Fun! Pinky is a hoot. So smart and funny, and Alex is…

  I’m not sure how to finish.

  I almost type determined, driven, wonderful. I suppose those are all things a fiancée would say, but I don’t want to lie again.

  Britt

  He can be intimidating, but don’t sell yourself short. You’re multi-talented! He wouldn’t have hired you if he wasn’t impressed.

  Or if he wasn’t tricked into it, I think, chewing my lip. Except, hadn’t he mentioned the job before I said we were engaged?

  I realize I’ve left Britt hanging, and I quickly text.

  It’s only a month. What then?

  Britt

  Is he paying you well?

  My fingers still. I never even asked how much he’s paying me. I was too anxious to get out of Aunt Carol’s house, and with everything else, it never came up.

  She misinterprets my silence.

  Britt

  NVM—Mrs. Priddy is retiring, and everyone is moving up. They need a K teacher.

  My brow furrows, and while I like the idea…

  I’m not certified.

  Britt

  Do this.

  A link lights up on my phone for an accelerated certification program at the community college in Ridgeland.

  I tap the link and quickly navigate to the tuition page.

  It’s still a lot of money.

  Britt

  You might get a tuition waiver. Need-based, rural community…

  You think?

  Britt

  I do, and you’re great with kids.

  My chest rises, and I feel more in control of my life already. I could actually do this.

  Thanks, Britt.

  Britt

  NP! I want you teaching my kids!

  I imagine her smiling up at me like the bright blonde ray of sunshine she is, and a smile lifts my cheeks. My eyes heat with tears, like a sentimental goose, but I’m really fucking happy.

  It’s a real path that won’t take a million years or cost a million dollars—and I like it a lot! Teaching kindergarten would be the sweetest thing. Of course, it would have its challenges like anything else, but it’s just what I want.

  Tapping on the link, I quickly fill out the application for enrollment. Then I open my email program and begin brainstorming a letter to the school. I’ll get Britt to help me with it.

  The end of the month doesn’t feel so bleak anymore, and it’s like a weight off my shoulders. I do a little dance around the apartment, Sir Mix-a-Lot’s “Baby Got Back” playing in my head, before pulling on a sleep shirt.

  Shuffling over to my desk, I plug the charging cord into my laptop, and my eyes fall on the angel ring sitting in a small dish. I scoop it up and slip it on my finger, holding out my hand to admire it before crawling into bed and tucking it under my chin.

  A woman with a future doesn’t need silly schemes to make herself valuable. But it doesn’t mean I don’t like wearing his ring.

  A woman with a future can also be a little naughty, because nothing is sexier than a woman who knows what she wants.

  CHAPTER 17

  ALEX

  If there’s one thing I know, it’s women are not like distilling the perfect bourbon. You can’t simply do the steps, follow the established rules, and achieve the desired outcome.

  For example, I got one of the worst night’s sleep of my life last night worrying I’d made a critical error with Cass.

  Granted, it’s an error I’d like to make again and again, and she seemed very willing in the moment. Hell, she seemed to be enjoying herself as much as I was. I know for a fact she came twice—I was counting.

  I wanted to do more, but the way she practically ran from my bedroom had my head spinning. What went wrong?

  Consent is very important to me, and I asked her plainly if she wanted to do it. I don’t know why she went from hot to cold so fast. Did I let her down somehow?

  For the next seven hours, I tossed and turned rehashing every word I’d said and searching for my mistake. Not finding it, I spent the next hour preparing my apology.

  Now, I’m here, all ready to fall on my sword when she bounces into the kitchen smiling and even giving me a little wink as she pours her coffee.

  “Morning, boss.” The tease in her tone changes the whole vibe of the room.

  My stomach unknots, and I lean closer to her ear. “I didn’t expect to like the sound of that so much.”

  “Got any orders for me?” Her eyebrow arches, and she has no idea.

  “For starters, have a fun, busy day and wear this little lady out again.”

  My daughter’s at the bar singing as she eats her yogurt and strawberries. I hadn’t been paying much attention, since I’d been worrying about Cass’s appearance.

  Now I realize she’s chanting over and over, “T-A-S-T-E-Y, tasty!”

  “That’s not how you spell tasty.”

  Cass laughs. “It is if you’re Fergalicious.”

  Pinky holds up her jelly toast with two fingers. “So delicious!”

  I’m not following, but Cass is enjoying her performance. Her smile is a huge relief, and I’ve got to get to work. I’ve got a nine o’clock meeting with an old friend in the business, and then I’ve got payback to plan.

  “See you two at five.” My eyes slide over her body one last time.

  Today she’s in beige linen pants and a cropped top that shows off her stomach. It reminds me too much of sliding my hands under her shirt and devouring her breasts. I want to touch her again, so I’d better get out of here before I pop an inappropriate semi.

  “We’ll do something very active.” She lifts her cup, and my ring is on her finger.

  I don’t expect my response to seeing her this way, in my kitchen wearing my ring. For a moment, it’s like I’m looking ahead in time to an idealized version of the future.

  I wish I’d gotten a better night’s sleep. This is what happens when I don’t trust my instincts. They’ve served me pretty damn well up to this point, and they’re telling me this is the girl I’m going to marry.

  “Damn, that is some good-ass whiskey.” Willie “Bender” Cartwright exhales a throaty laugh as he rocks back in his chair at the tasting bar. “You definitely have the gift.”

  Satisfaction warms my chest, and I like to imagine Pop looking down on what I’ve done with the place. “You’re the expert.”

  Even though he’s twenty years older than me, I’ve been close to Bender since I was a kid, since he would stop by and shoot the shit with my dad over bottles of beer on the back porch.

  Fast forward fifteen years, and he’s my biggest fan and best promoter. A legend in the industry, Bender has called more unicorns than anyone can count. He’s the original influencer, and tastemakers listen to what he says.

  Brands are made on his approval alone.

  He was the first one to pronounce our single barrel the best since Pappy van Winkle, and he started the hunt for Stone Cold when I needed all the help I could get. Needless to say, his rough-around-the-edges presence is welcome at our campfire any time, and when he says he’s in town for a visit, I make room on my schedule.

  He takes another sip, clearing his gravelly throat. “Yep. I think this is the best yet.”

  “I felt pretty confident when I tasted it, but your word seals the deal.”

  “I wouldn’t say it if it weren’t true.” He chuckles, lighting a cigar. “Your pop was a genius and one of the few people who’d dump the whole batch in the ditch if he wasn’t satisfied. Couldn’t get him to give it to me.”

  He laughs more, and it’s another reason I cherish Bender’s friendship. So few people are left who remember Pop, and I gravitate to stories that reveal a side of him I never saw. As my grandfather he was wisdom and nostalgia, but with his friends, he was mischievous and fun.

  “I want him to be remembered.” I turn the bottle with his image on the label.

  Bender exhales a thin stream of smoke. “He was proud of you as a kid, and he’d be proud of the man you’ve become.”

  “I appreciate that.”

  “It’s true.” He nods. “And how’s that little spitfire daughter of yours? Last time I saw her, she called me a grumpy old billygoat.”

  My jaw clenches, and I give him a tight smile. “Sorry about that. I can’t keep her away from Aiden’s son and his friends.”

  His laugh is more of a bark, and he slaps a hand on the polished bar as he rises from his chair. “Don’t apologize. She’s not wrong, and I expect she’ll get feistier as she gets older.”

  “She starts kindergarten in the fall. It feels like that time has flown, and yet it felt like it took forever.”

  “The days are long, but the years are fast. I don’t know who said that.” He polishes off the last of the bourbon. “What I do know is we’ve got another unicorn on our hands here. I’ll let Chip know.”

  “Thanks, Ben.”

  Chip Rogers is the publisher of Bourbon Standard, which is the industry bible.

  “Don’t thank me. It’s simply the truth.”

  I follow him past the large, oak barrels that line the interior of the tasting room out the glass doors leading to the porch. His pickup is parked next to my car, and I walk with him to the vehicle.

  “Aiden married that little Bailey girl.” He leans his arm on the door after he opens it. “That was something else about her daddy. I wouldn’t have expected it to play out that way, but I’m glad justice was served. I know that case weighed heavy on Andrew.”

  “We were all pretty shocked, but Britt and her mom were glad to have answers. They’re glad to put it all to rest.”

  “Yeah,” He lifts his chin, looking towards the grassy field. “I was thinking about paying a visit to Gwen, seeing as I’m in the neighborhood and all.”

  My brow arches, and I scratch my jaw. “That’s an interesting idea.”

  “Think so?” He puts a hand on his hip, turning to me. “There was a time not too long ago when it felt like something might happen between us. Wouldn’t be surprised if that time has passed.”

  I confess, I’m having a hard time picturing Gypsy Gwen with Grumpy Billy Goat Bender. Still, I’m not one to crush anybody’s dream.

  “It might not’ve passed. Being alone gets old after a while.”

  He exhales, nodding. “You talking from experience?”

  “Maybe.” Sleeping with Cass woke me up to how long it’s been.

  “What about that?” He angles his cigar at me. “You’re a good-looking man. I’m sure you could find a lady pretty easy.”

  I almost laugh at him turning the tables on me. Instead, I answer honestly. “There might be something in the works. It’s too soon to tell, but it’s promising.”

  “Good.” He climbs into the truck. “You’re too young to put out to pasture.”

  He slams the door, and I shake my head at his ability to fish information right out of me like a still pond on a cloudy day.

  It’s been a while since I’ve been fishing.

  Making a mental note, I head back to my office to see what I can do about this gauntlet that’s been thrown. Brazilian Butt Lift, my ass. That girl is asking for it.

  Hopping on Amazon, I spend several minutes searching, until I find the perfect thing. Clicking on expedited shipping, it should be here tonight.

  I lean back in my chair, satisfied when my phone buzzes on the desk. Aiden is texting our brothers group chat.

  Aiden

  What’s this bullshit about developing the land around Stone Cold?

  I tap a quick reply.

  You’re supposed to be on your honeymoon.

  Adam is right behind me.

  Adam

  Get back to your wife. Nothing’s going to change in a week.

  Aiden

  I am with my wife.

  Aiden’s surly tone comes through even in text form.

  Aiden

  We’re at the courthouse, and Drake Redford is canvassing town square.

  Leaning forward, I run my hand over my mouth.

  How so?

  Aiden

  Collecting signatures. He can drag it to the town council, but we’re not fucking with that land. Go to the Disney resort in Hilton Head, asshole.

  I couldn’t agree more.

  They can’t force anything.

  Gray dots float, and I wait to see who has something to say. I don’t know if it’ll be Adam or Aiden, but I know if the three of us are in agreement, nothing’s going to change.

  Aiden

  Britt says he makes a good case. Says if it’ll help us, if they keep it small, it could work.

  Fuck me.

  Let’s talk about this in person.

  It’s as far as I’ll go.

  If the impetus is to capitalize on the brand of Stone Cold distillery, we don’t need it. Hell, I can barely keep up with demand as it is. I’m adding barrels every day, and it’ll still take at least four years to cross the country.

  Once Ben talks to Chip, the demand will get even more punishing. We could be looking at prices approaching several hundreds for a bottle, simply because we can’t make it fast enough.

  However, if Britt thinks it could help the town, I’d be willing to hear her thought process. If it were me, I’d say no. Hilton Head and Kiawah are practically unlivable at peak times of the year, and I don’t want that here.

  It’s very Not in my backyard, and I don’t care. Sue me.

  Adam?

  I send the text mostly to take the temperature of the room.

  I’m pretty confident I’m right, but I don’t like to presuppose.

  Adam

  Your daughter’s a scratch baseball player

  Frowning at my phone, my thumbs move quickly.

  What are you talking about?

  Adam

  Come to the ball field and you’ll see.

  Pocketing my phone, I wave at the bartenders opening the tasting room on my way out the door. At four and a half, Pinky’s old enough for T-ball, but she does like to keep up with her cousin.

  By the time I make it into town, a cluster of older residents has formed around the gazebo in the square in front of the courthouse. I park in an empty space across from the Star Parlor, just as Gwen walks out in her usual tarot-reading attire.

  Today she’s in a floor-length, black, white, and pink caftan with gold bracelets down her long arms and a scarf tied around her billowy blonde hair. Hesitating, I try to picture her with my wizened old friend with his cowboy boots and cigars.

  Her first husband was an escape artist, and as far as I know, Bender’s only talent is spotting a good bourbon, which I care about greatly. Not so sure he’s exciting enough for her.

  “My daughter is supposed to be on her honeymoon.” Gwen crosses the street to where I’m standing, surrounding me in the scent of patchouli.

  “Looks like they got cabin fever.”

  We walk to the gazebo where Aiden is standing with his hands on his hips and a scowl on his face behind Britt. She’s at the head of the small group of residents, and she’s interrogating Drake like it’s headline news.

  I glance around, and of course, Piper is right beside her, recording it all on her phone.

  “How would a development like this affect property values?” Britt sounds pretty informed.

  “I expect they’d go up as the location becomes more desirable.” Drake is ready.

  “Which means taxes would go up as well,” she finishes, and the small group emits a collective groan.

  Good one, Britt. I don’t say it out loud, because I’m not sure where she’s going with this.

  “South Carolina still has some of the lowest property taxes in the nation,” Drake counters. “And any increase would support the schools.”

  My eyes narrow. Drake Redford doesn’t live in Eureka, he’s not married, and he doesn’t have any kids. Like he cares about the schools.

  I’m about to say as much when Gwen holds up her hand like she’s in class. Her bracelets fall down her arm with a clink. “How much would it increase traffic on Main Street?”

  Again, I frown, considering her business is located on Main Street, and it’s possible an increase in traffic might be good for her. Not that she needs it from what I understand.

  “We could build access roads around the town square out to the resort. Tourists would be encouraged to walk or bike here and not destroy the existing atmosphere.”

  “In this heat?” Terra Belle’s shriekey voice pipes up from behind the gazebo, and I see her approaching with her sister Liberty. “Nobody’s going to walk from that distillery to town. It’s two miles!”

  “How much is it going to increase crime in Eureka?” Liberty is as fussy as her sister, and I exhale a laugh.

  Those two will shut Drake down pretty fast. Aiden catches my eye, and I lift my chin, pointing across the street in the direction of the ball field. He nods in response, and I leave him to it.

  I’m ready to see my daughter and my future wife. Even if it is fake, I like the sound of it. Strolling up to the field, I notice a small, white board attached to the chain-link fence reading, Dreams do come true.

  Interesting choice for a baseball field.