfriend.”

  There was nothing subtle about the way Amos held Lacey. They were pressed close together, her arms tight around his neck, his hands almost too low on her backside to be decent.

  I looked back at the door. Jonah paused, casting a glance over his shoulder toward the dance floor. He shook his head and left.

  “Ouch,” I said. “That sucks. Poor Jonah.”

  “I knew he shouldn’t have taken Lacey Dickerson to the prom,” June said. “Maybe I shouldn’t have kept my misgivings to myself.”

  “He’ll be all right. Jonah’s a good guy. He just needs to meet the right girl.”

  “I agree. But I have a strong urge to make Lacey pay for ditching Jonah.”

  “Slow down, tiger.” I traced my fingers down the side of her cheek. “Maybe Bootleg Justice can wait this time.”

  The corner of her mouth tugged upward in a little grin and there was a mischievous sparkle in her eyes. “Speaking of Bootleg Justice… earlier you confessed to all this.” She gestured at the decked-out gym. “I have a confession as well.”

  “Oh yeah?”

  “I was the one who got Andrea to drop her lawsuit. Cassidy and I did some research and discovered she owned the Jersey Chaser website.” She hesitated, chewing her
bottom lip. “I confronted her with it and she agreed to drop the suit.”

  Chuckling, I pulled her against me. “June Bug. What am I going to do with you?”

  “Are you angry?” she asked, looking up at me. Her eyes were big and round, but she wasn’t trying to play cute to manipulate me. June didn’t know how to play cute, and I loved that about her. She was really worried I’d be upset.

  “I’m not mad.” I leaned down and kissed her forehead. “Just promise me you didn’t do anything illegal.”

  “Cassidy was there.”

  “That doesn’t really answer my question, but… okay.” I kissed her again, deciding it was probably best if I didn’t know the details. “Thanks for having my back.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  She trailed her fingers up my forearm. I’d taken off my jacket and rolled up my sleeves. Her touch was warm and tempting.

  I leaned down, capturing her lips with mine. I’d kissed her a hundred times tonight—she looked so good, she was impossible to resist—but this kiss was different. It was more. Her tongue lapped against mine hungrily and she grabbed my shirt, tugging me closer.

  There were too many people around for me to kiss her the way I wanted. Taking her hand, I led her through a set of double doors.

  We emerged into a dark hallway lined with lockers. Something primal roared to life inside me. I pushed June up against one of the metal locker doors and delved into her mouth. She grabbed the back of my neck, pulling me to her, like she needed me as much as I needed her.

  Her hands traced a path down my chest, over my abs, to the waistband of my pants. I was already hard, but her hands near my dick made me groan.

  “Maybe we should go,” I said between kisses.

  “Mm-hmm.”

  Neither of us made a move to stop making out. But we seemed to be alone, so a few more minutes wouldn’t hurt anything.

  Her hand slid down and she grabbed my cock through my pants.

  I growled. “June.”

  She squeezed. “I want this.”