Chapter 5
Chapter Five
Ian
“Are you drunk?” I ask, studying Winnie. She looks a little…wobbly.
I’m not judging. I’m just concerned. It’s dark out now and she’s in unfamiliar surroundings with nowhere really to stay. I’m not okay with her wandering around by herself or going to an empty apartment.
“No.” But even as she says it, she seems to tilt forward ever-so-slightly, then stumbles a little.
I grab her elbow to steady her. “I think you’re drunk.”
“You’re drunk.”
That makes me chuckle. “I haven’t even had any alcohol.”
“I don’t know why I said that,” she admits. “I don’t drink very often. It’s possible I am tipsy.”
“How many mint juleps did you have?” For her sake, I hope just one. The excessive sugar and cheap bourbon in those is a hangover waiting to happen.
“Two.”
That’s two more than I would recommend.
I reach over behind my display and pull out a bottle of water from the cooler I have back there. I’m not sure how sanitary the water in my display is. It’s just meant to be a visual aid, not a water fountain. “Here. Drink this.”
“Thank you.” She chugs half of it. “I think it’s bedtime for me and Barrel.”
“That is an excellent idea. But you don’t have a bed at your apartment so that’s a problem.”
“I’m not planning to stay in my apartment. I’m staying at the shelter.”
I turn to stare at her in horror.
“You are not going to spend the night alone in an animal shelter. Where are you going to sleep? In a cage?”
“Don’t be silly.”
“I’m silly?”
“There are chairs in the reception area I can stretch out on.”
“Absolutely fucking not. You can stay at my house,” I say firmly.
I wouldn’t sleep a single wink if I knew she was passed out on a plastic chair in the shelter. Wanted is a safe town, but that seems both dangerous and very uncomfortable. Not to mention noisy. There are probably a dozen dogs in residence.
“Your house? You have a house?” Winnie looks at me with such astonishment I’m actually amused.
“Yes, I have a house. In town. It’s red brick and has terrible plumbing. Where do you think I live?”
“I don’t know. But I can’t stay with you. I don’t even know you.”
“You know my brother.”
“Not really. I know your brother’s fiancé.”
“Let’s call Faith and we can ask her if she thinks your idea or mine is better.” I take out my phone and scroll through and find Faith before Winnie can protest. I tap the screen and as it starts ringing I put it on speaker.
“Ian? Hi! What’s up? Are you calling to ask me about my very cute and very fun friend, Winnie?”
“In a way, yes. Winnie is right here with me and she’s being stubborn.”
Winnie gasps. “That’s a lie, Faith!”
“It is not. Her apartment is totally empty. No furniture, no lights, no blankets—
“Not true, I have a dog blanket.”
“—and she wants to stay there tonight.”
“I can use the dog food as a pillow and Barrel and his blanket for warmth and comfort. It’s all I really need.”
“Good Lord,” Faith says. “Is she drunk? Winnie, are you drunk?”
“Probably.”
“Or as an alternative to the empty apartment she is insisting she can stay at the animal shelter.”
“That sounds awful,” is Faith’s immediate reaction. “Winnie, why didn’t you say anything? I feel so bad we’re not in town.”
“I suggested she stay at my house,” I say. “But she says she can’t because she doesn’t know me. Can you reassure her I’m not a psychopath?”
“He’s definitely not a psychopath,” my future sister-in-law says. “Ian is totally a gentleman.”
My brother’s voice pipes in. “Ian has zero moves. You’re totally safe, Winnie.”
Okay. Sometimes I hate my brothers.
“Shut the fuck up,” I tell him.
Mackay just laughs.
“Stay with Ian,” Faith says. “You’ll be so much more comfortable. I’d say stay at our house but we’re forty minutes out of town in the country and Mackay is allergic to dogs so you can’t bring Barrel.”
“I don’t have a car,” Winnie says. “Just a moving truck. And I can’t be without Barrel.”
“Even if you did have a car, you can’t drive it,” I tell her. “You had two mint juleps.”
“Those things are lethal,” Faith says. “Miss Bettie got up on a table and sang Danny Boy last year after just one Spring Fling mint julep.”
“They were very refreshing,” Winnie says, nodding her head.
“You won’t think so tomorrow,” Mackay says. “Best take a couple of aspirins before bed.”
“So we’re settled then? All in favor of Winnie and Barrel staying at my house say aye.”
“Aye,” Faith says instantly.
“Aye,” from Mackay.
“Aye,” I say.
Winnie bites her lip in a way that is both adorable and sexy.
She really is gorgeous.
And so out of my league.
I’ve put my foot in my mouth a couple of times already with her.
But I am not going to let her sleep in that shelter, end of story. She can think whatever she wants of me at this point. It’s just not acceptable.
“Aye, aye,” Winnie says, and gives me a salute.
That makes me chuckle.
I end the call with Faith and Mackay and eye Winne. “Are you comfortable with this plan? If not, I’ll drive you to Lexington and get you a hotel for the night. But you’re not sleeping in an empty apartment or an animal shelter.”
“I’m okay with it. Thank you. It’s a kind offer. And thank you for catching Barrel earlier if I didn’t already tell you that.”
“You did, but you’re welcome. On both counts.” I flick off the water feature for my booth. “We can head out now. I’m out of samples for today so there’s no reason to hang around.”
“You promised me a bourbon sampler. I’ll have to cash in on that tomorrow.”
I shoot her a grin. “That’s probably the last thing you’re going to want tomorrow. But if you’re up for it I’m happy to share my samples with you.”
Instantly, I realize that sounds…weird.
“Are you flirting with me?” Winnie grins at me.
I groan, but I smile back because her grin is infectious. “If I am, I’m doing a terrible job at it.”
Winnie just laughs.
“My house is on Spring Street,” I say. “We can walk there if that’s fine with you.”
“Awesome. The cool night air feels amazing, honestly.” She takes another sip from the water bottle and follows me, Barrel striding by her side.
The dog’s perfect trot lasts about four steps and then he wanders off to the right, cutting me off. “We’ve been working on this,” she says, trying to tug him back to his opposite side. “It’s going amazing, as you can tell.”
“He’s had an exciting day. I’m sure we can cut him a little slack. So you’ll be working at the shelter? You obviously love animals.”
“I do.” She looks almost wistful. “They’re just so honest and pure. What is better than the unconditional love of a dog?”
“Not much. Dogs and babies. They’re the best.”
“Do you have any pets?”
“No, sadly, I do not. I’m not home enough to have a pet without feeling guilty that they’d be neglected. I thought about a cat, but cats really choose their humans, more so than humans choose a particular cat, don’t you think?”
“I agree. Half the people I know with a cat just had them show up on their doorstep. It’s like, “hey, I live here now, thanks.”
“Total confidence that they’ll be accepted. It’s amazing.” I tuck my hands in my pockets as we walk. “I feel like every fall we have a cat show up at the rick houses and just target an employee. By the time the leaves have fallen, their Chosen One is taking them home.”
She gives a soft laugh. “That sounds about right. What’s a rick house?”
“The warehouses where we store the bourbon barrels for aging. They’re racked on top of each other.” I can’t keep the pride out of my voice and Winnie picks up on it.
“You love Four Brothers Bourbon, don’t you?” she asks.
I nod. “It’s my baby. My recipe. Yes, my brothers are the marketing and businessmen who make it all possible, but the bourbon itself? That’s my creation and I’m really damn proud of it.”
“I can tell.”
“I’ve given years of my life to raising it up,” I say, giving her a shrug and a smile. “When we launched I was really damn terrified people wouldn’t like it. That would be like having someone tell you your baby is ugly.”
“Oh, God, yes, that would be terrible. I can’t imagine your baby would ever be ugly though.” Barrel suddenly jerks to the left, in pursuit of a sniff. “Ack!”
Winnie gets pulled along with him.
“He’s definitely the toddler who had too many treats today.” I pause in front of my house. “Here we go.”
Winnie drags Barrel back and looks up. “Wow, this is so pretty, Ian. I love it.”
“Thanks. I haven’t devoted as much time to it as I’d like but I do love the house. The Wanted Garden Club keeps sending me invites to join, which feels a little passive aggressive. I think they just want me to up my curb appeal.”
“Or maybe they just want to hang out with you.”
“That’s possible. I do feel a little isolated here, I’m not going to lie. I’m so busy working all the time and I haven’t quite found my footing.”
“Everyone seems in your corner. They all speak highly about the distillery.”
I just nod. “It’s a great working relationship between us and the town. We’ve hired a lot of really competent people.”
As we go up the front walk, Winnie finishes the rest of her water while Barrel christens my lawn.
“I think the fresh air and the water cleared my head quite a bit. I almost feel normal. Almost. But I can’t wait to sleep.”
“I don’t have an official guestroom. I never got around to that. You can sleep in my room and I’ll take the couch.”
“Oh my gosh, Ian, no! You’ve already been generous enough. I’ll take the couch.”
“Forget it.” Unlocking the front door, I flick on a few lights and then lead her right upstairs. “Let me just grab a change of clothes.”
“You’re so…tidy.”
Winnie says it like it’s a character flaw.
“I’m not home that much.” She hovers in the bedroom door as I grab a change of clothes for myself. “There’s an extra blanket in the chest at the foot of the bed. Let me get you a T-shirt or something to sleep in.”
“I can sleep in this.” She plucks at her sweatshirt. “Where should Barrel sleep?”
“He can bunk with you. I don’t mind.”
The smile she gives me is worth a few dog hairs in my bed. “Really? Yay!” She brushes Barrels’ fur back with her hand. “We’re having an adventure tonight, silly boy. So be good, okay?”
Barrel makes a sound that is a bark and whine combination.
“Is that him agreeing or stressing out?” I ask.
“I have no idea,” she says cheerfully.
“Let me get you both some more water.” I leave Winnie to settle in, pulling the door closed behind me.
Kicking my shoes off in the room I use as my home office, I drop my spare clothes. Glancing around the house as I go down the stairs, I try to see it through Winnie’s eyes.
She’s right. It’s tidy. It’s a house. Not a home.
I’d love to change that.
I’m ready to move out of the white-knuckle launch phase of the distillery and enjoy my life.
It would be fucking awesome if that included a dog.
And maybe a girlfriend.
In the kitchen, which has exposed brick and a pot belly stove that is purely decorative and no longer works, I grab a bowl for Barrel and two bottles of water.
When I knock on the door Winnie calls out, “Come in.”
Easing the door open I’m taken aback by the intense longing that washes over me. Winnie and Barrel are tucked into my bed together, looking sleepy and relaxed.
Sucking in a breath at the unexpected punch in the gut I experience, I’m annoyed by my own reaction.
It’s been a long time since there was a woman in my bed.
Too long.
And Winnie looks damn good in it.
Barrel yawns and put his snout on Winnie’s thigh.
I set one water bottle on the nightstand and use the other one to pour water into the bowl and set it under the window out of the way. Barrel immediately leaps off of the bed and heads right over to slurp water out of it.
“Thank you,” Winnie says. “I know Barrel is a lot of personality. My ex didn’t like him.”
An ex. I wonder how long ago the break up was. And who did the breaking up.
I keep my voice neutral though. “Yeah? Then your ex is crazy. Barrel is a cool dog.”
“My ex was a lot like you, actually. So serious.”
With that, she yawns.
What the fuck? That’s how she’s labeled me already?
Clearly, that’s that.
I should be happy. She’s not my type any more than I’m hers.
But at the same time, I want to prove her wrong. I want to lean in and kiss her, teasing her lips apart and showing her that serious men have great fucking passion.
Winnie turns and closes her eyes. “My ex wasn’t a nice guy, though,” she murmurs. “Ian Lennox, you’re a nice guy.”
Within two seconds she’s obviously asleep.
A serious, nice guy.
That’s me.
Neither of which I would change, honestly.
But it puts me in the friend zone.
And sleeping on the couch.