The crowd parts as he steps down from the stage, and people start talking all at once again.
Ian reaches me. His eyes are warm. He’s a little flushed from the speech. Smelling faintly like oak and spice and something unfairly appealing.
“How did I do?” he asks.
“You finished strong. For a minute there I was worried the messaging was wrong but you recovered.”
“What messaging was that?”
“That you were backing me. That’s a dangerous proposition when it’s my dog who destroyed the infamous caramel bourbon blondies.” I smile at him. “And you know, the woman you kissed.”
“I was defending the judging process.” Ian rubs a hand over the back of his neck.
“Is that all?” I’m not even offended because I know he was. But I also firmly believe he was defending me. He can’t convince me otherwise.
“No.” He folds his arms, expression firm in that very attractive, very serious way.
“You won,” he says. “Fair and square.” His mouth twitches slightly. “Second place.”
That makes me laugh. “I don’t doubt that. But I practically caused a riot.”
“That happens at this festival.”
One of the female judges approaches. “Those bourbon balls are to die for Winnie. You used Four Brothers small batch, didn’t you? The oak just complements the cocoa so well.”
“I…”
That’s when it hits me.
I probably used a very expensive bourbon in my recipe.
And Ian didn’t say anything. He just walked me and my bourbon balls to the festival.
I am so having sex with Ian Lennox.
“I did,” I tell her. I glance over at Ian. “Compliments of Four Brothers’ master distiller.”
Chapter Nine
Ian
Normally, after a day like I’ve had today, inundated with chatter and complaints or pats on the back depending on the person, I would be more than ready to slip away unnoticed and retreat to my house.
Alone.
But tonight, as the Spring Fling winds down as the sun goes down, being alone is the last thing on my mind.
Instead, all I can think about is Winnie.
I want to hear everything she has to say, absorb all of her brightness and hope.
And I want to touch every inch of her, kissing her and tasting her deeply, intimately.
The temperatures are dropping rapidly as Winnie collects the empty plastic container. Her bourbon balls were passed around after the judging and everyone agreed they were a strong contender against Bettie.
“You have a real talent,” Lucy had told her.
“A hidden talent because I had no idea I was any good at it,” Winnie had replied cheerfully.
