Page 95 of The Bourbon Bet
The store phone rings shrilly, the sound penetrating even through the storage room door. The tension leaves her shoulders as she pulls away, which is strange. “I have to get that,” she says, smoothing her shirt. “That could be a supplier I’ve been waiting to hear from.”
“Okay,” I say.
She touches my face gently, and I swear that a flash of what might be guilt crosses her features. Then she’s slipping out of the storage room.
I take a moment to collect myself, adjusting my clothes and trying to cool the heat still coursing through my veins. By the time I leave, she’s already at the counter, phone pressed to her ear.
“What do you mean by ‘unable to process’? The payment cleared from my account last week.” She listens intently, her brows furrowing deeper. “You can’t be serious. That order has to arrive by Thursday for the event.”
She grabs a pen and jots something down. “Give me your supervisor’s direct line. No, I need to speak with them today.” She hangs up and looks at me, distress evident on her face.
“What happened?” I ask.
“This distributor is claiming they never received payment for my derby weekend shipment, despite the money already being taken from my account. If I don’t sort this out immediately, I won’t have books for my biggest sales weekend of the year.”
I take in how her shoulders are tense, and how the stress lines around her eyes have deepened in the few minutes since the call. My confession about the bet can wait.
“Do what you need to do,” I tell her, though relief floods through me and I despise myself for it.
She sighs, tugging at her ponytail. “I swear, it’s always something. First, my mother’s email, now this distributor mess.”
“Can I help with anything?” I offer, more than willing to push aside my inner turmoil.
The tight lines around her eyes relax slightly, and a genuine smile replaces her grimace. “Thanks, but this will require some rather assertive phone calls and possibly contacting my bank. Not that they’ll call me back,” she mutters.
“Why wouldn’t they?”
She shrugs. “No idea. But they and others haven’t been helpful lately.”
I swear to God, if this is Thorne’s doing, I will kill him. No, I’ll make him wish he were dead.
Her thumb brushes lightly over my knuckles, pulling me from my very, very dark thoughts. “I appreciate you listening about my mom. It helped to vent.” She dips her chin and looks at me through her lashes. “The distraction in the storage room also helped.”
I grin. “Anytime.”
She comes from around the counter and hugs me. How in the world does she always smell so damn amazing? My phone vibrates in my jacket pocket. I pull it out and see five missed calls from Hanna and three from my office manager. “I’d better head back to the distillery.”
Stepping back, she runs her hands through her hair, exhaling shakily. “Yeah, and I need to find out about my missing funds. But let me walk you to the door.”
Halfway to the exit, she says, “Cheer me up one last time before you leave.”
I take her hand, tugging her playfully in the direction of the storage room. “Fine,” I groan with exaggeration.
She laughs and looks around at the busier aisles since I first arrived. “I wish,” she sighs. “How about you say something sexy and swoony like one of my book boyfriends?”
“What’s a book boyfriend?” I scoff, though I’m still grinning like a fool.
“You know, the men in romance books.”
“Damn, that’s a high bar.”
“True. But I’m confident you can reach it.”
“Thanks for your belief in me. Having a huge crush on a sexy bookworm probably helps,” I flirt. And the delighted blush on her pretty cheeks makes my day.
At the door, I kiss her lightly on the lips. Someone in the store wolf-whistles, making us laugh. Rosalia looks to where it came from and shakes her head. “You are incorrigible, Mrs. Abernathy.”
I wave bye to them both. Once outside, my earlier worries resurface. The light, playful atmosphere between us had temporarily pushed aside my concerns about the bet with Thorne, but now they’re back. I had my chance to come clean and I let it slip away. My relief at the interruption sickens me, but the fear of losing her entirely terrifies me more.
