Chapter 20
CHAPTER TWENTY
Jonah
Summer was so goddamn fine, I’d had a hard time navigating the streets of Bozeman.
Those pants of her hugged her body like a second skin.
Curves for miles, and I wanted those legs wrapped around my waist. I’d seen her hair in a fancy style the day of her wedding.
After, she’d kept it loose or up in some sort of sloppy bun that was cute as hell.
Tonight, her bright strands were sleek and hanging in large curls over one shoulder.
The strawberry hue was more apparent than normal and I dug it all. She was hot.
If I hadn’t wanted to prove to myself that my semi-exile hadn’t turned me into a mannerless beast, I’d have pushed her backward into the condo and taken her against the door. But I could be a damn gentleman for one night.
For a few hours.
Thank fuck the place I had scoped out ahead of time was a steakhouse. Judging from her squeal of delight when I turned into the lot, I’d picked the right place.
We were heading toward the door, and she clutched my arm. I’d left my cane in the car. The parking area was mostly clear with minimal ice. I had her anchoring me, and I’d rather hold on to her above all else.
When we got to the door, a girl swung the door open, grin plastered in place. Her gaze dipped to my legs, no doubt taking in my limp, then rose to my face, right to the scar. Her attention skittered to Summer and she smiled brighter. “Welcome!”
She glanced shyly at me but couldn’t meet my gaze.
My mood darkened. I was in a different town to escape this behavior. Had Summer noticed I scared this young girl?
“Two tonight?” the hostess said in her most chipper tone. Her gaze was locked on Summer, and it was like I no longer existed.
“Yes, please.”
We were led to a two-top close to the bar. Bigger tables with families and kids took up the main area.
I helped hang Summer’s coat on the back of her chair and pulled her seat out. Her sweet scent washed over me, reminding me of twisted sheets and low moans. My mood wasn’t so sour that I didn’t notice. She sat, giving me a demure smile that went straight to my cock.
The hostess continued to talk as I limped around her and took my coat off.
“Our specials are the twelve-ounce ribeye with your choice of salad and potato and a surf-and-turf plate that is our most popular item on the menu. Can I help you with anything else before your server arrives?” She spared me a quick glance and sent her focus right back to Summer.
“No, thank you,” Summer replied.
I glowered at my menu. This night had barely started. Summer was fielding all the questions. Was I that hideous? I thought I’d cleaned up well. I hadn’t felt as good as I did tonight in years. Yet . . . the young girl could hardly look at me.
Summer had a big heart and her reaction to me was genuine, but I’d let her down. I couldn’t explain how.
The burn of her stare finally caught my attention. I lifted my gaze and she arched a brow. Her eyes twinkled under the lights of the restaurant. She was getting more gorgeous as the night progressed.
“Why’d you get all moody?” she asked.
“I’m not all moody.” I hadn’t read a word on the menu, but I’d kept my feelings to myself. Yet I was still turning into a shitty date.
“Spill it, Dunn.”
I set my menu down. “That young girl was scared of me.”
Summer peered toward the hostess station. “Why do you think that?”
“She could barely look at me after she saw the scar.”
A laugh sputtered from between her lips. “Seriously?”
“Why wouldn’t I be? Didn’t you notice?”
Summer tapped her finger on the table as she thought.
“A few things. One, she’s probably in college, so she’s not young young.
Two, she’s probably paying more attention to me since women are more comfortable talking to the woman over the guy.
Servers do it to get tipped better. Can’t have me thinking she’s into you.
” She ticked her finger up for the last point.
“You think revulsion is why she can’t look at you? ”
“Fear.”
She snickered again. “That’s not why.” She dug her phone out of her coat pocket, tapped the screen, and turned it toward me.
She’d put on the camera. I was looking at myself.
“That guy look scary? Or so insanely hot you’re worried your panties will combust?”
The tips of my ears flamed hot. “Summer.”
She kept the camera aimed at me. “I know which one I’m leaning toward.” She wiggled in her seat.
Lust kindled stronger in my gut. The only woman I cared about being into me was sitting across from me. Didn’t mean Summer was right. “I don’t think—”
“You don’t need to. I understand her better than you.” She finally tucked the damn phone away. “I’m telling you, you’re hot. That scar is alluring, yes, but it doesn’t take the spotlight. The rest of you does.”
My face was going to be beet red. “Point taken.”
She smiled, triumphant. “Good.”
“It’s not like that in Bourbon Canyon.”
She thought for a moment, her pink lips pursed. “They know you though. They’ve heard stories that probably make you sound feral. People are probably afraid of how you’ll react.” She leaned forward. “But I bet a lot of them still think you’re handsome.”
I might’ve cared about other women’s opinions before Summer’s wedding. I didn’t now.
She tapped a finger on the table. “I, um, should tell you that I talked to Teller and he figured there was more going on between us at the cabin than clearing snow.”
Shit. Teller knew I was fucking his sister? I’d have been mortified before. I hadn’t been good boyfriend material then and Teller used to tease me. He would’ve kicked my ass when it came to one of his sisters. “What’d he say?”
“Not much. He was surprised, but he wasn’t. I’m sure he had time to get used to the idea when he heard that I was stranded at your place a second time.”
“You weren’t very subtle.”
“And you don’t have scurvy.”
I laughed but then anxiety flared. “How much of your family knows?”
“Mama figured it out. And Autumn. Well, I told her, but I had to talk to someone when I thought you hated me. I don’t know how much they’ll talk to each other about it, but I think you can trust my family to be discreet.”
Meaning it shouldn’t get to my mom and dad until I was ready to tell them. They were moving and changing their life, leaving the life I’d known with them. Maybe they wouldn’t think I was an even worse son than they’d thought for poaching Eli’s girlfriend.
When the server arrived, she wasn’t much older than the hostess. She smiled widely at Summer, then turned to me, her gaze stroking over my scar, then dipping to my chest. Appreciation sparked in her eyes.
Well, shit. I was used to morbid fascination. Not . . . this.
The change in perspective was a nice pick-me-up. Perhaps I could do with making more small talk around Bourbon Canyon, so people wouldn’t worry I’d come down the mountain in a rage.
How long had I let my insecurities control my life? Had they been a handy excuse that eventually became my own reality? A way to delude myself into never leaving home and avoiding the parts of life I couldn’t reclaim?
When the server turned to me, professionally aloof after the first once-over, the rest of my tension drained.
“I’ll have what she’s having,” I said.
When we were alone again, I reached across the table.
There was a part of Summer’s life I had considered on the drive to Bozeman.
I still wasn’t interested in drinking alcohol, I had no reason to, but spirits were a huge part of her life.
Bourbon was in the Baileys’ blood, and Summer and her sisters weren’t immune.
They’d grown up learning about the distilling process, tasting the product, and working in every facet of the industry.
If I wanted Summer, then I had to accept all of her. “When we’re done, can I see where you work?”
Summer
Jonah parked in front of Copper Summit. “I’ve never seen this place.”
“Even when you and Teller were close?”
He shook his head. His dark eyes reflected the lights of the parking lot around the warehouse portion. The nicer part of the building where we sold bottles and merchandise, along with the offices, was in the front. “There’s no bar?”
“No, not here. We didn’t even include a tasting room. We wanted a more practical place for high levels of packaging and distribution. If Wynter had moved to Bozeman, maybe we’d have opened a small bar. Instead, we do tours and sell single-barrel spirits.”
“Darin wanted to funnel tourism to Bourbon Canyon.”
“Yep.” I chuckled. “That too. Daddy was clever like that. Want a personal tour?”
“I want to see what you do.”
I waved toward the distillery. “I do all of it.” I might have sounded a little cocky, but I could step in anywhere from finding suppliers to packaging. “I can’t drive the delivery trucks though. The ones that require more than a regular license anyway.”
“I was going to say—I’ve seen you drive plenty of delivery trucks.”
“Only the small ones,” I purred. Daddy had put me and my siblings in every role.
Jonah gave a disgruntled grumble and opened his door. I got out and met him in front.
After I let both of us in and rearmed the security system, I faced the open area in front of us.
“Off to the right are the walkways that link to the barrel houses. When Tate was in charge, he built it attached to the building with heat cycling, but we still use the barrel house at the end of the lot. Mother Nature is in charge of the heating and cooling in that building.”
“The temperature predictability must be a nice change.”
“It is, especially for our more commercial lines. Most years, we get enough temperature change for the barrels to really expand and contract and pull out flavors from the wood.” I gestured to the nook with the security light partway down one of the walkways.
“The bottling line is on the other side. That’s when the attached aging house is nice. I’ll show you where all the fun is.”