Page 16 of Whiskey Proposal

How did she and my brother do in Hutch’s place last night? When Brooks returned from town, he had Chinese takeout, and we ate outside, where I could ignore Lane.

I’m being more than a little unfair to the handsome distiller. Rancher? Cowboy distiller? Regardless, I can’t imagine finding someone like that, and he probably considered Hutch a friend. My own baggage doesn’t compare, but I lashed out anyway.

Squaring my shoulders, I face the door. I just have to get through a few weeks. Two months, give or take. Please don’t be more. But I can be civil.

When I leave the room, the smell of something delicious teases my nose. My stomach rumbles as if I didn’t pack down an ungodly amount of lo mein yesterday. I’m intrigued and dismayed. He’s here.

I stop when I see him in the kitchen. He’s wearing a black polo shirt with a yellow Foster House logo on the chest and blue jeans. My shoes aren’t an issue. The maple hardwood floor can handle a little shoe traffic if he’s okay with his cowboy boots on. He’s more than okay with those on.

Could I wake up to this every day?

When he lifts his gaze from the stove, a slow, rolling wave of desire passes through every vessel in my body. He has no business looking that good at eight in the morning.

“Don’t you have to work?” I ask, irritated about everything. The trust. This beautiful house. That gorgeous man.

“I’ll head there soon. Hungry?” His tone makes it clear he’s offering more than just food. Like an apology. I haven’t forgotten what he said about Hutch, but the more I think about it, the more I seem like the asshole in that situation.

I never asked who found Hutch, much less thought about how it affected them. No, Lane was owed that outburst.

“I can find something.” I twist my hands together before I hug myself. He slides eggs from the pan next to a pile of sausage on a plate. My stomach growls, and I press my hands into my gut. “I’ll grab groceries today so I don’t eat your food.”

“I don’t mind. Cooking for two isn’t that much more.”

He told me about taking care of Cruz growing up, but a green flare of jealousy still sparks. “You get married for a few months here and there a lot?”

The hint of a smile returns. Does he realize he holds back a lot? When we talked in his office and he loosened up, his grin could incinerate panties. It very nearly did that night. But that’s been the only time I’ve seen it.

“So far, just the once.”

“Don’t recommend it.” I limp toward the table. “What time did you wake up anyway?”

“An hour and a half ago to do chores. What’s wrong with your legs?”

Gingerly, I sit and kick an ankle to my knee to rub my calf. I dig in, but it’d be better if I had a roller. That’s one of the few useful things left in my apartment. I wince when I hit a knot. “It happens sometimes when I wear heels too long.”

“You don’t run around with ecstatic Australian shepherds in stilettos often?”

My leg muscles tighten just hearing the description. Lady was excited, and Hillary’s enthusiasm was contagious and it helped me forget that I was back in Huckleberry Springs and that I was married to a guy who seemed too good to be true.

I switch legs. Minimal relief is better than none. “No, not usually.”

He slides a plate of steaming food in front of me and sets down a juice. I swap legs again and shake my hands out. They’re wussing out on me.

He pulls out a chair and sits facing me. “Let me see what I can do.”

I gawk at his wiggling fingers beckoning for me to give him my leg. “N-no.”

His bright eyes glitter. “Afraid I might actually help?”

Yes. What if it does take away the pain? Worse, what if I end up nothing but a soaked pair of panties when he puts his hands on me? “You have, what? Two or three jobs. Is masseuse one of them?”

“You gonna pay me?”

My tab is up pretty high. I owe him for cleaning my dad’s house, for the room I sleep in, and now for food. “You should know that your wife is broke.”

The back of my throat burns to admit it. At least my joking tone might be believable.

He doesn’t move, just waits patiently. “Em, are you really going to go through a day of pain instead of seeing if I can help?”