Chapter Two – You, Me, And Whiskey
Chapter Two
Rafe
YOU, ME, AND WHISKEY
Performed by Justin Moore and Priscilla Block
It was nearing eleven o’clock at night by the time I made my way to the piano bar tucked in the back corner of the hotel. It was always my final stop of the night after making the rounds. My routine started with The Marquis Club, with its loud music and packed dance floor, before moving on to the casino, with its jangling slots, spinning roulette wheels, shouts of customers, and clinking of glasses. I hit the registration desk and restaurants in varying order, based on the needs of the staff, but I always ended my workday in the quiet of the piano bar. I’d grab a single shot of bourbon, sip it while I reviewed the daily numbers, and then head to the penthouse suite I called home before starting it all over again the next day.
Of all the businesses I’d built from the ground up in the last twelve years, this one hit all the marks I’d wanted. I was prouder of it—prouder of calling it mine—than anything I’d accomplished yet. Watching The Fortress glow in the rising and setting sun almost gave me the same feeling of peace and satisfaction I’d once had staring at a rushing waterfall and acres of rolling hills.
For a fleeting few months, it had filled the hole that had taken over my life for nearly a decade and a half. But now, as the days grew long and routine grew cold, I felt the black hole creeping back over me, along with an antsy need to shovel it full of something new.
Maybe it wasn’t the tedium wearing on me as much as it was my brother’s death five months ago. Maybe being forced to step onto the hills of my childhood for his funeral had triggered this new wave of restlessness. Whichever was true, every time I watched the sun hit the spires of The Fortress now, it was the sun reflecting off the rivers on our family’s land that haunted me.
My jaw clenched, and my shoulders tightened as I reminded myself the ranch would be gone for good by the end of the year. It would no longer have the power to attack my heart and tear through my soul. I’d have this instead—a hotel-casino brimming with life versus a ranch overflowing with nature’s solitude.
A twinge of guilt hit me at the thought of selling the land. It wasn’t at the idea of giving up a century-old legacy but because Fallon would hate me even more than she already did when it happened. My daughter would get over it though. Marquesses were resilient. We sucked it up and did what we had to do to survive. I’d learned that at the hand of my mother, who’d fought the devil called cancer twice before she’d succumbed to it when I was eight. Survival took many forms.
My daughter would learn it just as I had.
And Lauren? Did I care what happened to my brother’s wife now that Spencer was gone?
I ignored the ache that tried to jump from behind the walls I’d built, quickening my stride along the mirrored hallway toward the back of the hotel, focusing on every minute detail to keep me present. The arrangements on gold-gilded side tables were wilting and needed to be replaced. It was the fourth time it had happened this month. Maybe the florist needed to be tossed out along with the dying blooms. Or maybe my operations manager should be exchanged for a new one if he couldn’t keep tabs on something as basic as dead flowers.
As I neared the bar, instead of the soothing lull of piano keys I’d expected, a raucous and loud beat filled the air, causing my back to stiffen in disapproval.
Stepping inside, it wasn’t the carefully crafted old-world charm of the bar I saw. My vision funneled, the leather furniture, brass fixtures, and bar built into mahogany bookshelves all but disappearing as I focused on a singular moving object—a woman. She was twisting and twirling through a little two-step dance, accompanied on either side by two burly men.
Annoyance and attraction leaped through my veins in equal measure.
Someone had shoved aside the custom-made piano and replaced the soft sounds of its keys with country music that blared from hidden speakers. The trio on the stage stomped their cowboy boots on my smooth marble floors to a snappy rhythm full of banjo and twang.
The black-haired vixen at their center shot a lopsided smile at the man to her right, and I was overcome with the urge to toss him from the bar simply for having had the audacity to be on the receiving end of it. The little shimmy she did was almost the same one she’d performed after winning the dart tournament earlier. The movement sent the fringed layer of her sequined dress in a million different directions while the lavender silk underlayer hugged her frame. Full hips that begged to have fingers dig into them moved gracefully, while delightfully curved breasts bounced to the beat.
She was a vision. A tasty, tantalizing dream. But it wasn’t her curves that had my breath evaporating. No, it was a pair of blue eyes the same color as the California bluebells that raced over the hills of the ranch in the spring. Those eyes had mesmerized me this afternoon as I’d watched Sadie Hatley toss darts with an ease that whispered of otherworldly powers.
My stomach and groin tightened uncomfortably, just as they had when I’d had her hand in mine. Walking away from her this afternoon had almost cost me a layer of skin and bone.
But she was only twenty-three. Practically an innocent babe.
You weren’t at that age , the devil inside me taunted. And I hadn’t been. I’d been a year away from opening my first club when I was twenty-three.
But I also wasn’t the norm.
Maybe she isn’t either .
Who knew? Not me. What I did know was Sadie was a distraction I couldn’t afford and certainly didn’t want.
If I wanted sex, I knew where to get it. All it took was a drink, a hotel room, and breakfast on the house that didn’t include me remaining behind to share it. The woman in front of me may scream lust and desire, but it wasn’t the kind I could slip in and out of. No, every shake of her body, every smile and laugh, screamed something more. She’d get her hooks into whoever took her to bed. They’d be unable to forget those mesmerizing eyes and the dare that seemed to reside permanently in them.
Sadie’s hand landed on the arm of the man to her left, and I recognized him and his friend as the naked-chested fans who’d been shouting her nickname at the tournament. Something bitter filled my mouth at the idea of her dancing with them here. In my hotel. In my bar.
I told myself it was simply because it was in a space that was not intended for dancing, and my devil scoffed.
I finally freed my feet from where they’d taken root and stalked through the tables. I reached the threesome just as the song ended and laughter filled the air.
“What the hell is this?” I demanded in the silence that settled down.
From off to the side, I heard Mattie, the bar’s manager, holler something I didn’t quite register. Her voice simply faded away once Sadie turned eyes on me littered with pure mischief. Impish promises flew between us—ones I absolutely wouldn’t be taking her up on.
“Line dance lessons,” Sadie responded, and the lightness in her voice matched the curve of her lips. Upward. Joy-filled.
God, she was beautiful. And so damn alive at the moment that it burst through her like rays from the sun. What would it feel like to be that full of life for even a few seconds?
I was full of purpose and resolve, but she radiated with a vibrancy that was all about eking out enjoyment from every second.
“This is a piano bar,” I barked, feeling immediately like an idiot for stating the obvious. “This is not the time or place for any kind of dance lessons.”
Her lips quirked higher. “Don’t get your panties in a wad, Slick. We’ll put everything back to rights.”
My annoyance grew at the half-assed insult.
Mattie joined us. “They were just settling a quick bet, Rafe.”
My gaze narrowed on the dark-haired enchantress in front of me, and I growled, “Take the betting to the casino. It’s just out the doors.”
Sadie laughed. “You want me to teach line dancing in the middle of the black jack tables?”
Her eyes actually twinkled. Who knew eyes could really do that? Her face was deliciously flushed, and the soft sweep of pink covering her high cheeks emphasized the sharp jut of her chin almost as much as the nearly black hair swirling around it did. I wanted to yank back those silky strands and expose the long column of her neck. I wanted to see if those vibrant blues would turn dark and mystical with the touch of my mouth and hands.
My annoyance at those provocative thoughts was displayed in every syllable as I said, “I don’t want you teaching line dancing anywhere in the hotel or casino.”
Her smile widened instead of lowering at my snarl. “I paid for twenty minutes, party pooper. In exchange for interrupting their quiet, I bought everyone here a round and promised to be done by the time they’d finished.”
“Spending your prize money on alcohol isn’t any better than spending it at the tables,” I barked.
She laughed again, and the sound lodged itself deep inside me. I wanted to hear it again. I wanted to rip it away and make it permanently mine. The overwhelming strength of those notions and the unwanted feelings that came with them were what helped ease me back from the edge I felt myself slipping over. I despised all the strong emotions she’d yanked out of me today. I’d learned the hard way to keep them wrapped tight.
Sadie turned to the two men on either side of her. “Sorry, Leo and Deke. I guess our lessons are over. But I promise, if you go to any country bar and slide up on the dance floor with these moves, you’ll have more dates than you can shake a stick at.”
Both men leaned in at the same time, kissing her on opposite cheeks. She blushed, and I had to fist my hands to keep myself from ripping them away from her. From a woman I didn’t know. Didn’t want to know. A woman I needed to get out of my bar, my hotel, and my life before something terrible happened. Before I lost control completely. Lost everything all over again. And these days, I had way more to lose than I once had. I had billions spread across the globe rather than a few acres of hills and valleys.
The men thanked her, gave me another glance, and then scurried out of the bar.
Sadie shook her head and turned to Mattie. “Let me help you put things back.”
My bar manager fought off a smirk as she said, “Dan and I got it. Go get that drink you paid for and never received.”
Sadie seemed to hesitate for a brief second before she ran a hand down the beaded fringe of her sexy-as-sin dress and stepped away from the makeshift dance floor toward the bar.
I watched every step, noticing with surprise that Mattie’s assistant bartender pushed a finger of amber liquid rather than a fruit-filled mixed drink her way. I liked the idea of her drinking my bourbon. Liked what those perky lips would taste like if I slid my tongue over them afterward.
I hated how much I wanted to do just that. How much I wanted her.
She slid onto the stool, and that delightfully flirty dress rode up just enough to give me a glimpse of a toned thigh. I turned away, gritted my teeth, and helped Mattie and Dan the Piano Man wheel the baby grand back into place.
Mattie whispered, “She paid for a round for the entire bar. It was a harmless diversion. A handful of songs at most.”
“And a first-time customer who wandered in hoping for a quiet place to relax and heard that racket would have walked right back out and not returned.”
Mattie didn’t reply, but she did shoot me a remorseful glance before heading for the bar.
Knowing I’d made too much of the incident only irritated me more as I sank into the corner booth in the darkest part of the room with the permanent “reserved” sign resting on the table. It was my booth. My bar. My casino. My rules. I pulled my phone from my pocket, opened my management app, and attempted to scroll through the daily numbers. But I wasn’t really seeing them.
My attention kept wandering to the bar, watching as Mattie said something to Sadie that made the vixen throw her head back and laugh. It was quiet enough I couldn’t hear the sound of it across the room with the piano at work. My chest ached to hear the tinkling chimes, my body grew tight at the unfulfilled expectation, and my mind pushed it all away.
Sadie rose from the stool, turning so I could see she had two rocks glasses in her hands. My shoulders tensed even more, knowing before she’d even taken a step in my direction that she was coming to me, bringing me the one glass I allowed myself to savor each night.
She set the drinks on my table and slid into the booth without an invitation.
“Drink’s on me,” she said with a lopsided smile that caused my heart to backfire.
I scoffed. “It’s all on me.”
Her lips instantly flattened, the happy look replaced with an assessing one that I worried, for two beats, might actually see beyond my exterior walls. I instinctively reinforced them, tucking away every emotion. I’d be damned if she’d read any of it. Not the lust. Not the poetry that sprung to mind whenever those eyes met mine. Not even the irritation I felt for her ruining my peace.
“Mattie told me you own the place. Pretty young to have your own casino,” she said. I wasn’t sure if it was a taunt because of what I’d said earlier about her age, an attempt to wheedle her way into my life, or just conversation.
I didn’t respond. I just met her stare with my own as I fought the desire to drag her around the booth and kiss her until those crystal-clear eyes turned cloudy, and the taste of bourbon on her lips was replaced with the taste of me.
She looked away first, fiddling with a strand of fringe on her dress before glancing back up. “I own a bar. My family owns a…hotel of sorts. It’s a lot of work. You never really get a break. You’re always on.”
Every time I thought I had her sorted and pegged, she surprised me. “You own a bar?”
She huffed out another laugh, impish lips twisting upward again. “I inherited it from my uncle. It’s been in the family for over a hundred years.”
“What are you doing on the dart circuit then?” The question slipped out before I could stop it. I silently cursed myself. I needed her to go, not invite her to stay and spill her guts.
“I needed the money,” she said with a careless shrug that had the dress’s tiny strap slipping to the edge of her shoulder, tempting me to tug it down or rip it completely off. “What are you doing sponsoring a dart competition?”
I pulled my eyes up to her face. “My operations manager insisted the television coverage would be good advertisement. But I won’t host it again.”
It hadn’t brought the type of crowd I wanted to The Fortress. It brought bare-chested mountain men who drank beer from ridiculous hats. It brought impish vixens who screamed temptation.
“Doesn’t look like you need advertisement,” she said, glancing around at the completely occupied booths.
Even without the dart competition, the hotel would have been fully occupied, just like every available seat at the casino tables was taken, and my restaurants had a waitlist. But I knew, more than anyone, how fast that could change. I had successful bars that had turned into duds and clubs that only pulled in profit when a steady stream of ad revenue was sent their way. Keeping everything in the black was a balancing act that took both hard reins and soft hands. It was a heady dance, different than the one I’d spent my formative years performing with the unbroken horses on the ranch, but still a dance.
Once again, she filled my nonresponse with another question. “Do you ever take a moment off? To breathe? To just relax?”
Ever since she’d walked into the club the day before with her dart case in hand, she’d worn a smile. Most of the time, it had been as light and alive as the one she’d had while dancing with the two fans moments ago, but once in a while, I’d seen the smile slip. Seen a glimpse of something deeper, darker that lingered for a moment before the smile returned. It made her all the more attractive.
Sadie ran a hand through thick strands, tucking them behind an ear, and then looked up at me with an expression brimming with hunger—that same longing that had been zinging through me since the moment she’d shown up in my club with a dart case in hand.
“I don’t get to relax very often,” she said. “My siblings told me to celebrate. Hence the dress.” She waved down at the sparkling concoction dancing with a light that couldn’t compete with her internal one. “And the drink.” She picked up the glass, tossed back the remaining contents, and put it down before meeting my gaze head on again. “And you.”
The desire smoldering in me burst into an inferno at those two simple words.
I’d had plenty of women come on to me over the years, but I’d never had this visceral of a reaction to one.
I wanted her. She wanted me. We were two consenting adults, years past the legal age, regardless of the gap between her twenty-three years and my thirty-five. Would tasting her douse the fire she’d flamed, or would it leave a burn I’d feel for days? Months? Years?
“They should call you the Tennessee Hurricane rather than Tennessee Darlin’,” I grunted out, trying to reel myself back in. Reel us both in.
“Afraid of a little wild west blowing over you, Slick?” My body erupted all over again at the dare she accompanied by another mischievous smile.
In another lifetime, before I’d weighed and measured every single decision, every penny, every plan, every purchase, I’d been extremely good at accepting dares. I dare you to jump off the cliff into the creek. I dare you to ride bareback on the unbroken stallion. I dare you to kiss me. That last dare had changed my life. Cracked it apart. Shattered it until only one good thing emerged from the ashes.
This dare, issued from a sparkling, vibrant woman who lived thousands of miles away and would be gone on the next plane ride out of Vegas, was nothing compared to that one. And maybe it was all those reasons, the man I’d once been as much as who I was now, that had me accepting that dare, even knowing I wasn’t seeing all the odds.
At the moment, all that mattered was the ache I had for her. The ache to hold on to someone who allowed life to pour over them. I wanted it to drown me for a few hours before I returned to the empty void my mistakes had carved into me.
I shoved my phone into my suit jacket and stood. I registered her disappointment, thinking I was leaving, just as I felt her body jolt when my palm slid along her nape. I lowered my mouth so it caressed the shell of her ear and said, “You should be more careful what you gamble with, Tennessee.”
A shiver ran through her, but she twisted her face to mine, bringing our lips so close I could almost taste the liquor on them before she whispered, “I think I can beat the odds.”
The fires that had been licking through me burned viciously. I let out a savage growl, low and dark, as I took her elbow and practically yanked her from the booth. She had the audacity to laugh. Light and elvish. Charming and sweet. But I ate sweet for breakfast and spit it out before lunch, and she’d find that out soon enough.