Page 18 of Whirlwind

We entered and that classic, familiar sweet and yeasty baked goodness greeted us as we moved through the back of the Grand. Mom’s work. Her discipline and talent. Her love for her family and her town. I quickly tapped out the security code on the alarm key pad as the aroma of roasted coffee took over, melting the tension in my body.

“Oh, man, that’s an amazing smell.” Beck’s voice was warm and relaxed, and I glanced over at him. A soft grin had washed over his handsome features, making him even more good looking, if that were possible. My pulse skipped a beat at the sight.

“I never get tired of it.”

“I wouldn’t either,” he murmured, the warm grin deepening into something sexier. My lungs squeezed together. His gorgeousness close up was still a remarkable thing. Even better, now because the sweet boy next door of five years ago had gone devil may care rogue. Throw in the lone small hoop earring he wore, the scruff, the messy hair, the bruising on his face…yum.

I flipped on the lights as we walked through the stockroom and into the commercial kitchen. From a cupboard I grabbed the bottle of pain killers and the band-aids. I got him a bottle of water from the fridge and handed him two caplets.

He popped them in his mouth. “Thanks.”

As I filled a thick plastic baggie with big ice cubes, he gulped at the water. Purples, reds, and blues crept along the etched plain of his cheekbone up toward his eye where a small cut bled.

“Shit, I cut you.” Jesus, I’d ruined the face of one of the hottest guys in rock and roll. I dashed back to the cupboard and grabbed a bottle of hydrogen peroxide and cotton swabs. “Take a seat.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He hopped up on a barstool, and I got to work dabbing the gash. “Beck, I’m so sorry. This is horrible.”

“It was an accident, Violet,” he said softly, his breath fanning my face.

“I was aiming for this idiot who was groping me.” I placed the baggie against his swollen cheek, and my fingertips brushed the rough stubble on his face. I swallowed hard. He was definitely all grown-up now. Less the baby-faced cutie I remembered, and more sexy in an edgy, bad boy way. “Does it sting?”

“I’ll live.” Our hands brushed as he took hold of the ice bag on his cheek.

Damn.Up close his eyes were still breathtaking as ever. Turquoise with hints of crystal bright. I went back to the cupboard and found the precious bottle in the back of the shelf. “We need this.” I held the bottle of bourbon for him to see along with two tin cups.

“What is it?”

“Tennessee bourbon. Good for all that ails you. Trust me, I know.”

“Lay it on me.”

I poured out two shots and handed him one.

“Nice cups.” He checked out the old pic of a buffalo on his cup and Mt. Rushmore on mine.

“They’re vintage Black Hills souvenirs from the General Store my mom’s family once owned here in town.”

He clinked my cup with his, and his spectacular eyes remained on mine as we downed our shots. He swallowed, and those eyes enlarged.

I grinned. “Good?”

“So fucking good.”

“Hmm. One side of my mom’s family was originally from Tennessee, and there has always been a bottle of this baby at our house. It never fails you, in good times or bad.” I poured more into our cups and took another swig. Fiery caramel that had been my comfort and courage for years filled my mouth and burned down my throat. “I’m sorry I ruined your night out with Wes.”

Beck licked his full lips. “You saved me, Violet. I didn’t really want to go out, let alone to a strip club. But I haven’t seen him since I got here a few days ago, and he’s been worried about me.”

“That’s Wes.”

“Yep. I figured I’d try, but it wasn’t in me. I’ll make it up to him tomorrow.” He drained his cup. “Why were you at a strip joint drinking alone?”

“I got there early. I was waiting for Wes.”

“Violet. Why were you at a strip joint drinking alone?”

“Guess.” My tongue swiped at the corner of my mouth and his gaze darted to the movement. “Take a stab.”

“Bored?”

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