Chapter Six

Charlotte

Two hours later, Luke and I stood in the parking lot of the bar. I leaned against the side of his big black truck as I watched him, my lips turned up in a smile.

“Turns out you’re not so bad,” he said, his mouth twitching as he watched me.

“That so?” I placed a hand on my hip.

Leaning closer, he tucked a stray lock of hair behind my ear and shrugged. “When you’re not running your mouth, you can be downright tolerable.”

When his full lips blossomed into a wide smile, something inside me zinged. Laughing, I shook my head.

We’d spent the evening talking, eating pizza, and sipping on whiskey. I felt relaxed and loose. All my worries had taken a back seat to this gorgeous man with his cocky personality and mega-white smile.

Luke couldn’t seem to stop touching me—his hand at my lower back as he led me from the bar, the way he rose to his feet and helped me from my bar stool when I needed to use the restroom, and now, his fingertips grazing my bare arms and then touching my hair. His attention was dizzying, because I wasn’t used to forward men.

Well, that wasn’t true. I was used to men who were forward with their self-accolades. Bragging about how much money they’d made in the stock market, about their Fifth Avenue address or their job title. Those were things I was used to.

Luke was the complete opposite. I wasn’t used to a man who had nothing to offer but himself and yet gave it so freely—letting his interest be known, to hell with the consequences. Because the two of us? We made absolutely no sense. I would be leaving soon, and I had a feeling he would live out his life here and die in the same place he’d been born.

We couldn’t be more different, but our bodies didn’t care. The chemistry zipping between us fueled an attraction that grew with every barb we lobbed at each other. He was fun and challenging in a way that was entirely new.

“When you feed me whiskey all night, what did you expect? I tend to lose my filter,” I said, lifting my chin.

“I did feed you more than whiskey. I wasn’t a complete asshole tonight.”

I nodded, remembering the pizza we’d shared. “For once.”

His mouth twitched again. “I kinda like you when you’re full of whiskey, duchess.”

That damn nickname again.

He winked at me, and I almost melted into a puddle right there in the dusty gravel parking lot. For the longest time, we stayed like that—our eyes locked together, our hips lined up, his hand at my waist . . .

Are you gonna kiss me, or what?

I didn’t have to wonder any longer. Luke’s gaze darkened and he lowered his head toward mine. I lifted onto my toes, needing to close the distance between us fast. He took my mouth with a soft kiss and I immediately responded, parting my lips. His tongue moved against mine in deep, drugging kisses that made my toes curl in my sneakers.

Damn, the man could kiss.

Turned out his truck wasn’t his only big possession. To my whiskey-soaked brain, it felt like a massive steel rod was tucked inside his jeans. Jesus, he was hung.

Come to Mama.

An older man headed to his car whistled at us. “Looks like somebody’s gettin’ lucky tonight.”

Luke cursed under his breath and grabbed my hand. “People in this town are fuckin’ nosy. Come on.”

Inside the cab of his truck, the scent of oil, leather, and whiskey created a warm, cozy atmosphere.

“Where are we going?” I asked.

“I’m driving you back to the inn.”

Disappointment flashed through me. Damn. So, we weren’t going back to his place for wild sex.

“How do you know that’s where I’m staying?”

His answer was a smirk on those gorgeous full lips. “God, you’re cute when you’re sassy. It’s the only hotel in town.”

When we pulled to a stop in the parking lot of the little Victorian house that had been converted to a bed and breakfast, Luke shifted the truck into park and cut the engine.

“You want to come inside?” My voice trembled only slightly, but my heart was jack-hammering against my ribs.

“Better not.” His voice was rough, and I sensed his restraint was hanging by a thread, just like mine. “People in this town talk.” He reached over and placed his hand on my knee, giving it a squeeze. “Plus, I’m not gonna lie. I’m attracted to you, duchess, and I might not behave like a gentleman if I come inside.”

“Maybe I’m done with guys who pretend to be perfect gentlemen.”

He released a growl of frustration and leaned in closer, placing a soft kiss on my jaw. He could be such a stubborn, rough-around-the edges prick, and then other times, he could be so sweet and tender.

“I almost hate to admit this,” I said, “but I had fun with you tonight.”

“Me too,” he murmured with his lips inches from mine.

Wetting my lips with my tongue, I fought off a smile at the way his hungry gaze tracked the movement. He started slow, his lips hovering at my jaw before he peppered soft kisses against my neck.

“Luke,” I groaned. I wanted this, and I had no idea what had come over me. Maybe it was part of being on the run, but I wanted to sin. Wanted him to make me forget everything—my past, my mistakes . . . hell, even my own damn name.

Capturing my mouth in a hungry kiss, he lashed his tongue at mine and I took everything he offered. The feel of his rough, calloused fingertips grazing my skin, the taste of whiskey on his breath, his masculine scent—it was intoxicating.

Climbing over the center console, I planted myself in his lap and pushed my hands into his hair as I kissed him back. His kisses were rough and intense, and I couldn’t help but wonder about the way this man fucked. Would he take me hard and fast, or draw things out until I was a whimpering mess?

Moving in his lap until I found the right angle, I pushed my hips closer, grinding against the steely erection behind his zipper that pressed at my core.

His deep groan of frustrated need made my inner muscles clench.

As I worked myself against him, we continued kissing, his hands locked on my hips as I rolled them against his. All my cards were on the table. I wanted him and he knew it. And lucky for me, it seemed he wanted me just as badly.

Luke gripped my ass, working me against his cock. I was close, so close. Just a little more pressure . . .

“Time out.” He groaned.

Time out? Did he just call a timeout? Putting a few inches of space between us, I blinked to clear my hazy vision and gazed up at him.

“I’m not fucking you in my truck. And if we go any further, that’s what’s going to happen.”

My heart pounding, my panties soaked, I crawled from his lap. Partly annoyed at him and partly annoyed at myself for getting carried away, I grabbed my purse and opened the door.

Outside the truck, the fresh air did wonders to clear my head. I was never like this.

Luke’s sly smile was back as he hopped out of the truck, and he was back to rubbing my arms. “What are you doing tomorrow?”

Wasn’t that a good question? “I don’t know. I’ll have to check my schedule,” I snapped, still mad at him for calling a damn timeout.

He chuckled again, low under his breath, and the sound vibrated against my skin. I had no idea how it was possible for this man to get under my skin so deeply, so quickly, but he had.

“I was thinking if you’re free, I’d show you around the distillery. But you know, only if you’re free.”

The wiseass. He knew I had nothing to do but sit around and wait for my car to get fixed.

“I’m free,” I huffed.

“I’ll pick you up at eight.”

My eyebrows shot up. “In the morning?”

“Okay, make it ten,” he said with a chuckle. “And be ready to put that marketing genius to work.”

“You got it.”

• • •

At five to ten when Luke showed up the next morning, I was up, showered, and dressed. My hair was still damp, but when I saw him standing there at the foot of the stairs, holding two paper cups of hot coffee, the last thing I wanted was to spend twenty minutes blow-drying my hair and putting on makeup when Luke probably didn’t care about things like that anyway.

Besides, that was the old Charlotte, always put together and polished. And look where it had gotten me. Nowhere.

“Ready?” he asked, looking up at me from the parlor where Opal had left him.

I winked. “Give me thirty seconds.”

In the adjoining bathroom, I pulled my still-damp hair into a high messy ponytail and dabbed on some lip balm. There. I was ready.

My cell phone chimed, and I glanced down at it with a scowl. My parents. Again. Hitting a button to silence it, I stuffed it in the back pocket of my jeans. I wasn’t ready to face them or all the shit I left behind when I hightailed it out of New York.

“That was fast,” Luke said as he handed me a cup of coffee.

The surprise in his tone told me that was unexpected. I decided that I liked this new Charlotte, liked doing the opposite of what people expected.

“Cream and sugar in yours. Hope that’s all right.”

“It’s perfect.” I took a sip of the warm brew.

“How are you feeling this morning?” Luke asked as we climbed into his truck.

I wasn’t sure if he was referring to the whiskey we’d downed last night, or the way he’d left me riled up and aroused.

“I slept like a baby.” At least, that much was true. I was still slightly annoyed at him for the way he’d called things off last night, but I’d never admit that to him.

A few minutes later, we turned off the main road and onto his property, rolling hills and grassy pastures dotted with massive pecan trees.

“This is me.” He pointed to a pale brick two-story house at the top of the hill. A former farmhouse, it had a wide front porch and plantation-style shutters painted a glossy black framing the windows.

“All of that just for you?”

He shook his head. “Duke and Molly and I all live there. Dad left it to us.”

My throat suddenly felt dry, and I took another sip of coffee. I recalled what Opal had said about Luke’s past.

After parking his truck beside the quintessential red barn at the far end of his property, we climbed into something Luke called a side-by-side, which to me looked like a revved-up golf cart.

We cruised around the acreage while Luke pointed things out to me—the tree house he and his brother built when they were twelve, the pond where he got caught skinny-dipping with the pastor’s daughter. It was crazy how comfortable Luke and I were together. I’d known him a mere forty-eight hours, and yet we felt like old friends.

The fresh country air and sunshine did wonders for my mood. I was happy that I’d opted not to style my hair. Hell, I was just plain happy.

“Careful now, duchess. If you smile any harder, I might go and think you’re actually enjoying yourself.”

The playful edge to his voice was addictive. After only a short couple of days, I could already feel myself falling for his charms.

A little while later, we finally stopped in front of the distillery and climbed out, stretching our legs.

“You wanna see where the magic happens?” Luke asked.

I rolled my eyes, following him toward the building that was rustic, but cute. “Why do I feel like that’s a cheesy pickup line you’ve used a thousand times to seduce a thousand girls?”

He halted in his tracks and turned to face me. “There are two things you need to know. First, this isn’t some ploy to get you into bed. I was serious about wanting your help.”

I nodded. “And the second?”

“There haven’t been a thousand women.” And then he smiled. “Maybe only nine hundred or so.”

The tinge of something darker in his gaze told me he had a story in his past that he used humor to hide, maybe something just as deep and painful as my own. But I didn’t want to think about all that just now, so I grinned back at him and followed him inside.

It took a moment for my eyes to adjust to the dim lighting. It was warm and reminded me of a bread factory—humid and with a yeasty smell hanging in the air. Big wooden vats and huge copper canisters bubbled with the fermented sugars from rye and corn.

Luke pointed things out to me as we made our way through. I didn’t know anything about whiskey or bourbon, but it was cool to hear him talk about something he was passionate about. And he was clearly passionate about whiskey, or maybe he was just emotional about his family business. When he spoke about the aging and bottling process, he became animated, using his hands to talk, and watched me with a smile to make sure I was keeping up.

“This place is great, Luke. I can see why you’re so proud of it.”

“Glad you approve, duchess.”

After passing through an aging room filled with oak barrels, Luke led me to what he called his tasting room. Chocolate-brown velvet armchairs and a rustic wooden table sat in the center of the room. A bottle of whiskey with a tray of rocks glasses was waiting for us. The room was tastefully decorated in rich, masculine colors. A black-and-white photograph of a Texas longhorn hung on one wall, and the other wall was filled with windows overlooking the pastures.

“Care for a taste?” Luke motioned for me to sit as he picked up the bottle.

I’d only just finished my coffee, and now we were going to drink whiskey? “Maybe just a sip. It’s early.”

He nodded and poured a splash into each of our glasses.

I sniffed at the liquor, watching him over the rim of my glass. I’d had Wilder whiskey last night, but that was after several cocktails. “What should I be looking for? Any tips?”

He lifted his glass, inspecting it. “Deep golden color. Intense aroma. Hints of smoky caramel with a sweet maple finish.” He downed the contents in one swallow, his full lips hovering seductively on the rim of the glass. “The charred oak barrels are used only once. Each one is a tiny bit unique, and they flavor the final product.”

I took a swallow, then licked my lips. “Smooth.”

He nodded. “It’s good for sipping.”

Setting my glass down, I turned to face Luke, my interest in this place piqued. “Do you offer tastings here?”

He shook his head. “We’re not open to the public.”

“You should really consider it, play up the local angle. You need to advertise that each bottle was handmade right here. People eat that stuff up.”

He opened his mouth like he wanted to argue some point with me, then thought better of it.

“Thought I heard voices.” Duke strolled into the tasting room and joined us. “Breaking your own rules, I see,” he said to Luke.

“Little brother.” Luke tipped his head toward Duke. “You need something?”

Duke shook his head and then reached for my hand, lifting it to his mouth for a quick kiss. “Shame to see you get mixed up with the riffraff.”

“I’ll be careful. I promise.”

Duke tugged his ball cap lower over his eyes and shot me a soul-filled look as he turned away. “I’ve got work to do. You two be good,” he called over his shoulder.

Once he was gone, I took another sip of my whiskey, watching Luke over the rim of my glass. “What did he mean about breaking your rules?”

He was quiet for a moment, and I thought he wasn’t going to tell me. It would have served me right because of the monumental secret I was keeping from him. A secret that was starting to knaw at me.

“We made a pact a long time ago. The tasting room is ‘no girls allowed.’”

“Oh.” I shifted in my seat, wondering why that rule was instituted and what it meant that I was sitting here.

“It was started to keep Molly out, but then it just became more. Like this was our place—a spot for Duke and me to talk business, and to get away from everything else.”

I nodded. I understood that. Growing up the way I did, I cherished my down time. It wasn’t uncommon for me to sneak out of an important family function at my father’s country club to go hang out in the kitchen or the coat room with the staff. They were always way more fun. It was often the only chance I got to let my hair down and relax.

“I don’t mean to pry, but you said something earlier about your dad leaving you this place.” Reading between the lines, I was assuming he meant his dad had passed.

“There’s not much to tell. After my mom took off, he had nothing left to live for and drank himself to an early death.”

I blinked, surprised by Luke’s brutal honesty. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” He shrugged. “It was a long time ago.”

“So, your mom is . . .”

“She left when I was seven, but to be honest, she was gone a long time before that, emotionally. It was no secret that she hated it here. When she couldn’t take it anymore, she took off for city life. Got remarried and had a whole other family, last I heard.”

I swallowed. That would have been tough for a little kid to handle. No wonder Luke was so hardened. His steely exterior was in place for a reason—most likely a defense mechanism so he couldn’t get too close to someone who might abandon him ever again.

“Well, for what it’s worth, thanks for bringing me here today.”

“I’m glad you got to see it. Do you think you can help?”

“I know I can.”

My mind was already buzzing with ideas. Opening to the public to offer tastings and food pairings and seasonal gifts was only the beginning. I could envision events like weddings and banquets under the gazebo by the pond. The excitement of building a brand like this from scratch was intoxicating.

Luke rose to his feet. “I’ve got some e-mails to catch up on and a conference call with a distributor, but maybe we can talk about your ideas later?”

“Absolutely. I just need a quiet place to work, and a pen and a pad. I’m going to draft up an entire marketing strategy for you.”

Luke’s eyes widened slightly. “If it’s too much trouble or too much to ask, I understand—”

I raised a hand, cutting him off. “Honestly, what else am I going to do? Sit around and stare at the phone, waiting for Wayne to call?”

“Fair enough. Come on. I’ll set you up at my favorite spot to brainstorm.”

I followed him back to the side-by-side. When we reached his house, Luke led me up the front steps of his wide front porch and stretched out his arms.

“This suit you okay?”

There were wooden armchairs with fluffy cream-colored cushions, and a potted fern on the outdoor coffee table.

“This is perfect.”

“Let me get you that pen and paper.”

Luke headed inside while I lowered myself into a chair to wait for him. When he returned, he handed me a pad of paper, a couple of pens, a glass of iced tea, and a blueberry muffin.

“Molly made those this morning.”

“Thanks. I should be all set.”

“I’ll check on you in a couple of hours. If you need something or want me to take you back to the inn, just text me.”

“I’ll be fine.”

Sitting inside the little hotel room at the inn held no appeal. I didn’t want to admit it to Luke, but I loved the thought of working here instead of a stuffy office. I could see myself doing some good work here. Making a real difference in their business.

The sweet, fresh air fragranced with lilacs and the warm breeze on my skin were a welcome treat. We didn’t have quiet, relaxing places like this back home. Although I’d missed all the conveniences of the city over the past few days, in this moment, there was no place I’d rather be.

The realization was like a freight train roaring through my chest. At first, all I’d wanted was to flee this small town, and now I suddenly found myself hoping for a few more days here.

• • •

A few hours later, I shifted in my seat. My stomach reminded me that I’d worked through lunch, and my bladder piped up to remind me of the iced tea I’d downed hours ago.

Rising to my feet, I stretched and contemplated what to do. Text Luke? Ask him to take me home? Sneaking inside to find a bathroom won out.

“Luke?” I opened the front door and let myself inside.

An oak staircase off the foyer was about all I could see. I continued past it toward what I assumed was the kitchen and called his name again.

“Hey. In here.”

I turned and saw Luke standing in the doorway of his office, a room off the dining room that held a large oak desk and several tall bookcases.

“I’m sorry to barge in, but can I use your bathroom?”

“Of course. Down the hall on the right.”

I hurried past him, and once I’d done my business, I found him on the porch, flipping through the notebook I’d left on the coffee table.

“Hey, give me that. No peeking.”

I grabbed it from him, a little self-conscious about my messy chicken scratch and random notes. He handed over the notepad without a fight, but stepped closer until we were standing just inches apart.

Luke had been so open today, sharing a piece of his past with me and letting me into his life. It was unexpected. And working up a marketing plan all day meant I didn’t have time to dwell on my own issues—for which I was incredibly grateful.

As he gazed down at me, his eyes went soft. I wet my lower lip, sure he was about to kiss me, but the sound of a car driving up made me step back.

“Hey!” Molly climbed out of her car and reached for a grocery bag. “Fancy seeing you here!”