Page 37 of Whiskey Proposal

An older guy comes up to Lane. “Congrats. I heard the good news. I expected a big shindig like the rest of you Foster House boys had.” He turns his attention to me and shoves his hand out. I take it automatically, and he pumps my arm. “Welcome to Huckleberry Springs. I heard you’re from Denver, but I hope you like it here.”

Ned from the gas station doesn’t recognize me. A weird defensiveness rises. It should be “Welcome back” or “Good to have you back.” I lived in Huckleberry Springs longer than Lane has. Besides, Ned’s daughter was the one who used to make fun of my clothing, and her friend told me my mom probably left because I was boring. “Actually, I’m from here. Emerson Langley. Hutch was my dad.”

All eyes are on us, but I imagine steel running down my spine, lining it, and I lift my chin. I’m not hiding at Lane’s place anymore.

“Oh, the heck.” Recognition fills his eyes. “Little Emerson, yes. My gosh, you look like your mother.”

That’s a slap in the face. “It’s been a while since I heard that.” I lean into Lane, and he anchors his arm around me.

Grinning, Ned leaves, as if his only purpose at the bakery today was to keep the spotlight on me. I brave a look around. People are beaming at us, indulgent expressions on their faces, but not for me. Lane’s some sort of local paragon, and they all love to see him happy and married. Only he’s not really married. Is he happy?

I glance up at him, but his concerned focus is on me. Giving him a small nod, I can’t lie. I am okay. The interaction with Ned isn’t going to be a setback. I won’t let it.

I aim a smile at Elodie and Clem. “What have you two been up to in the last twenty years?”

“Oh, you know. Nothing exciting.” Elodie smiles, but her demeanor closes off, and it’s fascinating. Guess I’m not the only one who’s returned with more to their story. “Except for Dee’s Sweets, of course, and giving in to Cruz.”

“She made him wait five years.” Clem sounds giddy about that, but not about Elodie making Cruz wait. More because a guy was so into her sister that he pursued her for that long.

“To be fair,” Elodie clarifies, “I didn’t know he was truly interested. He can seem like a flirt.”

“What she calls a flirt, I call being nice,” a guy says from behind me. He just walked in, and I blink at him. He’s familiar, but I’ve never met him, yet I know exactly who he is. His dark hair is slightly longer than Lane’s, his blue eyes a touch darker, but his smile has fewer boundaries. “I was flirting with her though, and now she knows it.”

“Just like Lane,” I tease. Where is my playfulness coming from? “Nothing but a flirt.”

Clementine tilts her head like she’s trying to see another Lane superimposed over the man in front of her.

Elodie’s lips quirk like she’s holding back a smirk. “I’ve told Cruz so many times that Lane has to quit being such a flirt or girls around town are going to get the wrong idea.”

If it wasn’t for her dry tone, I might be battling some unwanted jealousy. Who’s Lane been trying to pick up? But from the sounds of it, no one.

“I’ve told him a million times,” Clementine says, a smile dancing on her lips. “But Edna said he almost left bingo night with four phone numbers and two invites to summer homes in Phoenix.”

“It was one phone number to meet someone’s granddaughter at the summer home.” Lane shakes his head. “I said no, by the way. Didn’t know I hired such a smart-ass.” He loosens his hold on me only so he can face me better. “Clem gives tours at the distillery. It’s not enough she’s also a librarian and an author.”

Clementine shrugs. “And I help out here. I’m also tragically single, but I’m too tied to Huckleberry Springs to leave.” She glances at the girl taking orders. “I’d better get back to work. I have the toughest bosses.”

Elodie smirks at her. “I’ll take it out of your tips.” She turns to me. “She gives those to whoever she’s working with.”

“That’s really sweet.” I used to work in a coffee shop when I was in college. My boss emptied the tip jar for herself, but I always respected the manager who watched out for us when she wasn’t there.

Elodie’s shy smile grows. “Cruz and I would like to have you two over. Whenever works for you. No pretenses; just come and catch up.”

Cruz nods, his expression serious. “We’re all family now.”

Shock and recoil are my knee-jerk reactions, but I keep my features smooth. Brooks and Hillary are my only family. I can’t be related to all these people. They don’t know me.

“Just let us know.” Elodie’s tone is reassuring. “Whenever you’re ready. Like I said, no pressure.”

“I like the sound of that.” And I really do. I like it too much.

Lane

Water rains down on me from the six showerheads in my walk-in shower. I can’t turn my thoughts away from Emerson. The hesitant way she entered Dee’s Sweets. How she slowly loosened up. The way she tensed again when Cruz claimed we were all family. That girl breaks my damn heart. Yet it’s not my heart I’m struggling with under the shower’s spray.

My dick stirs, and my imagination goes wild. What if Emerson crept into the bathroom and appeared at the entrance? What if she was naked? What if she wanted me as much as I want her?

An image of her forms in my mind, so easily created since the first time I saw her picture. She’d have high, firm tits and gentle curves down to the flare of her hips. Those long legs would be on full, glorious display, and that pussy—I’d finally get some questions answered. Is it as pretty a pink as I think it is? Would she be soaking wet for me?