Page 98 of Whiskey Proposal

She laughs and reads the message again. “Why’s she inviting me?”

“You must’ve made an impression on her.”

“I haven’t talked to her since the night we were there.”

“She’s fairly new to town too, and . . . you’re one of us.”

The emotions that ripple over her features tear my world down. I said something so simple, and her struggle to process it is taking place in full view. “That’s not— I’m not . . . We’re not friends.”

“That’s how you make friends.” I hold my glass up and make a half circle. “I got none of this on my own. You say I’m responsible, but I’m trying to keep earning what I have. This job? My house? The tools my dad stole so I could become a mechanic? Nothing would’ve happened without knowing someone.”

“It’s not that.” The lightness from the last few minutes is gone.

“You’re scared?”

“I’m leaving in less than a month.”

Goddammit, no she’s not. But she’ll figure that out. Eventually. “Just go. Have fun. You’re not the one marrying Prescott.”

The corner of her mouth tips up. “I’m being dramatic. You’d think I’ve never been invited to a party.”

“I think you haven’t had enough genuine people in your life. You don’t trust anyone.”

Her brows crash together.

She’s getting in her head, and this weekend isn’t about that. It’s about us, and how well we go together. How good this is between us. She’s not tied to Huckleberry Springs just because she’s with me.

“Do you have the list of chicken facts your niece sent you?” She told me about them when we were back in our seats for the landing.

Her frown turns to a scowl. “I don’t need facts right now.”

She’s shutting down harder. I pick my phone off the end table and do a search. “Did you know the typical female orgasm can last two to eight times longer than a male orgasm?”

She smashes her lips together, fighting a smile. “Stop it. I’m not getting too emotional.”

“You’re still worrying about the bachelorette party, so I’ll spout facts until you respond.”

“What if I say no?”

She’d only give that answer out of fear. “Did you know that both external and internal orgasms result from clitoral stimulation?”

Laughter sputters from her. “You have got to stop it, or I’m going to hear you recite that while I’m coming.”

“Meditation can help a woman reach orgasm.”

She presses her lips together and glares at me, but there’s no hostility in her eyes. She sits up, crosses her legs, and puts her forearms on her knees. Closing her eyes, she hums.

“See? That’s increased your chances of coming again tonight one hundred percent.”

Peals of laughter leave her, and I grin. Her joy is contagious. I just hope the way I feel about her is catching too.

“You gonna say yes?”

She rolls her eyes, but her smile stays in place. “Fine.” She taps out a message and shows me.

Emerson: I’d love to join you.

“That’s my girl.” I scoot closer and unhook her overalls. In a few seconds, she’s topless, her teardrop tits begging for my mouth.