“There are times,” he says reluctantly, “when I’m aware that my footing isn’t exactly equal.”
“Have you told them it’s important to you?”
His brow furrows. “There are five of us, six if you count Myles, and we work well together. Their caution is warranted. This space is meant to play, but we have to be smart about it, or we’ll go in the red. Ready to go?”
I give my head a quick shake. Message received. Conversation over. “I can drive.”
“We’ll take my truck.”
He rounds the bar and strides out the door. I follow his infuriatingly wide shoulders all the way out of the bar. He’s so hot and cold. Mercurial. “I get better gas mileage.”
“Most definitely.”
I hit the unlock button on my fob. The clouds are giving us a reprieve from the rain. “I invited you. I’m driving.”
I start to veer toward my car, parked across the lot from him, but he spins around and blocks my path.
“Driving will distract me.” His jaw is hard, and his gaze sweeps around us.
“From what?”
“From not getting to hear you come for the last few days when I fully expected to find out for myself how wet you get.”
My mouth drops open, and fire blazes over my skin. That was unexpected. “I can’t get a read on you.” My body’s humming, but there’s a whirlwind in my head. “You can be a very confusing man.”
“As long as you remember that around you, I’m all man.”
More lust pumps into my veins. My skin is too tight, a vault, and only he has the key to open it. Then clarity washes cold through me just as a raindrop splatters my nose. I wipe it off. “That’s right. You haven’t gotten laid in a while.”
“No, but what does that have to do with our arrangement?”
Arrangement. My heart twists just a little. “It explains why you have wild swings. One minute, you’re a stone. And the next, you’re talking dirty. Sort of.”
“I can talk dirty.”
Another raindrop hits my forehead. “It’s been a while. You might have to brush up on it. What were they saying the last time you were with a woman? ‘Show me your totally tubular tits’?”
His eyes flare wide, then he chortles. “I’m not that old. Maybe more like ‘chillax and come for me.’”
“Ha! What decade is that from?”
He groans and starts for his truck again. “The nineties, and my dad liked to unwind with TV shows.”
He opens the door for me.
“What shows?” I ask as I climb in.
“Anything.” He shuts the door and goes around to the other side.
He leaves town on a road I don’t normally take. Our ranch is on the other side of Huckleberry Springs in one direction, and the distillery and Hennessy land is on the other. Sy’s Water Adventures are on the other side of town.
As he drives, signs point us toward the river site for the midriver adventures. I’ve gone white water rafting afew times in my life, a couple of river floats even more, but I’ve never used Bryce’s family business. His mom used to run it, and she wasn’t as safety conscious in those days. Two lawsuits later, the company was turned over to Bryce. He’s not someone I wanted to date, but he’s at least more safety conscious.
As Durban drives, I send messages to both Stanford and January about when they want to have a tasting.
Stanford: Tomorrow afternoon. It’s supposed to rain again.
I checked the forecast. Cloudy with a twenty percent chance of showers. That isn’t exactly worth canceling the archery event Daddy has set up. Now I’ll have to reschedule that, which isn’t a big deal since the Baldwins are currently the only guests, but there’ll be some rearranging with staff.
