11. Daisy
11
DAISY
I look at myself in the mirror. I couldn’t wait to get those black pants off earlier; they were seriously starting to cut my diaphragm in half. Now, after unpacking, taking a quick shower, and redoing my hair, I’ve applied a light coat of makeup and am ready for dinner.
I will admit, I was nervous today. The car that picked me up from my apartment was new, polished, and the leather seats were so clean, I literally slid across them when we took a corner. Then I was driven straight onto the tarmac and stepped inside the private jet. That’s an experience that I’ll never forget.
As I swipe gloss onto my lips, I hear a knock at the front door. With one last glance at myself, I decide that jeans and a nice green top are what I’m going with, and I rush out.
When I first saw Connor, it left me breathless. He’s even better-looking than I remember, yet also even more infuriating. The first two times I saw him, he was dressed casually. Today, however, he was in a business suit, and I had to clamp my jaw shut so it didn’t fall to the floor. It didn’t take long, though, before his arrogance came through, of course picking on Sunshine’s lack of aesthetics, and he was definitely smug when he showed me the spa space. But I was almost too gobsmacked to fire back at him. It’s amazing, and I have been pinching myself all afternoon that I got such a beautiful spa to develop into a thriving, profitable spa business.
Then to meet his dad, Tanner, and have the two of them in the same room was almost too much. Testosterone oozes from them. I’m not sure if it’s because they’re huge men, but they both have a commanding presence, yet kind eyes. It’s an odd mix, but one I’m finding incredibly hard to ignore. I’m not sure what they put in the water here in Whispers, but it’s working. Must be the mineral springs.
“Hey,” I say, opening the door and then pulling up short. Connor has changed as well. Dark denim jeans, a navy button-down shirt open at the collar, and his cuffs are rolled up, showing arms that are thick and look like they could carry anything. I swallow before looking back at his eyes, just in time to see him do a quick canvass of me as well, his hand running down his beard. His expression’s tight, making my nervousness even worse.
“Are you ready?” he asks me, frowning, like I’ve kept him waiting for hours. I bite my tongue so a sassy comment doesn’t slip out.
The man is beautiful, but his personality sure leaves a lot to be desired, and while I try to live a life of peacefulness, with daily yoga and breathwork, I can’t help my fiery nature every time I’m with him.
I look up at him and blink a few times. The sun is setting behind him, the soft orange glow giving him the kind of lighting that photographers dream of, and his natural good looks, his piercing eyes, and his broad shoulders sure give women something to swoon over.
“Yes, all set,” I say, trying to be nice, grabbing my bag and walking out, proud that I can keep my smart-ass mouth in check for once as I follow him to his truck.
I peeked at his place earlier, hiding behind the thick, lush curtains of my quarters. The two homes are almost identical, log cabin style. Double story, featuring stone, and the one I’m in is like a luxury mansion, so I’m sure his is the same. The reality of exactly how wealthy this family is, is starting to show and it’s eye-watering. I mean, all the media articles I read indicated that they were astronomically wealthy, but I didn’t think too much about it all until now.
“Here,” he almost barks at me, and I jolt to a stop as he leans over me and opens the passenger door to his truck. I haven’t had anyone open a door for me before. I’m not sure how this is all meant to go or what the protocol is. It’s something I envied whenever I saw it happen to other women, and when I see it on TV, I always swoon. Now, though, I’m so taken aback I’m not sure exactly what to say, standing here, wide-eyed.
“Ahhhh… Thank you,” falls from my lips as his face remains hard-set. Clearly, he’s had a bad afternoon or something, because he seems more agitated than earlier. I look back at the door that sits wide open. It’s probably something he’s done hundreds of times, for hundreds of women, and I take in a breath as I look up at the seat in the truck.
It seems almost too far away. His truck is huge, not unlike the man himself. Black, shiny, and I assume it’s top of the line, if the luxurious look of it is anything to go by. It was something I noticed when I arrived and drove to the distillery with Victoria. Everyone in Whispers has a truck of some description. They were practically the only types of vehicles on the roads.
“Um, I…” I stutter as I step forward and grab on to the side of the door panel as my cheeks start to flame in embarrassment. I haven’t been in a truck like this before, and I have no idea how to climb up into it while trying to remain well put together. Thank God, I didn’t wear a dress tonight, because the chances of me falling on my butt are extremely high. Now I’m regretting the jeans I put on as well, because they’re somewhat restrictive. Activewear would have been perfect for this. Although not suitable for a work dinner.
While I’m flexible, due to years of yoga, my legs are short and stocky, and my upper body strength isn’t great, so I’m not entirely sure I can pull myself up into his truck.
“Problem?” he asks, like I’m deliberately causing an issue, and I look at him, frowning. His brow furrows in confusion.
“Yes, there’s a problem,” I start, disguising my embarrassment in slight anger and completely directing it at him. “How is any woman supposed to get up into this monstrosity of a truck?”
“It’s not a monstrosity. It’s the latest model,” he grits out.
“Potato, potahto,” I quip, because it doesn’t matter, the issue is the same.
His frown deepens as he looks at me, then looks at the truck, and back again.
“The girls brought me a stepladder as a joke, but now it would probably be useful.”
“Girls?” I ask and internally cringe because that came out too fast. It also isn’t any of my business. Of course a man like Connor has girls. Multiple. God, I bet he satisfies every single one of them. Probably simultaneously.
“Lacy and Victoria.”
I breathe out, trying to will my insides to stop having a disco in my stomach. When I searched Connor online, he had a myriad of women on his arms over the years, but I couldn’t see any information on a permanent female in his life. I know he isn’t married and doesn’t have any children, the woman from the football game the other night clearly not anyone to him either, not that any of that should be of any concern to me.
“Here,” he says, then grabs my waist and hoists me into the air and onto the seat. It happens so quickly that I don’t have time to register what’s going on before I’m seated in his truck and not sure I have the capacity to breathe. His soft leather seats are comfortable on my backside, and there’s so much leg room, I feel like I can swing my legs. I’m so high up, I look down on everything. Except him. We’re now eye to eye.
“You alright?” he asks, the frown gone and replaced with a small smirk that I want wiped off his face immediately. He’s clearly taking too much enjoyment out of seeing my embarrassment as I sit, dumbfounded, a few feet up in the air.
“I… ahhhh, um, I mean… sure. Thank you.” My mind swirls in disbelief, throat feeling dry, my cheeks flamed. No one has ever lifted me before. Never in my life has anyone even attempted. I can’t remember my parents lifting me as a kid, with me being a bigger girl ever since I made it to double digits. Now, in a matter of a few seconds, Connor not only attempted, but succeeded in lifting me from the ground like I weighed nothing more than a matchstick. I look at him still standing on the ground at my open door, watching me. He isn’t panting or sweating, doesn’t look like it was hard work or exhausting. He isn’t moaning about a sore back.
“Don’t forget your seat belt.” He slams the door closed, and I grab my seat belt and buckle in tight. Running around the truck to his side, he jumps in with complete ease, and I huff.
As we drive out, it’s silent for a moment, before he asks, “So how do you feel about coming to Whispers?”
Is this a loaded question? Is he testing me? Are we making small talk right now? I look out the window and think carefully about my answer. The view is beautiful here. Rolling hills on one side, the large distillery on the other. Nothing but crisp, green pastures and clean air, and now that we’re moving, I relax a little. There’s something about Connor that makes me want to be completely honest with him, so I just go with that.
“So far, so good. I find it odd that someone like you calls this town home…”
He leans one arm on his door, the other gripping the wheel, the veins in his arms popping out every now and then as he turns this large truck with ease onto the road. I wasn’t sure I had a thing for arms before now. But at this moment, I’m wondering what they would feel like around my naked body.
“Someone like me?” he asks, and I roll my lips to keep from smiling.
“Well, it’s just that, you’re so… tidy,” I say and almost cringe.
“Tidy?”
“Tall, big… well… maintained.” I slam my lips shut, wondering if I could be more awkward.
“Is that a compliment? Are you complimenting me, Daisy?” he teases, and I roll my eyes.
“Just… I figure you would be more of a city guy,” I say, wishing I just started with that benign fact, as my cheeks heat. I turn my head to look out the window, but not before noticing his grin.
“Well, Whispers is pretty well maintained, so I like it here.” He lets me off the hook. “So that there is called Marie’s Place. Victoria owns it. Not sure if she told you about it?”
I shake my head while looking through the trees at what seems to be a beautiful white farmhouse with a large, new-looking red shed out back.
“No, she didn’t mention it,” I tell him, and he clears his throat.
“She’s from New York, was left the place by her aunt when she passed, and moved here to remodel it.”
I did see on the briefing paper they sent through that Victoria was managing the fit-out of the spa, so it all makes sense.
“Sounds like she’s very talented,” I confirm.
“It takes around ten minutes to get to town. Most of this land here is farmland, and the mineral springs are on Victoria’s land, just over that hill.” He points out a few landmarks and things as he continues to give me a little info on the town. I remain quiet, taking it all in.
“So this is Main Street,” he says as we make a turn, and I see the town come to life. It’s magical. A quaint street, well maintained, colorful flowers, beautiful big trees. I fall in love with it immediately. It’s everything that I imagined and the small amount of research I did hasn’t done it justice, because it’s absolutely stunning. I spot a small church on the corner that we pass, and I look over at Connor to see him watching me.
“Have you always lived here in Whispers?” I ask him, and his face softens.
“Except for college, and I spend a fair bit of time in New York at our office there, but I love being here.”
I can see the love he has for this town written all over his face. It’s refreshing. I’m sure he’s ruthless when he wants to be, and to me, he’s somewhat infuriating. He has this edge to him that makes me think that people don’t cross him too much, but he seems almost soft and genuine too.
“We have a hardware store over there that's managed by Bob. Homewares over here, I’m pretty sure Victoria has a loyalty card to that place,” he mumbles, and I laugh a little.
“What about that? What was that?” I ask, seeing a nice shop all closed up, with newspapers lining the windows.
“Ahh, that was the old florist. They moved on, and we haven’t found a new tenant for that space yet.” His tone changes slightly, face falling, and I turn to look at the shop again. It’s cute, double fronted, with large windows, and it’s surrounded by gardens. From what I can see, a small lawn and garden out back. It looks almost picturesque.
“Whispers didn’t need a florist? Did she go out of business?” I’m intrigued, because even though the town looks like it’s thriving, I guess it would be hard as a small business to make money in a place like this unless you had something pretty special.
“She… ahhh. Well, truth time,” he mumbles, and I look over to him with curiosity. “Jasmine was from the next town over. She was here for about a year, did a good trade, but unfortunately, had some mental health issues, one being that she was infatuated with my dad and didn’t take too kindly to Victoria moving here. Burned down her shed at Marie’s Place in a jealous rage.”
I suck in a breath at that. While the small town is beautiful and quaint, I wonder if safety is an issue here. Should I triple lock my door at night?
“Does that kind of thing happen often?”
“Nope.” He shakes his head before moving on, leaving me with a myriad of questions that he’s obviously not prepared to answer. “We have the diner over there. Rochelle has been cooking for this town for years and will cook you anything you want. Farther down, we have the Toy Store, great for if you have any nieces or nephews,” he adds, and I shake my head.
“Nope, I’m an only child,” I tell him. Even though I do love kids, I’m not around them much.
“Me too.”
“Wow, will you look at that? We actually have something in common,” I say, my tone only half-sarcastic as I match his grin, which is fast becoming one of my favorite things about him.
“Hmmm, probably the only thing,” he quips, and he’s right. We’re complete opposites, not just in the way we look, but everything about us. “We’re here.”
I whip my head around to the front, looking through the windshield, and take in the large building in front of me. The now familiar gold Whiteman’s Whiskey badge is displayed front and center on the building, people wandering in, and the parking lot is full of trucks.
“Looks popular.”
Connor jumps out of the truck and runs around to my side. My heart thuds a little. This is all so unusual. For the most part, I jump in and out of Ubers or taxis, the drivers rushing me out so they can get to their next job, but as he opens my door with a sweet chivalry that I’m now certain is only found in small towns, I take off my seat belt and swivel toward the door, looking down at the large drop that’s before me. I could jump, but I would probably break an ankle.
“Come on, we haven’t got all night,” he grumbles and again grabs me around my waist, lowering me to the ground in front of him with complete ease. I grip on to the doorframe, scared I’m going to fall, but I shouldn’t have been concerned. He lowers me right in front of him, and I pull in a breath as my body stills in shock. His scent wraps around me, a fresh, earthy aroma that smells almost natural, like a walk in the woods. I pick up scents of sandalwood and cedar, and I nearly hum at how delicious the combination is on him.
“Thank you,” I say, feeling my blush creep from my chest up my neck. God, how long has it been since a man had his hands on my body?
“I can be nice sometimes.” His voice is a rough rumble near my ear, reminding me exactly how close our bodies are. Like we notice it at the same time, he takes a quick step backward, holding the door open, and I move forward, needing the cool air against my heated skin.
This stupid crush I seem to have developed cannot be happening. He’s just showing manners and would do it for any female with short legs, I’m sure of it. I have this job that could literally set me up for life; I can’t forget that.
And while we’re not technically boss and employee, with me on a consulting contract to his business, he might as well be, as much as that thought is something I’ve been pushing against this whole time. All this helping me into his truck and panty-melting grins are just part of small-town hospitality. Something an educated city girl like me should be more aware of.
I follow him up the stairs and into the bar, Connor holding the heavy timber door open for me to enter, and as I walk inside, I look around, smiling. It’s exactly like you would see in the movies. Almost postcard perfect. Timber is showcased everywhere, and the ceiling has big antler chandeliers that I love. There’s a large, roaring stone fireplace and tables and chairs spread around, with booths lining both sides.
The place is busy, full of people sitting at tables, standing up at the sparkling bright bar. and walking around chatting with each other like they’re one happy family. There’s a rustic timber dance floor off to the side, and when I see some people line dancing, my smile is immediate. Dancing is one of the things I love to do but rarely get the chance. My mom would love this place too. Having grown up in a commune, this kind of living would be second nature to her. Maybe that’s why I’ve taken to the small town so quickly. It’s in my blood. As I look at all the faces, my grin falters as I realize that they’re all looking in one direction. At me.
“Don’t worry about all the eyes. They always look at who the new people are. Small town, everyone likes to know everyone’s business.” I hear his voice in my ear again before I feel his hand at the small of my back. I know it’s just manners, but it feels nice. It’s simple yet appreciative gestures, not overstepping, but certainly taking control, assisting me yet keeping me close.
“Let’s go, our table is at the back,” he says, guiding me through. Everyone seems to know him, and they’re all looking at the two of us with interest. A few men shake his hand and say hello, but he doesn’t leave my side once, and his hand remains on my back the entire way, until I see Victoria and Tanner waiting for us at a booth. Victoria has a large smile that immediately puts me at ease, and Tanner looks between Connor and me, at where his hand is, like he’s seeing something for the first time.
“You made it. Welcome to Whiteman’s Bar,” Victoria says, grinning as I slip into the booth on the opposite side of her, and Connor follows me in.
“Thank you, it’s beautiful here,” I tell them, relieved to be hiding in the booth, away from all the people, and Tanner gives me a small nod in what I think is appreciation for my words. The look on his face is similar to Connor’s earlier when he drove me here, full of pride, and I’m starting to understand that these two men may run this town, if the size of this bar is anything to go by.
“Great burgers here too,” Victoria says, winking as I grab a menu to look over. I’m not sure of the etiquette with work dinners, but I’m smart enough to know not to order the most expensive thing on the menu, so as the waitress takes our order, they all choose burgers, and I follow their lead.
“So, how did you find the house?” Victoria asks, and I smile.
“It’s lovely, stunning.” It’s the truth. Total luxury and in complete contrast to the two-bedroom apartment I share with Trisha. I make a mental note to text her tonight to let her know I arrived, because I know she’ll want all the details.
“And is your neighbor treating you well?” she teases as she looks at Connor, while Tanner sits back and surveys the atmosphere.
“Hey, I’m a perfect neighbor,” Connor banters, and I grin. It’s good to see him friendly with his staff members, although Victoria and Tanner do look rather cozy for a boss and employee.
“His choice of music can be questionable,” Victoria says playfully.
“Better than yours. Thanks, Mom ,” Connor says sarcastically, and I still. Did he just call her mom? I look between the two of them, who continue with their conversation, and then to Tanner. He watches me as I feel confusion and slight panic at trying yet failing to understand this dynamic.
Connor and Victoria look to be the same age. I think back to the woman who owned the florist and who had issues, and I wonder what kind of place have I come to? I look around the bar again. Everything feels luxurious and normal, but am I in a commune or something? Mom hasn’t really told me much about commune life, but I’m sure it looks nothing like this. Shit, is this some small-town cult?
“I can see your head about to explode. Victoria and I are partners. Connor is being a smart-ass,” Tanner grumbles before Victoria and Connor stop talking and look at me.
It’s then I feel my cheeks heat in slight embarrassment at jumping to stupid conclusions.
“Yeah, and my taste in music isn’t that bad,” Connor says before he lifts his glass of whiskey to his lips and looks at me over the rim of the glass.
“I will reserve my judgment.” I want to make a good impression on everyone, yet I’m still trying to figure out the dynamics. I look over to the dance floor again, country music coming from a jukebox nearby and people, young and old, all move in time, doing the same routine. It’s cute. Tanner runs his hand around the back of the booth and around Victoria’s shoulders, and she leans into him a little. They actually really suit each other, despite what must be a massive age gap.
“Hmmm… I didn’t pick you for a judgy person,” Connor comments, and I look up at him.
“Not usually. But musical taste might be where I draw the line.” My love for eighties music runs deep. It was the best era, in my opinion.
“Really?” Connor asks with a grin as he moves in his seat and faces me, Victoria and Tanner now talking among themselves.
I shrug. “Well, music says a lot about a person.”
“So you like more than windpipes and waves crashing?” His eyes narrow on me, teasing.
“Eighties all the way,” I tell him, and his eyebrows shoot to his hairline.
“Seriously?”
“Yes, seriously.” I nod, wondering why I’m telling him one of my cringiest hobbies.
“I mean, Bon Jovi, Michael Jackson, Whitney Houston, there’s a lot to love about that era.” His eyes sparkle in delight as he watches me, and I’m enjoying this conversation just as much.
“Well, what’s your favorite?” I ask inquisitively.
“Country, of course.” He tilts his head in the direction of the dance floor. “Dolly and Kenny killed it in the eighties.”
I look back at him as his smile widens. He seems more relaxed now, sitting back in this booth, jeans on, whiskey in his hand.
“‘Islands in the Stream.’ It’s a good one,” I agree, nodding, actually loving that song. I smile at him as we watch each other with what feels like new admiration. Almost like we have crossed an invisible barrier, and I’m starting to think I perhaps misjudged him.
“Looks like we might have another thing in common now, doesn’t it, Daisy?” he murmurs, his thick drawl as he says my name low and almost a rumble. My mouth dries at the sexy sound.
“Don’t get ahead of yourself, cowboy,” I quip, our eyes still only on each other as I feel my heart thumping a little more rapidly than it has in some time. “I see it now,” I say, not at all covertly. I couldn’t move my eyes from him if I tried.
“See what?” he asks as he moves his arm and places it at the back of the seat, turning his body to face me completely, not dissimilar to the way Tanner’s is at the back of Victoria. The move cocoons us. We’re close, yet I don’t feel contained. I feel safe. Warm. Although that could be the fact that my temperature is rising the closer we get.
“See how this is your home,” I tell him, thinking back to the conversation we had on the drive in.
“You can take the boy out of the country…”
“But you can’t take the country out of the boy,” I finish for him.
“Now you get it, Daisy. I love it here, and I think you’re going to fall in love with Whispers the longer you’re here too,” he says with full confidence, his eyes searching mine. I swallow hard and wonder if they turned up the thermostat in here.
“I’ve never been in love…” I say, almost absentmindedly, the two of us so close now, I feel his breath on my cheeks.
“Sail away with me… to another world…”
I grin, the lyrics of the song so ingrained in my head.
“Cheesy… but I’ll pass it,” I say, both of us laughing together.
How am I supposed to get through this crush? It was fine when he was being arrogant and insulting at Sunshine. But now, I know he’s a nice guy. I’m not going to survive.
As Victoria draws me into a new conversation, chatting about the spa again, I pretend my racing heart has more to do with the nerves of starting a new job than from sitting next to a man who can make my pussy clench just from the sound of his voice.
Yeah. This is going to be a long month.