Page 4 of A Little Twist

My heart squeezes in my chest, and heat rushes from my stomach to my groin. Her lips are so soft, and her small breasts press against my chest. My teenage dick is at it again, and I’m trying to decide whether to push it down or wrap my arms around her waist and pull her closer.

Before I can do either, she’s gone, running at top speed to where a bike is parked by the path. She jumps on it and pedals away as fast as she can.

She leaves me hot all over. The water ripples behind me, and I’m fighting my second boner in less than thirty minutes—both because of the same girl.

My head is dizzy, and all I can think is one thing: I never want to befriendswith Cassidy Dixon. Not ever.

CHAPTER1

ALEX

PRESENT DAY

“Hold her, Alex!” Aiden splashes into the ditch where I’m kneeling, wire cutters in hand.

I’m on my knees clutching a pig the size of a bloodhound, her head scrubbing against my stomach as she struggles to escape, and I lift my chin as he feels around in the dark brown sludge behind the squirming animal.

“It’s okay, Myrtle. We’ve got you.” The stench sends a hot surge of bile into my throat, and I do my best to keep calm even as she grinds her muddy snout through my dress shirt to my skin.

“Oh, Myrtle!” Holly Newton, Myrtle’s owner, cries from the sidewalk above us. “My sweet piggy! How did this happen?”

The panic in her voice is not helping calm the animal, but I exhale slowly, doing my best to hold on.

Aiden is working fast, his brow furrowed and his jaw set. I imagine as sheriff of our small town he’s used to dealing with this kind of thing.

As soon as he left the Marines, he came back and took over our late dad’s old job, and it suits his no-nonsense, hands in the dirt, man-of-few-words persona.

As CEO of Stone Cold distillery, producer of the world-renowned Stone Cold original single barrel bourbon, the best single-batch bourbon since Blanton’s, I prefer cleaner work.

I spend my days talking to influencers and journalists, carefully crafting fine whiskeys and then helping the people who matter see it’s the best on the market. I don’t wear a suit to work every day, but I don’t mind the days when I do.

Days like today, unfortunately.

While my brother is wearing a thick, canvas uniform and heavy boots similar to what we wore in basic training, I’m in Armani and Italian leather loafers—all of which are now ruined.

How the fuck did I wind up in this ditch covered in mud, bear-hugging a pig?

I blame myself.

It’s a lovely summer’s day, and I decided to swing by the courthouse after meeting with our accountant to share the mid-year numbers with Aiden.

Besides fishing, Pop taught me how he made his special recipe bourbon in the old distillery he inherited from his father. It’s a long, slow process that requires patience and attention to detail, which suitsmypersona.

When I left the Navy, I turned Pop’s hobby into a full-time business with our mom, Aiden, and Adam as investors. Stone Cold has had a series ofverygood years, making us millionaires several times over, and it’s poised to go even higher.

I’m pretty proud of what we’ve accomplished in such a short time, but as usual, Aiden simply nods and leaves the business side of things to me.

Our conversation had just drifted to his upcoming wedding, which will be held in our new event space behind the distillery next month, when the call came through that Myrtle, the town’s award-winning pig, had escaped her pen and was running down Main Street in a panic and squealing.

As Aiden’s sole dispatcher, Holly went into a total meltdown. His one deputy was out of the office—getting Krispy Kreme donuts, no doubt—so without hesitation, my brother grabbed me to help him capture the rogue pig.

Which brings me here, waist-deep in sewage, clinging to Myrtle, and trying not to imagine what else is swimming around in this sludge with us.

“Next time you’re coming to me,” I grunt, tightening my hold on the squirming animal.

My brother’s jaw clenches as he fishes shoulder-deep in the water beneath the pig’s ass. A sharp snap of wire cutting, and he quickly rises, pulling away. “Watch out—she’s loose.”

Myrtle bucks hard against my grip, and I release her, holding my arms in the air as Aiden shoves her rear to help her climb out of the pit.

---