On the Rocks Read online

  I dragged myself out of the car, exhausted and ready for a hot shower and my bed, but the sight of a familiar car next to my dad’s truck in the driveway made me pause.

  Before I could even register what that car meant, the voice that belonged to it spoke in the darkness.

  “There she is.”

  Anthony trotted down the steps of the front porch, his wide and brilliantly white smile visible even in the dim light of the night. He held his arms open, but my feet remained glued to the spot I stood.

  “Come here, beautiful,” he said, taking my hesitance for shock as he chuckled and pulled me into his chest. He wrapped his arms around me, swaying me in a hug before he pulled back and framed my face with his hands. “God, I’ve missed you.”

  His lips were on me in the next second, kissing me with the longing of the last few weeks we’d been apart. I didn’t come to until halfway through it, and when I did, I wrapped my arms around his waist, kissing him in return as my mind reeled.

  And I couldn’t figure out why when his lips were on me, I was still thinking about Noah.

  When Anthony pulled back, he wrapped me in his arms again, threading his hands on the small of my back as he smiled down at me. He was tall, body built like a brick wall from playing lacrosse his entire life. His bicep muscles were the size of my thighs, and with them encompassing me like that, I felt an equal measure of warmth and confinement.

  “Shocked?” he asked with an amused smile when I still didn’t say anything. His blond hair was styled in a neat wave, his hazel eyes matching the hue of mine. He reminded me a little of a Ken doll, or Superman, or a combination of the two with his cleft chin and strong jaw line, his face freshly shaved and smooth, his skin a perfect shade of bronze.

  I nodded, forcing a smile.

  He chuckled. “I thought you’d be. Where have you been? I’ve been waiting all night to see this look on your face.”

  Panic zipped through me, but I swallowed it down, running my hands over his chest. “Oh, just at the nursing home. I didn’t know I had such a surprise waiting for me.”

  Warmth touched his eyes. “My girl, always the giving heart.” He shook his head, leaning down to peck my lips before he pulled back again. “One of the things I love most about you.”

  My smile was genuine this time, and I mentally slapped the guilt I felt away. I hadn’t done anything wrong with Noah. We hadn’t actually kissed. It was a mistake, a weak moment where I was too close to him, too close to my feelings of anxiety surrounding the wedding.

  It could happen to anyone.

  But it wouldn’t happen again.

  I pulled Anthony in for another kiss to seal that promise to myself, and when I pulled back, he threaded his hand in mine, tugging me toward the house.

  “What are you doing here, anyway?” I asked. “And how long are you here?”

  “Well…” he said, and before he could answer, he swung the door open and Mama bounded toward me, wrapping me in her arms in an excited hug.

  “Oh, Ruby Grace! You’re home!” She squeezed me tight before pulling back and framing my arms in her hands. “Can you believe it? Anthony surprised us all this afternoon. And he’s staying until the wedding! I’m just so thrilled!”

  My brows shot up. “You are?” I asked Anthony.

  “I am,” he said, a soft grin on his perfect lips. “We’ve been getting a lot of media attention with me running for state representative, and it seems that marrying you is everyone’s favorite topic. Can’t say that I blame them,” he said, chucking my chin. “Anyway, Dad thought it would be good to capitalize on all the attention. He sent me out here with a small film crew. They’re going to film us preparing for the wedding, capture our love story for the media outlets and possibly some campaign commercials. Don’t worry,” he said when he saw the worry in my eyes. “They won’t be with us all the time. And we’ll have a say in what they can use.”

  I nodded through my discomfort, especially since I couldn’t quite place its origin. Was it the thought of cameras following me that made my stomach lurch like that, or the fact that Anthony was in my hometown to stay for the next five weeks?

  And if that was the case, why did it make me uncomfortable?

  “Oh, I just can’t believe it!” Mama said, clapping her hands together. “I’ll have to plan a dinner this week for the crew. We can all get to know each other and I’ll make my famous lemon bar cookies. We’re just so thrilled to have you, Anthony!”

  She wrapped him up in her arms before scurrying off, calling down the hallway for Dad to come join us in the living room for a night cap.

  I stood in the foyer in a daze, blinking repeatedly, sensing the disarray of my hair as if it were the only sense I could focus on in that moment. I smoothed my hands over the frizzy curls, over and over, staring at the family photo that greeted all our guests who entered the house.

  “Hey,” Anthony said, taking my face in his hands. He leveled his gaze with mine. “I know this is a lot, and surprises aren’t really your thing. Why don’t you run up and take a shower, get changed, take some time for yourself. I’ll handle entertaining your parents until you feel ready to come down and join us. Okay?”

  My heart squeezed painfully in my chest. He was so aware of my needs, of who I was, and I’d just been in the arms of another man. I wanted to cry, to throw myself into his arms and beg for forgiveness, but I didn’t even know what to apologize for.

  Or, maybe part of that came from the fact that I wasn’t sorry, not the way I should have been.

  “Okay,” I said, eyes watering a little as I nodded.

  Anthony kissed my forehead in understanding, and once he let me go, I dragged myself up the stairs and to my room. Anthony’s stuff was in the guest room down the hall, and I passed it, eyeing the luggage before I swept into my own room and locked the door behind me.

  I ran the shower water as hot as I could stand, hoping it would scald away my guilt, my confusion, my warring thoughts.

  My fiancé was in town. He would be here to help with planning, with all the decisions. We’d be able to spend time together, celebrate this time leading up to our wedding like a normal couple.

  The man I loved was here, and I wanted to find relief in that, to wrap myself up in the comfort of his arms.

  I just had to fight through the feeling of suffocation, first.

  Noah

  Against my strongest urges, I left Ruby Grace alone after that night at my house.

  I told myself it was because I was respecting her claim that she loved Anthony, and that he loved her, but the truth was probably somewhere more along the lines that I knew I’d see her later that week. I fought the urge to text or call her Monday through Wednesday because I knew on Thursday, I’d get to see her in person.

  And I always did my best work in person.

  I needed to apologize, that much I knew fairly clearly. I didn’t necessarily want to, because the bigger part of me wasn’t sorry for pulling her close on my porch, for nearly kissing her, for calling her out on the bullshit rules of the marriage she was about to enter into. I didn’t want her to give up her dreams for his.

  There should have been balance, and room for both.

  I didn’t know why I felt so passionately about it, why it irked me so much that she was so willing to push everything she wanted aside for him. More sane people might have seen it as an honorable sacrifice. But me? I thought of my parents, of how Mom supported Dad in all his aspirations at the brewery while he supported her dreams when it came to building our family. They respected each other, and not one part of the team was more important than the other.

  I wanted that for me.

  And for some unbeknownst reason, I wanted it for Ruby Grace, too.

  So, on Thursday, the night of the annual Scooter Whiskey Single Barrel Soirée, I went over everything I’d say to her while my hands worked on autopilot getting the event ready.

  “Can you even imagine what it would be like,” PJ spoke through grunts as he
unloaded another barrel from the truck. “To have enough money to just blow fifteen grand on a barrel of whiskey?”

  I smirked, reading the name inscribed on the golden plate of the barrel he’d just pulled off the truck. I scribbled a check next to the one on my sheet, nodding to Marty, who loaded it onto a dolly and took it on down the line to the buyer’s VIP tent.

  “Trust me, if I had money like that, I wouldn’t be blowing it on alcohol,” he continued.

  “Oh, yeah? What would you spend it on, PJ?” Eli teased, leaning one elbow on a barrel. “Let me guess. Hookers.”

  The guys snickered while PJ turned a bright red. “No,” he answered quickly. “I get plenty of sex. For free.”

  “Right,” Eli said. “And Noah is celibate.”

  “Hey, don’t drag the innocent bystander into this,” I said, chuckling as I checked off another barrel before sending it down the line.

  “I don’t, nor would I ever, pay for sex,” PJ insisted again. When no one answered with more than a lifted brow, he threw his hands up in the air before letting them hit his thighs with a slap and a groan. “You guys suck.”

  We all laughed at that, me ruffling his hair before telling him we were just teasing. He was the youngest, just like a little brother to us, and we couldn’t help it. He didn’t seem appeased, but he got back to work, each of us falling into the groove as Eli rambled on about what he would buy if he had stupid money.

  They didn’t ask me what I would do, and I was glad for it. I probably would have lost a few of my man points if I told them the truth. All I’d want is a modest house, big enough for my family and my horse. I’d want to spend our time traveling or farming or building memories together, never working another day in my life and making it so my wife wouldn’t have to, either. Not unless she wanted to.

  That thought was still in my mind when Ruby Grace’s barrel stopped at my feet.

  I stared at the cursive loops of her name on the gold plate, tracing them a little longer than necessary before I checked the box next to her name and sent the barrel on. My eyes followed it halfway to the buyer’s tent, pulse picking up speed at the thought of talking to her tonight.

  It made no sense. I didn’t know what I expected to get out of any of it. She was getting married — in less than five weeks, no less. I had nothing to offer her that she didn’t already have and she couldn’t give me a single thing more than what she already had.

  And yet, there was some part of me that desired her, that needed her in whatever way I could get her.

  I didn’t really give a fuck if it was right or wrong.

  I was still analyzing it all, trying to pinpoint what it was about that girl that got under my skin, when the rest of the guys and I retreated to the staff tent to freshen up before the opening speech from Patrick Scooter. In less than an hour, the entire Scooter estate would be littered with people from Stratford and the surrounding area. It was the biggest party of the year, a time when no matter where you lived or how much money you made, you got to come together with the rich and the fabulous and drink the same whiskey as them. For one night, our town was united — though everyone would likely still stay in their little circles.

  The band was already playing when I emerged from the staff tent, dressed in my good blue jeans and white, button-up shirt. I left the top button unfastened, rolled the sleeves up to just under my elbows, and topped the whole look off with my best cowboy boots and my favorite cowboy hat. It was a Stetson, made of premium wool that matched the dark mocha brown of my boots, and before it was mine, it had been my father’s.

  Gus had me running around, greeting the barrel buyers I’d worked with throughout the season, making sure they knew where their barrel was to take home after the event and getting them set up in the VIP area with whatever they needed. I’d take pictures of them with their barrels, introduce them to the rest of the barrel raising team as well as the scientists behind the creation of their unique whiskey, and answer any questions they had before moving on to the next.

  This was my element.

  I knew whiskey. I knew Scooter Whiskey. I knew the barrel raising process, the science behind our whiskey, what we could and what we couldn’t tell the buyers about the product they’d paid top dollar for. I knew how to charm a crowd, how to impress someone and make them feel good about blowing all that money, and how to represent our company the same way my father had.

  What I didn’t know was what to do when Ruby Grace walked into the VIP tent hanging on her fiancé’s arm.

  I knew he was Anthony without needing an introduction. He just looked like a politician — all navy suit, complete with tie and pocket square, dress shoes shined to perfection, hair styled in an immaculate wave like one you’d see on the red carpet at a Hollywood award show. He carried himself with a mixture of arrogance and confidence, a balance not many men could pull off. He was both welcoming and threatening all at once, and I found myself hating him before I even had reason to.

  Maybe it was because of the girl he held by the waist.

  A small crew of cameras and microphones followed them around, staying back just enough to give them space while capturing every interaction they had. I assumed it was something he was doing while running for office, some sort of propaganda. Anthony seemed to shine with those cameras on him.

  Ruby Grace seemed to want to disappear.

  She didn’t even notice me, not with Anthony toting her around from group to group, a politician’s smile on his face while she wore a more subdued smile of her own. I watched her for a long while, and I noticed she did nothing more than shake the hand of whomever they were talking to before Anthony would take over, commanding all the attention, leading the conversation.

  She was a sidekick, a wallflower, and it made absolutely no sense to me.

  If he would let her speak, she’d steal the show. It would be her everyone wanted to know. It would be Ruby Grace who would light up the room with her smile, knock men on their asses with the modest yet somehow classically sexy emerald dress she wore. The collar was high, the sleeves covering her shoulders and upper arms, but the hem of the skirt cut just above her knees, showing her deadliest weapons — those killer legs.

  But it wasn’t just the way she dressed, or her body, or her smile or her fire-red hair. It was her passionate and giving heart, her quick and witty banter, her intelligence that made her stand out.

  No one would know that, though. Not if he never let her speak.

  I tore my eyes away from her long enough to toast a glass of whiskey with two buyers I’d met in the winter. They had traveled all the way from California to pick up their barrel and spend a week in Tennessee. The barrel they’d selected had high notes of vanilla and nutmeg, giving it a holiday feel that captured their hearts since they had visited during Christmas break when they bought it. The whiskey warmed its way down my throat, settling in my stomach along with the dozen other ounces of whiskey I’d tried when welcoming our guests.

  It was a perk of the job, and right now, it was also the liquid courage I needed.

  “Enjoy the rest of your evening, Mr. and Mrs. Wheeland. I’ll be around if you need anything at all.” I shook their hands, offering a tip of my hat before I excused myself.

  And then I made a beeline for Ruby Grace.

  Her eyes were distant, a little glossed as she listened to the woman Anthony had engaged in conversation with. She stood with her husband, too, both of their gazes fixed on Anthony while Ruby Grace stood there like his shadow.

  Those hazel eyes popped to life when they saw me.

  At first, she didn’t register me. But on a double take, her eyes widened, brows rising just marginally as I made my way toward her. I was confident in my walk, slow and purposeful, letting her drink me in as I crossed the space between us. She’d never seen me dressed up like this, and the flush of her cheeks told me she was affected. I wondered if she was thinking about us standing together on my porch, of my hands in her hair, my lips grazing hers before my brother
forced us to tear apart.

  The way her ruby lips parted, I would have bet money that she was.

  It shouldn’t have brought me satisfaction, not with my intention of apologizing to her and setting everything straight between us. I knew I needed to fall into the friend zone, that that was all we could be.

  But damnit if seeing her there with him didn’t light the other fire inside of me, the one that said a feverous mine, over and over and over again.

  Her eyes shifted from something between desire and shock to warning and anger the closer I got. She didn’t want me there. She was likely still pissed about what had transpired between us Sunday night, and she likely didn’t want me bringing it up in front of her fiancé.

  And I wouldn’t. I was a gentleman, after all.

  But I was still going to talk to her.

  I slid my hands into the pockets of my jeans, sidling up next to Ruby Grace with my eyes on her fiancé as I waited for him to finish his conversation with the couple. I could feel Ruby Grace staring holes into the side of my face, but I just kept my smile, waiting patiently.

  Anthony glanced at me quickly before turning his attention back to the couple, acknowledging my presence with a hint of annoyance. When the conversation was wrapped up between him and the couple, he shook their hands — and then they shook Ruby Grace’s, of course — before finally turning to me.

  “I’m so sorry to interrupt, Mr. Caldwell,” I said, the most southern and welcoming smile on my face as I stretched a hand toward him. “I’m Noah Becker, one of the barrel raisers here at Scooter Whiskey. I helped your fiancé pick out her barrel, and I’m at your service tonight.”

  Understanding shaded the annoyance, and Anthony returned my smile in the most genuine way I imagined he could before taking my hand and shaking it firmly. “Ah, yes. Of course. How do you do, Noah?”

  “Oh, I’m fantastic. It’s our Academy Awards, after all, and I’m akin to the host of the show.” I grinned wider, squeezing his hand a little too hard before I dropped it and offered my calloused palm to the girl he still held possessively by the waist. “Ruby Grace, always a pleasure to see you. And might I say you look beautiful this evening.”