Chapter 10
Chapter Ten
Winnie
I didn’t expect Sunday morning to be awkward between me and Ian. I would have laid down money on the opposite. We did not fall asleep awkward. At all.
We fell asleep wrapped up together, all tangled limbs and warm bodies, exhausted from several hours of sex.
Initially when we wake up, we kiss and cuddle before Barrel’s whining is too insistent to ignore, and that feels right. Comfortable.
Ian offers to take him out, but I want to myself. Barrel had most likely spent the night comfortably on the couch but I don’t want him to feel neglected, especially with all the recent changes.
After taking Barrel for a morning walk I return to find Ian has already showered.
“I put a fresh towel in there for you,” he says.
“Great. Thanks.” I stand there for a second, hovering. Waiting. I’m waiting for him to kiss me.
Of course, I could always kiss him. But I don’t.
He’s being weird. I’m being weird.
Why the hell are we suddenly awkward?
But there is something simmering beneath the surface that has us both being a little…formal. Stiff.
I’m almost never either one of those. I don’t know why I feel so flustered.
“Should we grab breakfast at the diner?” Ian asks. “While you were walking Barrel, I contacted some high school kids who can help you move your furniture into your apartment. They’ll meet us there at eleven.”
Is he eager to get rid of me? Maybe he wants his space back. “Perfect.”
After I shower, wishing I had some clean clothes, I head downstairs and see that Ian has cleaned his kitchen. “I told you I would do that,” I protest.
He shrugs. “I wasn’t doing anything else. No reason not to clean it up.”
“I feel bad.”
“Don’t.”
Yep. This is awkward.
I can let out a sigh of relief when we get to Dinky’s Diner. Lucy is at her usual spot at the bar and she gives me a friendly smile. “Morning, kids,” she says to me and Ian.
“Morning, Lucy,” Ian said. “Buddy, please, may I have a black coffee?”
Something about Ian’s voice indicates he isn’t to be trifled with this morning because without a word Buddy pours him a coffee.
“Lemon water?” Buddy asks me.
I nod. “Thank you.”
There is a group of six teens at a table behind us and after Ian introduces us, I drink some water quickly and decide I might as well get to moving in my stuff. I think I’ve overstayed my welcome at Ian’s, which is disappointing.
I’m annoyed with myself for being disappointed.
What did I expect? We barely know each other.
Except it didn’t feel that way.
One of the teen boys says, “Ian, you’re famous.”
“What?” Ian sets his coffee down with a hard clatter.
Another boy says, “Dude, you’re blowing up online.”
Ian frowns. “Why? You mean Four Brothers?”
“No, bro, you. Hot Bourbon Guy, look it up.”
The two girls with the four boys giggle.
I pull out my phone and type.
It comes up immediately. It’s a short video of Ian on the podium the day before.
The caption reads:
HOT BOURBON GUY DESTROYS SMALL-TOWN DRAMA
When it plays, it’s Ian saying, “This town takes pride in what we make. Bourbon. Food. Traditions.”
It’s a short bit taken from his speech, and seemingly not that big of a deal. Except he looks passionate, intense. Hot.
The comments are pure internet gold.
Moving to Kentucky NOW.
This town may make bourbon but he’s making me
Add he can make a baby with me to that list.
I have something he can eat.
Mostly women. All sexual.
Some men. All sexual.
I turn the screen toward him. “Read the comments.”
Ian stares at it. His lips move as he reads. Then he sits back and shoves the phone away. “What the hell? Oh my God…”
“Told you you’re famous,” the teen boy tells him, clapping him on the back. “Tag yourself so these hot chicks will slide into your DMs.”
Ian looks horrified. “No! Absolutely not.”
“Dude, that’s crazy,” another boy says. “This is your fifteen minutes of fame and all that.”
Ian closes his eyes briefly. “I don’t want any fame unless it’s for the distillery.”
Then he pops them right back open when Buddy says, “Can I get you anything to eat, Hot Bourbon Guy?”
“You know about this?” Ian asks in astonishment. “I was hoping you of all people would not know the internet exists.”
“The town craft club shared it this morning on the Wanted social media page and then Lucy sent it to me.”
Ian groans. “This is humiliating.”
I offer him a shrug and a grin. I don’t think he would appreciate any teasing right now. Especially since he already seems eager to get away from me. But I can’t resist saying, “At least they think you’re hot.”
“I need to get ahead of this. I have to call the team at Four Brothers.” Ian abruptly sits up, shoving his chair backward. “Are you okay with these guys to move?”
Taken a little aback, I nod. “Yes. Of course.”
It doesn’t seem like a big deal to me, but Ian does have a business. If he thinks there is reason to be concerned, maybe there is. Though in a few days the video will be forgotten about. That’s how these things work.
I also think it’s flattering and downright hilarious.
But I’m left staring after Ian as he rushes out of the diner. He didn’t even say goodbye.
Lucy shoots me a look of sympathy. “That’s just how he is. Don’t worry about it, sweetie.”
She means well, but it makes me wince. This is exactly what I was trying to avoid.
Getting emotionally involved with a man who is my total opposite.
It would have been really damn smart to think about that last night before he destroyed me with his tongue but then again, I wouldn’t have had the experience of him destroying me with his tongue.
And that is a top five lifetime memory.
Even if Ian wants to see me again I should just stop it now before it goes any further and I really get in too deep.
Which given the way he has been brushing me off all morning, I don’t think he does.
That’s a frustrating dose of reality first thing on a bright and sunny spring Sunday.
It’s my turn to stand up quickly. “Are you guys all ready?” I ask the teens, abruptly.
Moving into my apartment is just the distraction I need.
They all stop laughing. One blinks and nods. “Sure, miss.”
“Then let’s get a move on, please.”
Move in today.
Go pick up my presumably second place ribbon at the festival.
Then start my new job.
That’s what I need to focus on.
Even as I mentally scold myself, my thoughts drift to the way Ian stared intently down at me as he slid his hard…
Damn it.
So much for focusing on the practical.