When the whisky touched Adele’s tongue, she closed her eyes and held it there a moment, swishing it lightly around her mouth and letting all the different tastes register before she swallowed. She liked the taste of whisky, the spicy smoothness of it, the balance of the oak and the vanilla. Anything they’d drunk overseas had been cheap, but she’d tasted good blends as well. Guillaume often brought home bottles to sample. The one she was tasting now was excellent. When at last she swallowed, she savoured the burn as it washed down her throat. Just enough peat, but not too much. What was that last teasing flavour? She opened her eyes and discovered Jerry watching her, studying her reaction.
“Citrus?” she asked quietly, making him grin with appreciation. “It’s delicious, Jerry.”
A few moments later, Jerry gently tapped his foot on Adele’s under the table. “You may not remember this,” he said, “but I promised you a dance once upon a time.”
“I never forgot that.”
When she took his hand, her skin buzzed at the touch. He’d waited for a nice, slow waltz, and when they reached the dance floor, she felt the gentle pressure of his hand at the base of her spine, then the subtle tightening as he brought her closer, and she understood. Just as she’d longed for this moment, so had he.
“You know, I’ve tasted your whisky before,” she said, gazing up at him.
“Oh?”
“Guillaume brought some home the other day. Bailey Brothers’ Best. It wasn’t too much of a leap to figure out it was yours. It’s very good, Jerry.”
“It’s our father’s recipe. We just play with it a bit.”
“I have a question about it.”
He tilted his head, curious. “About the whisky?”
“Sort of. It’s more about the label.”
She didn’t miss the way colour flooded his cheeks in that moment, and she loved it, because she thought she knew what it meant.
“There’s a little bird in the corner,” she said. “Why?”
“I think you know.”
“Tell me.”
He paused, gazing into her eyes in the most mesmerizing way. She didn’t think he even knew he was doing it. She thought he was trying to read her, to make sure he could say out loud what he was thinking.
“Did you know that bluebirds are a symbol of happiness and good health?” he asked in a low voice. “I read that somewhere, and it rang true to me. You started with the health part, but ever since I met you, I’ve never felt happier. That’s what you’ve given me.” He took a breath. “So yes. It’s a bluebird on the label, Adele. It’s for you. It’s all for you.”
Goose bumps rose all over her body. She’d never heard anything so beautiful. “You changed my life, Jerry. You brought the best part of me alive. I feel like… I feel like I’m whole when I’m near you.”
She could feel the pull between them, the physical need to get even closer. Her gaze flicked to his lips then back to those hypnotic eyes, partly shaded by his long dark lashes, and she knew beyond any question that she needed him in her life for all time. This was the man she had always needed. The one she would always love.
It didn’t matter what the orchestra played. She had no idea if anyone else was still in the building. It was just the two of them, holding each other, and that was all that mattered.
Then someone bumped into Jerry, his hand raised in a quick apology, and they realized they were standing still in the middle of the dance floor. The music had switched tempo, and the people around them were bluffing their way through a new dance craze she’d heard of, called the Charleston.
“Let’s get out of here,” he murmured into her ear.
Their plates of chicken were waiting for them when they returned to the table, and despite the roast beef dinner of a couple of hours ago, both men dug in. Adele watched them a moment, not yet hungry. Her whole being still sparkling from the dance floor.
“You ladies have to at least try the mashed potatoes,” John insisted. “This place is famous for them.”
Marie obliged, and her eyes widened. “These are delicious.” She migrated to the chicken, and to the beans at the side. “Adele, you have to taste this.”
Adele had a bite of chicken, then she glanced at her sister with a new thought. “I have something you need to try too,” she said, placing her glass of whisky in front of Marie.
Marie studied it dubiously. “Whisky? Will I like it?”
Adele could see Jerry watching her from the corner of her eye. “I hope so.”
“All right.” She sniffed, wincing slightly at the fumes, then she took a sip. They all watched her taste then swallow it, silent with anticipation. “Not bad.”
