Chapter 6
CHAPTER SIX
Haven
As soon as it’s time for my shift in the tasting room, I veer out of my office and tear down the stairs. Lane’s at the table of screens in the distilling room, where we log all our data for the day.
I toss him a wave and enter the tasting room through the side door outside of the merch store. I flip the open sign on by the front door and light the inside up. Trying to see the space from a new person’s point of view, I stand by the large front windows.
The timber and steel aesthetic of the distillery carries into the tasting room, especially with the old pictures I rescued from the basement of my house.
The mine’s heyday is spread out in black and white, along with a few shots of the surrounding land—before my brothers moved in cattle—and an aerial of the Stillwater River cutting through our property.
Satisfied the appearance won’t scare away Prescott, I go behind the bar.
I usually pour through inventory sheets during the slow parts of a tasting room shift and do some ordering, but today, I make sure everything is stocked.
I sift through bottles and glasses, anticipating anything anyone might want, especially Prescott.
Did she try the rosemary-and-cherry-infused vodka? Did she like it? I pull three bottles of my favorite vodkas, two gins, and the most popular whiskey.
The door to the distillery cracks open, and I look up. My hopes nose-dive when Durban enters.
He frowns and glances behind him. “Disappointed?”
“Yes.” Hopefully, an honest answer will throw him off.
He slides onto a stool. “Campbell told me she’s coming tonight with Jamison. This Prescott I’ve heard a lot about—not from you—is supposed to join them. Any chance she’s behind your hound-dog expression when I walked in?”
Sometimes having astute siblings sucks. “You’re crashing their party?”
“No, I’m here to ask you about wedding stuff before they arrive.”
“You want me to lie during my speech?”
“You don’t want to do a speech.”
Now’s the time to have an astute sibling. “Nope, but I will.”
“I don’t need one. I just want to marry her.” Before the sappiness can make me heave, he continues. “Campbell would like a trail ride when Avery and Thea are here.”
“I’m in.”
“Can you and Iverson pick out a flavor of whiskey for our wedding favors?”
“Want me to make one?” Not that I’ve thought about it—but I have. I was just waiting for the go-ahead. “I can make party favors.”
Neither of my brothers ever shows a lot of emotion, but Durban is both pleased and touched. “Yeah, I’d like that. I should’ve asked earlier, but she’s basically planned this wedding once already.”
That was a fun night. “Whatever you want, Durban.” I check the time on the clock behind the counter. “Is Campbell coming this early?”
He doesn’t answer right away, and tension creeps into my bones.
He rubs a thumb and forefinger along his lower lip. “Iverson said he talked to you about Mom.”
I crunch my teeth together. “I haven’t told her yet, so why are you worried I will?”
“She has a sixth sense for when something’s up, and she can read you. If she thinks you’re not telling her something, she’s going to be a dog with a bone.”
I drop my chin down. He’s right, of course. She calls me, and I tell her about my life. My life is entwined with theirs—not so much these days—so she does sense what I’m not saying. “I’m careful when she calls.”
“She’s going to keep calling. You don’t deserve that.”
She’s Mom. I’m all she has. My brothers don’t talk to her. Men don’t give her the time of day anymore. She’s been holding down a job, but she’s lonely. I can’t just cut her off like she did to us. “You know how she is. Something else will always grab her attention sooner or later.”
He grunts. “I know, and it’s never good. But you know the real reason she made a scene here?”
“She had to make it all about herself?”
“She wanted to drive a wedge between us.” He pins me with a frank stare. “She’s using you. ”
What if she’s not? What if I need to be better than her? “Look, my lips are sealed, and I’m well aware of what she’s like.”
His gaze is steady on me. “Has she tried calling lately?”
“Last month.” When she was short on grocery money because she’d gotten pneumonia. The guys wouldn’t believe her story, so I didn’t tell them. I don’t tell them a lot when it comes to her.
“She still in Casper?”
“Gillette. Desk clerk at a hotel.”
He nods.
A windshield flashes out the front window. Excitement that it might be Prescott rises with the relief that we’re done with the topic of our mother. “They’re here.”
Two cars pull in. Campbell’s and Prescott’s. Jamison’s with Campbell.
Durban drums his fingers on the countertop. “It’s your time to shine.”
I scowl at him. “She’s just a friend.” The back of my neck grows hot. She’s not even that.
“Do her friends call her Red?”
My sisters-in-law have big mouths. I give him an impatient look before my gaze lifts above his shoulder.
Prescott has her head down. Her vibrant hair is pulled back and curls fan behind her head.
Her tan pants fall to above her ankles, and she’s wearing flat sandals.
It’s her snug top that captures me. Her full hourglass figure won’t leave my brain.
“You should invite your friend to the wedding.”
Shock fills me, and I want to hide in a corner. Inviting someone to a wedding is more serious than sidling up to a bar. “You don’t know her.”
“Campbell won’t mind. She might do it herself. But I bet Prescott would think about it if you asked.” Durban’s smirk digs under my collar and chafes.
There’s no reason to ask. So it’s not an issue.
Jamison throws the door open. “Hey, guys.” She waves and beelines into the main distillery. Probably to find Iverson.
Campbell holds the door for Prescott. “Welcome to Foster House Gold. Haven can give you a tour later.”
Hell yes, I will. When Prescott lifts her gaze to me, a coppery brow arches, and I grin. “Come on in and make yourself comfortable.”
She slides onto a stool close to the wall. “Aren’t you going to be surprised when I change into pajamas and put my feet up.”
I laugh, grateful to put aside my earlier conversation with Durban. As for him, he spins around in time to catch Campbell as she throws herself into his arms. Prescott’s gaze slips away, avoiding me and the couple next to us.
Yeah, this could get awkward. “This time I get to ask what I can get you.”
Her attention lifts back to me, just where I want it. “I don’t even know where to start. I’m not usually the customer.”
I give her a laminated menu. “These are our cocktails, but you can also sample our spirits with a tasting flight.”
Interest lightens the blue in her eyes, but she shakes her head. “I don’t like getting wasted.”
“Legally, we’re limited in how much we can serve in a tasting room. I can splash just enough for a sip so you get to taste more than drink.”
“Okay. You pick what you think I should try.”
“No Seasoned Virgin?”
Pink dusts her cheeks. “No, something new. ”
From the corner of my eye, Durban gives Campbell a questioning look. She whispers in his ear, but she doesn’t have to strain to do so since she’s practically sitting on his lap.
I dig out two Glencairn glasses, then I retrieve several small plastic medicine cups. “We’ll do two official tastes of whiskey, and then I’ll give you some vodkas to sample.”
After filling a glass of water for her, I find the Butter Barrel and Haven’s Rye.
Prescott cranes her neck to see the bottles. “I’ve already tried Haven’s Rye, or do you just like to give that to everyone and casually drop that it’s named after you?”
My brother snickers.
I ignore him. “No, that’s the Haven Is Awesome whiskey.”
Her laugh rings through the tasting room. Durban gives Campbell an indulgent look.
Campbell moves to a stool next to Prescott. “Durban’s going to make my drink so you can go through the tasting routine.”
My brother uses the jalapeno-infused vodka to make his fiancée a jalapeno orange cream spritzer.
When he sets it in front of Campbell, she steals two straws out of our holder. “Here.” She holds the cup out to Prescott. “This is weak enough it shouldn’t interfere with your tasting.”
She takes a sip, her pink lips wrapping around the straw. I lean forward until Durban clears his throat. I shoot him a look, and he returns it with a knowing one of his own. Was I staring?
She pulls away and licks her lips. “Mm. That’s different. Good, but different.”
The ever-present heat in my gut when I’m around her curls through me. It’s a strange affliction that started when her skirt blew up.
Campbell’s smile is pleased. “Durban came up with that one.”
“It’s not unique, but we try to put our own spin on cocktails,” Durban says.
“Now try the Butter.” Campbell pushes the Glencairn glass closer to Prescott. “It’s a lower proof than Haven’s Rye, and you should work your way up.” She glances at me and puts her hands up. “I’m taking over. Sorry.”
“It’s no problem.” She’s putting Prescott at ease. I don’t do that as well. “You and Jamison practically work here.” I switch my attention back to the redhead. “Remember how to taste?”
Prescott swirls the glass and sniffs it. “Oh.” She sniffs again. “That’s really rich.”
“It’s one of our favorites, and the town loves when Elodie works it into her baking.” I don’t say why, since she hasn’t tasted it yet. I want to witness her discovering the flavor. “Take a small sip and let it coat your tongue. Then take a bigger one.”
She does as I say, and fuck, I like the idea of that. “Oh my gosh, that’s buttery.” She takes another sip. “I could almost like whiskey with this.”
I’ll get her to appreciate whiskey. All I need is time. If she never likes the drink, I’ll just buy everything Elodie makes with our whiskey products. Either way, I’ll get the satisfaction of watching something I made slide past her lips.
I walk her through tasting the rye. She doesn’t dislike it as much as last time. I line up three different vodkas, and she chats with Campbell and Durban.