Page 38 of Whiskey Darling
Chapter Fifteen
Flynn
“Got it bad, don’t you?”Sawyer inquires nonchalantly.
I don’t even try playing it off like I don’t know what he’s talking about.
“Fuck off, Rush,” I grunt. “It’s none of your damn business.”
The man has the audacity to grin at me. “Yeah, probably not. But Flynn, you gotta admit, I hired the right person for the job, didn’t I?”
I’m silent, refusing to be drawn into his argument, but Sawyer merrily continues.
“You know, that rule we put in place can be revoked, especially under these circumstances. It’s romantic as hell that you’ve accidentally fallen in love with our new ambassador. About time, too. You’ve shut yourself out from life for too long, my friend.”
“Shut up, will ya?” I don’t deny being in love with Allie. How can I when I don’t know for certain if I am or not?
Following that first weekend, we kept our distance from each other for an entire week. It was the most miserable five days of my life. Goddamn if I wasn’tlongingfor her. Every day after work, Allie holed up in the cottage while I paced the darkened terraces and the dimly lit rooms of my house. I barely slept, discovering I needed her warm body pressed against me to find slumber.
When the following weekend rolled around, the estate gates had barely clanged shut before I was on the steps of the little cottage. I burst through the door when Allie cracked it open. My heart nearly stopped at the sight of her clad in nothing but my L.A. Guns t-shirt and a pair of electric blue knee socks.
She welcomed me with a cry of delight, wrapping herself around me while I kissed her like I needed her breath in my lungs to exist. We made love with frenzied tenderness against the foyer wall. Then a second time with exquisite slowness on her bed.
The rest of that weekend, and the one that followed, was a discovery of each other.
Allie loves pancakes. And crazy colored knee socks on her feet at night. She sings off-key in the shower and shampoos her hair before washing her body. Her toes are painted pale pink, and she giggles uncontrollably if I tickle the soft skin behind her knees. She’s fiercely loyal to those she loves and her job. Cheesy eighties rock bands are her weakness, which explains why she’s borrowed a few of my old t-shirts.
And she loves when I make grilled cheese sandwiches. She sits on the barstool in my kitchen, chin propped in her hand, watching me with the strangest expression on her face, green eyes soft with something I can’t identify.
It’s all been perfect with one exception last weekend.
We’d just finished watching a movie in the den. Draped across my bare chest, Allie swirled a finger around my nipples until I laughed and grabbed her hand.
“Must I tickle you again?”
“Don’t you dare,” she replied lazily. “I can’t defend myself at the moment.” She was quiet for a long moment then said softly, “Flynn? When this is over, can we still be friends?”
I spoke without thinking. Without hesitation. “Of course.”
Allie sighed in relief. “Good. I… I hoped you would say that. The thought we might hate each other is painful. I don’t think I could bear it, now that you’ve become so special to me.”
My heart nearly pounded out of my chest. Stay friends but never kiss her again? Never make love to her? How would I survive such an impossible scenario? It was beyond comprehension to imagine my world without her in it. If we were not a couple, she’d be free to move on.
How could I face a future, potential boyfriend without punching the fucker square in the face?
Allie kissed my chin. “I don’t want to lose you as a friend. Regardless of what happens.”
“You won’t, Allie,” I swore, flipping her so she was pressed against the sofa cushions. Trapping her hands in mine, twining our fingers together, I made that impossible promise again. “You won’t lose me. Ever.”
Sawyer pulls his feet off the coffee table with a grin, dragging me back to the present.
“Flynn, if you think your feelings for each other are a secret, think again. It’s so obvious. No need hiding it. Good God, why would you?” He watches as I sip from a bottle of water. “Allie is amazing, and you are a lucky man. Your mom’s gonna adore her.”
I don’t mention I already told my mother about Allie. Said I’m seeing someone amazing. That it’s serious. In typical fashion, Mom cried with happiness then began making immediate plans to come home from Europe.
The Caramel Cove Craft Distillery Exposition is tomorrow, and when it’s over, I’m telling Allie Darling what I feel for her. The fear of opening my heart, of losing someone dear and the associated heartache, pales in comparison to the thought of my life without her. I don’t know if it’s love, but I know she belongs with me.
I hope she feels the same. The way she holds me when we make love, letting me do anything I want, eagerly learning what pleases me, is intoxicating. Remembering how she takes all of me in without hesitation, as if I’m the finest of whiskeys, has the nerve endings in my body tingling in a way only she can soothe.
