Chapter 12
Whiskey
One brutal blow with my axe and the wood splinters neatly into two pieces. Sophie’s words from earlier are still ringing in my ears. You’re my man.
I could have come right there just from that breathy confession on her lips. I want to be her man and her husband and the father of her children. I want everything with the curvy little witch and her black cat.
But doing that means facing some people. It means owning up to the fact that I’ve basically ignored my family for the past three years. I’ve stayed up on this mountain, thinking that I could hide out here forever.
I told myself it was fine, that it was OK as long as I was still taking care of my family. But that's a lie. The truth is, I chose the coward's way out. I'm done doing that. I’m going to face all of my fears because my girl is worth it.
“Penny for your thoughts, Marine,” Sophie calls.
I lift my head to see her looking delectable in her leather skirt and tight corset shirt. “I was thinking about my girlfriend.”
She chuckles. “Were those thoughts filthy by any chance?”
“Always,” I say, tossing down the axe and stalking across the distance. I pull her into my arms and give her a kiss that quickly turns heated.
“Take me inside and show me what you’re thinking,” she breathes, crushed against my sweaty chest. Even through the layers of her clothes, I can feel her breasts heaving. I love knowing that I’ve made her breathless. I’m going to spend the rest of my life doing that.
“Not yet. Tomorrow night,” I promise her. I already have the perfect idea all planned out.
“Why? What’s special about tomorrow night?”
“Tomorrow night I’m taking you on our first date. I’ll pick you up at six.”
“And you’re confident you’ll get lucky after that?” Her tone is teasing. Fuck, she’s adorable when she’s sassy.
“No.” I rub my nose against hers. “But I’m confident you will. I’m already looking forward to my dessert.”
She makes a little whimper. It’s the one she makes in my bed she’s looking forward to having me stuff her full of my cock. “I guess I could clear my schedule for that.”
I smirk at her. “Good girl.”
I park at the end of the driveway and stare up at my mom’s house. In the early morning sunlight, it looks like the same as it did all those years ago when I saw it for the first time. Emma May took me in when I was a teenager with nowhere to go.
She gave me more than a warm bed or three square meals a day. She gave me the feeling someone cared about me. She helped me where I’d fallen behind with my schooling, making sure I was able to graduate on time with my peers.
She taught me how to do simple things that no one else ever cared enough about like how to do my own laundry, balance a checkbook, and cook a decent meal. She did it all with endless grace and persistence patience. She changed my life.
Since I came back to Courage County, I’ve looked out for her in little ways. I make sure her gutters are clear during autumn, and her sidewalks are free from snow during the winter. In the spring and summer, I keep her lawn neatly edged and mowed.
But I haven’t let her see me. I’ve kept my distance, too afraid she’d be disappointed in the man I am now. The thought makes my palms feel clammy, and I push back against the bile threatening to rise up.
Gathering my courage, I turn off the ignition for my truck and trudge up the steps to her door.
I rap lightly on the door, already knowing that the buzzer is broken.
It has been for years. A tabby cat winds its way around my legs, looking up at me with a mischievous smile as if he knows something I don’t.
Emma May flings open the door. She looks different than the last time we talked.
Yeah, I’ve caught glimpses of her around town.
But now that I’m actually looking at her, I can see the evidence of time on her face.
It’s a little more lined than before, and her hair in its familiar braid down her back is now completely silver.
She peers up at me from behind bifocals, blinking like an owl that doesn’t quite believe what she’s seeing.
A lump forms in my throat the sight of this amazing woman. Still, I manage to croak out, “Hi, Mama. I’m home.”
She bursts into tears and throws herself at me. She buries her head in my flannel and sobs so hard that her entire frame shakes.
I wish I hadn’t waited so long. Maybe this wouldn’t hurt her so much if I’d just told her when I was in town. “It’s OK. I’m here now. I’m safe.”
When she finally has cried herself out, she pulls back. I see the tear tracks on her face and the smudges on her bifocals. Guilt slices through me. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?” She ushers me inside, reaching for a decorative tea towel to clean her face with.
“For staying away so long,” I manage to squeeze out around the lump.
Didn’t realize how hard today would be, how much I’d want to run back to my cabin and disappear inside of it.
Life on the mountain is harder in a lot of ways.
I don’t have modern conveniences like pumpkin spice lattes and those delicious desserts from Courage Cookies.
But it’s also easier in that there are no people. No messy emotions. Nothing to make me think about how as much as I pretend to be a loner, I’m part of a big family. Everyone in Courage is family, and I haven’t been acting like it.
She puts the electric kettle on, the cheerful teal color has started to fade and chip. I bought it for her for her birthday one year. She’s used it every day since. “I’m just happy you’re back.”
I stand awkwardly, not sure what to do or say. This place still looks exactly like I remember it. She hasn’t changed anything in years, and I doubt she’s about to start redecorating now. “I’m trying to…find my way.”
“You’re home. That’s all that matters to me.
” She moves around the kitchen, her house slippers making the familiar flap against the worn linoleum.
I missed that sound. I remember listening to as a teenager as I fell asleep.
She’d be up, pacing the floors and waiting for my other brothers to get in for their curfew.
I asked her about it once and she told me that when your kids get to be a certain age, the only things left to do are pace and pray.
“I’ve been here a while, living in a cabin in the mountains,” I admit. “I didn’t feel like I was home until just recently.”
“Now you do?” There’s no mistaking the hope in her tone.
I feel myself smiling easily. I do that more since I’ve met Sophie. There’s just something about being with her that makes me smile. She lights up my life. I didn’t even realize I was sitting in darkness until she burst in like sunshine after years of rain. “I met a girl. She’s my whole world.”
An odd expression crosses my mom’s face. I have the feeling there’s something she wants to tell me. It’s the same look she would get around Christmas and my birthday, a secret she’s been keeping to herself for too long is dancing on the tip of her tongue.
Before I can ask her what it is, her phone buzzes on the kitchen counter. She frowns and picks it up. She listens for a moment before she turns off the kettles. “I’m on my way.”
“What’s happening?” I push to my feet. We haven’t talked in years. I know she wouldn’t be leaving unless this were important.
“Another cowboy’s wife went into labor. I’m on babysitting duty for now. But there’s something I have to tell you.”
“Tell me tonight. I’ll be at the autumn festival tonight. You can meet my girl then,” I promise, dropping a kiss to her weathered cheek.
After meeting with mom, I spend the day on the mountain working around my cabin.
Sophie was gone by the time I arrived home.
She left a note to let me know she’s hanging out with Mallory from Sew Cute.
She said there was something she wanted to talk to me about later, but there was a smiley face by it, so I’m guessing it’s good news.
At ten minutes to six, I knock on my cabin door with flowers in my hand.
Sophie opens the door, flushing bright red. “You don’t have to ring the bell at your own place.”
“This is how a man shows up on the first date with his future wife.” I hold out the bouquet of orange and red mums, her favorite flowers.
Her delighted smile makes my heart soar. “These are beautiful.”
“I can’t wait to show you off at the autumn festival.”
She freezes, the flowers halfway to her nose. “Whiskey, we don’t have to go into town. I don’t expect—“
“I know you don’t expect me to. But you’re my future and I’m proud to show you off,” I tell her, meaning every word. She may not see herself as brave, but she is. I want to be brave right alongside her and that means showing up for her.
The look she gives me is everything. “And I’m proud to be on your arm, Marine.”
Warmth blooms in my chest. I know she’s supposed to leave next week for the race. She’s supposed to return home to Georgia after that, but she doesn’t know that I’m planning to follow her. She’s my home now, and I’ll follow her anywhere she wants to go.