3. Brandt
brANDT
Her eyes are the color of Southern Brothers’ Party Mode with strands of green, gold, and a deeper honey brown weaved in.
I can’t help but get lost in them, wanting to dive in head first and go swimming.
There’s something about her drawing me in like a moth to a flame, and I know deep down that I couldn’t walk away if I tried, even though we just met.
I don’t even know her name.
“Where do we start?” I ask, adrenaline pumping through my veins.
“At the beginning, of course,” she answers, as if it were obvious. Grabbing my hand, she leads me over to the Wink & Shine tent, weaving around an older couple talking to a volunteer who is handing them two sample cups. “Wink & Shine, the only shine on the market made for women, by women.”
She hands me a small, red plastic cup, the size of a shot glass, filled with a clear liquid, the distinct scent tickling my nostrils.
I’d know that smell anywhere—it’s fueled many dreams, and been the kick starter for quite a few adventures along the way.
But this time, there’s more to it. Something sweet.
Something light and airy. Consider my curiosity piqued.
“I was thinking maybe names,” I joke. “I’m Br-”
“No,” she cuts me off.
Errr…what?
“I mean, we both know what this is. Right? You’re just passing through and we’ll never see each other after this, so…why not keep it simple? One night only. No names. Just wherever the night and the moonshine lead us.”
Just wherever the night and the moonshine lead us….oh, this girl’s trouble…
My dick twitches, my mind going straight to the gutter with ideas of where the moonshine could take us, but I manage to keep my composure. Barely. Enough that I still come up with something to help me charm her to the point that she might consider letting it lead us that way.
“I have to call you something.”
“Errr, good point.” She looks around, eyes landing on something off in the distance. “Luna.”
“As in the moon, cute. Well, Luna, I’m…Brewer.”
“As in your job.” I shrug. It was as good a choice as any given the situation. She giggles, holding up a mini cup of her own. “Well then, Brewer, to wherever moonshine leads us.”
We toast, and I toss back the taste of Wink & Shine. Smooth, sweet, and with a hint of a familiar twang I can’t place, the high proof liquor goes down easy, hitting almost instantly. Catching me more than a little off guard.
“Oh…wow…”
“Good stuff, huh?”
I nod. It is. Much better than I anticipated. Yes, it’s fruity, and it doesn’t pack as much of a punch as something like Ol’ Reverend, but it’s still good. Clean, crisp. Something that would be wonderfully refreshing on a hot, sticky, Southern summer afternoon.
“Not what I was expecting, I’ll say that.”
“You were expecting all sugar, weren’t you?”
She cocks out one hip, the smug look on her face that she knew exactly what I was thinking making her look even cuter. I want to kiss the smirk right off her.
“Admittedly, yes.”
“That’s what everyone thinks. And that’s not the point of Wink & Shine. Yes, it’s geared toward women, but not the ones who are looking for something sugary and sweet. There’s plenty of that on the market. This offers flavor and fun, while still providing that glorious burn.”
“You sure seem to know a lot about it.”
Luna freezes, eyes doubling in size. Oh, shit. That wasn’t meant to be accusatory. I wanted it to be playful. For her to have a witty comeback about being a connoisseur or something.
“I like to know what I’m drinking, that’s all.” She swallows hard, her nervousness shining through. “Pure, mountain moonshine, based on a recipe that is more than a hundred years old. The way God intended.”
A hundred years…what?!
I step in a bit, partly to be closer to her, but partly to be able to say this quietly. “You wanna check that math?”
Luna tilts her head, taken aback by my question. She doesn’t balk though, simply narrows her eyes at me. “Just what are you implying, Brewer?”
“Only that I’m not buying that a hundred years ago, someone deep in the hills of Tennessee was thinking about making a watermelon-flavored spirit.”
Luna shakes her head, her scrunched expression easing and flowing into a smile. “No, no one was thinking that. But the basis for Wink & Shine is Ol’ Reverend. And that has been around that long.”
Now it’s my turn at being dazed. The stripper shine is based on Ol’ Reverend?
No, don’t call it the stripper shine…that’s what got us in trouble…
I take a minute to digest the revelation.
Now that I really think about it, this all makes sense.
Wink & Shine falls under the Tennessee Trouble umbrella, the brand that owns the whiskey by the same name along with Ol’ Reverend.
Of course the legendary old family recipe was used as the base. How could I not have realized that?
“Ol’ Reverend, just like Tennessee Trouble, wasn’t founded until the 1930s, after prohibition,” I counter, testing her knowledge.
She doesn’t miss a beat. “It’s cute you think that both brands just happened to be created the year prohibition ended.”
I step into her more, locking my gaze with hers and smirking.
Hoping that she’s about to confirm something I’ve suspected since I was a teenager and have never been able to find out anything more on.
A confirmation that will give me a great sense of personal pride.
And maybe a little professional pride as well.
“So, what are you saying?”
Luna stands her ground though, smirking right back at me. “Nothing. Tennessee Trouble and Ol’ Reverend were officially founded in 1932, right here in Trouble, Tennessee.”
Oh…the party line…
“If you say so.”
“I do.” She winks at me, stepping back and letting cool air rush between us. I miss her instantly, and we hadn’t even been touching.
Licking her lips, Luna tucks a piece of her blonde hair behind her ear.
The move is simple and more than likely a reflex, one she doesn’t even realize she’s making.
I’m so caught up in her that it sends sparks through me like a plug in a faulty outlet.
I want nothing more than to reach out and run my fingers through that hair while I press my lips to hers, finding out if the taste of Wink & Shine is still lingering there.
“Ready for more?”
“Absolutely.”
Luna takes my hand, weaving us through the crowd toward the Ol’ Reverend tent.
I follow, trusting that she knows her way around.
As we reach the tent, I watch her closely as she scurries behind the table, grabbing two more little cups identical to the ones before, and fills them up from a jug on the table.
The clear liquid is intriguing, and my mouth waters.
Although, that might also be from the sight of Luna’s backside in her jeans.
“Here.”
I take the cup, sniffing it, trying to savor the aroma before throwing it back.
Much like its predecessor, it’s smooth, but this version packs more of a punch, the signature tang making my taste buds tingle.
It’s fresh, invigorating, and all around fun.
Exactly what this spirit should be. The jolt it gives me is nothing compared to Luna’s smile though—and the look she gives me as she watches me.
“Thoughts?”
“It’s…brilliant. But you know that. Because nothing beats the original.”
There’s no other word for it. Sheer spirit perfection. Which also means I have a confession to make. Something I’m going to have to tell her.
“Lu—”
“Glad you think so.”
“They all that good?” I ask, trying to find a way to work in my secret.
Well, secret might be an overstatement. It’s not like we’ve been married for fifty years and I need to come clean about how I’m really an assassin and have been living under an assumed name.
Nothing like that. Hell, she and I have known each other for less than an hour and we aren’t even calling each other our real names.
Still, I need to tell her.
“No.” Her shoulders sag, as if she were a balloon deflating.
“I would love to tell you that everything here today is as good as our hometown pride, but it’s not.
Hell, this isn’t even our festival. We would never create something as stupid sounding as Leprechauns and Liquor.
That has Midnight Mavericks written all over it. ”
Midnight Mavericks. I almost forgot they were here. With finding Luna and listening to her talk about the real stuff, it was easy to put those guys out of my mind.
“Tell me how you really feel,” I say with a laugh.
“That would be unprofessional.”
I scoff. Who cares about professional at a time like this? Then again, maybe I should be worried about that. Not worrying about it got me sent here. Although, there is a part of me that feels like I’m being rewarded for such behavior with the pretty girl who has landed in my lap.
“Fine, I’ll say if you won’t.” I clear my throat and look her directly in the eye.
“That’s not real ’shine. That’s mass-produced, watered-down nonsense.
They’re sellouts. They’re not in this for the art of it.
They’re in it for the tourists who show up to Pigeon Forge every summer and want to pretend.
They’re in it for the money, having the big store right there on the main drag and all of that.
And you can taste it. You can taste the sellout in their product. ”
Luna’s breath hitches, her whole chest rising and falling, drawing my attention to it. It takes everything in me not to stare. Not to rest my eyes on her breasts.
“I could kiss you,” she mutters.
“Not off the table.”
A pink tinge appears on her cheeks. Pressing her lips together, she looks away, unable to meet my eyes.
Just as quickly, she snaps back, gaze meeting mine, looking like she’s about to spill a secret of her own.
Her hazel eyes light up, sparkling in the late afternoon sun, and the corner of that oh-so-kissable mouth lifts to meet them.
“How do you feel about cherries?”
“Love them.”
“Perfect.”
Grabbing my hand again, she takes a giant step to her left, parking us right next to the Tennessee Trouble tent.
Quickly looking around to make sure no one is watching, she reaches behind the table, producing an unlabeled jar.
I want to know how she knew they were there, but I’m afraid it’ll spoil what we have.
The freedom of the anonymity. Today, questions are better left unasked.
Hand firmly on the top of the jar, Luna struggles for a moment, arm straining as she twists, the lid on tight. Resting it on the table for leverage, she puts all her weight into it, but nothing.
“Here, let me.”
I take it from her, my hand brushing against hers. Lightning strikes at the contact and I damn near drop the jar. I know she feels it too, the soft hitch of her breath filling my ears even over the sound of the crowd bustling around us.
Breathe…
Managing to get the jar open, I hand it back, making sure to touch her again, not wanting to waste the opportunity. She does the same, running her fingers along mine, letting the moment linger.
“Whiskey soaked cherries,” she says, her voice breathy. “These are infused with Tennessee Trouble and then aged in a whiskey barrel for thirty days.”
Luna pulls one out of the jar, passing it to me. This is my chance. I could take it from her with my hand, like a gentleman. Like my mama raised me to be. Or…I could go for it.
Lowering my head, I open my mouth, sticking my tongue out just enough to grab the cherry from her, stem and all.
Luna gasps, eyes going wide, my move catching her off guard.
The flavor of the cherry mixed with the whiskey explodes on my tongue, in the best way possible, and I’m in heaven.
I swallow the fruit, quickly tying up the stem and producing the pretty little loop on my lips.
“Oh, fuck…” Luna mutters, hands quickly clasping over her mouth. Yeah, she didn’t mean to say that out loud. Mission accomplished. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to…”
“Totally fine,” I tell her, closing the gap between us. There’s less than an inch of space between us now, and it’s still too much. But I barely know her and we’re in public, so it’s going to have to stay this way. “I’m just glad you were impressed.”
“Very.”
“Because I have to tell you, your whiskey cherries are damn good. And actually better than my cherry pie ’shine.”
“Your…what?” Luna shakes her head. Stepping back, she gives me a confused look. “You said you brew beer.”
“I do,” I admit. Here goes… “I own a brewery. But my first love, what got me into brewing, is moonshine. My best friend and I had our first taste in high school, of Ol’ Reverend, and that was that.
We snuck out to the woods and built our own secret still.
Been doing it ever since. I still dabble in it on the side for fun. ”
Luna’s confusion morphs into something else. Something I can’t name. But it’s softer and full of hope.
“You…you got into brewing because of Ol’ Reverend?”
I nod. “Yup. Was inspired by the best, not mass-produced shit, and knew that’s what I wanted to do.”
Throwing her head back, Luna bursts into laughter. The sound weaves its way into me, anchoring itself to my heart and taking root. There’s no way I’m ever going to forget that beautiful sound or the way it’s making me feel.
“Brewer,” she says, stepping forward until we’re all but touching. “Do you trust me?”
It’s a loaded question, given the nothing we know about each other. But there’s only one answer. Because deep down, I know.
“Yes.”
“Good. Because I want to show you something. Come with me.”