Page 49

I take a few steps toward my secluded corner of the ranch, then stop. The light in the tasting room is on. From where I stand, I can hear the frenetic pump of music blasting. Who the fuck is throwing a goddamn party?

Hand going to the gun on my hip, I backtrack, stomping up the patio and through the tasting room’s front door.

Delilah stares down at a long roll of paper unfurled across the bar top. A pen dangles from the corner of her mouth before she captures it in her hand to scribble something on the paper.

Her soft voice floats as she leans across the bar to turn down the music. “Come to check up on me, Cole Weston?” She doesn’t look up.

I sigh. There’s no escaping her.

“You had a long day,” I grunt. “Should be in bed.”

“I can’t sleep. My schedule’s all off.” She shuffles her bare feet over the wood planks. She’s in a long flannel shirt that ends at her thighs, barely covering whatever she has on underneath. Damn. She’s got some legs on her, tan and toned. My hands itch to run over them.

“Thought I’d come here and do a little party planning.” When she glances up, her amber eyes shimmer in the dim light. “Your brother gave me a job. And I happen to take that very seriously.” Her eyebrow arches. “The most important part of any party is the music.”

“Not your music.”

“Then help me plan it, since you’re so picky.”

“I’m not picky.” My voice hardens. “I just have good taste.”

“So smug.” She laughs aloud.

“If you’re looking for live music, there’s a band in town who might work. The Moonshiners.” I clear my throat, shove my hands in my pockets. “They’re local. Play the music Tempest likes.”

I’m not prepared for the beam of a smile she flashes my way.

“That helps a lot, Cole. Thanks.” She makes a note in her notebook.

As I get closer, I see that she has blueprints to the distillery and surrounding grounds. “What’s the plan with those?” I stand beside her at the bar.

She wrinkles her nose and traces a finger along the perimeter of the patio and field. “I want to map out where everything is happening. Then start booking and ordering.” She bites her lip, uncertainty showing on her pretty face. “I think.”

“You ever do anything like this before?”

“No. Have you?” Her question is earnest.

She’s got me there.

“What have you done before?” She runs a hand through her long blond hair. “You know, for past launches?”

“Not sure.” I tilt up my hat, swallowing against the guilt in my throat. The reminder that I haven’t been back for any launches, content to let my brothers handle all of it themselves. “Just follow Ezra’s lead, and you’ll be fine.”

“A show of faith.” She bats long, dark lashes. “I’m touched.” With that, she begins to roll up the blueprints and pack up her bag.

I don’t want to be impressed with her, but I am. Her planning the launch party is a risk. To my head and to my cock. She’ll be around the distillery, around me, more than normal. All the goddamn time. Distance kept won’t be easy. Not with this girl around.

I stomp toward the door, intending to leave her, then stop. Something won’t let me. I tell myself it’s the cowboy in me.

After a hesitant moment of silence, I say, “I’ll walk you back.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“Goin’ that direction anyway,” I gruff. “Besides, you shouldn’t wander alone.” If my aunt were awake and walking alone at night, I’d give her shit too.

“Why?” She tucks the blueprints beneath her arm, and together we step outside to make the fifteen-minute walk back to the ranch side of the property. The summer night air is crisp. A thousand glittering stars fill the sky. Fuzzy dandelion seed heads sway in the breeze. Delilah, walking beside me with light footsteps and a graceful gait, is so close I can smell her honeyed scent.

Even just the outline of her silhouette in the moonlight makes me hard.