Chasing Whiskey Read online

  I shrug. “Being around people has never really been my thing,” I admit.

  “Why’s that?” Oriana asks softly. Audrey and I glance over her. “If I can ask, I mean.” She blushes slightly. “I’m not trying to be rude or nosy.”

  “I was in the Army,” I explain.

  She holds up her hand. “Say no more,” she tells me. “My brother was in the Navy and was the same way. If it got too busy or noisy or crowded, he needed to peace out. I get it.”

  “Was he overseas?”

  “For awhile,” she says, but then she stops talking and quietly gets back to work. For a minute, Audrey and I are silent.

  “She’s a hard worker,” Audrey points out the obvious.

  “I know.”

  “Better than Heather.”

  “I know.”

  “Don’t fuck her.”

  “Excuse me?” I look over at Audrey, but there’s no malice on her face.

  “I’m just saying that if you fuck her, you’re going to screw up the best employee you have.”

  “I thought you were my best employee.”

  “There’s a new girl in town, Dale, and she’s fucking incredible. Don’t mess it up. I’m serious.” Audrey tosses a washcloth in my direction. I catch it easily and look back up, but she’s already walking away.

  She’s right.

  Oriana is great.

  She’s only been here for two days, but being around her is just fucking comfortable. She’s a hard worker. She’s determined, she’s strong, and she’s interesting.

  And I can’t understand why, out of all the places in the world, she chose to move to Greenville, Kansas. There are other cities with larger populations, more job opportunities, better housing, and more entertainment. There are other, better, more interesting cities she could have chosen, but she didn’t.

  Why?

  When I catch her alone a few hours later, I ask her. It’s near the end of the night and Audrey is already gone. Kyle is still hanging out, ready to kick out anyone who causes trouble, but at this point, there are just a few stragglers left.

  “So can I ask you something?” I look at Oriana. She looks up from where she’s tidying up the bottles of liquor behind the bar. She’s methodical in her work, and I like that. It’s difficult to find good people to hire. It’s even more difficult to find people who are interesting and that I actually want to talk to.

  Maybe I really am just turning into a Grinch in my old age.

  “I suppose that depends on what it is,” she tells me, looking back at the liquor.

  “Why Greenville?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You’re from Minnesota. I’m guessing you didn’t come here for college. You’re past that at this point in your life. There’s a military base nearby, but you aren’t enlisted. So why Greenville?”

  “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” she says with a chuckle.

  “Try me.”

  “Okay,” she turns around and leans back against the counter. “I read The Darkness in Greenville when I was a kid.”

  “The book about the vampires?”

  “Yeah.”

  “The book about vampires in Greenville, Kansas?”

  It’s the one thing this damn town is known for, but I haven’t heard anyone mention that book in years. Hell, I don’t even think anyone’s thought about that book in years. It follows the story of one woman’s journey to Kansas and how she hunts the vampires lurking in the Greenville Cemetery.

  Someone wrote it years ago while on a road trip through Kansas, and somehow, it became really popular for like, one summer. I’m surprised there are still copies in existence.

  “That’s the one,” she says. “Funny, right? I don’t know, Dale. It just stuck with me: having an adventure in Kansas. Of all fucking places, right? Some shit went down back home. Stuff happened. I decided to leave. I don’t have a house to go back to or a family to go back to or anything. So I guess I just thought, why not Kansas? Why not see what Greenville really has?”

  “So that’s it?” I ask. “You just packed up your stuff and drove here?”

  “Yep.”

  “Do you have an apartment?” I ask her, suddenly concerned, and Oriana’s face softens.

  “I’m renting a room from Mrs. Bot.”

  “She’s a weird old lady,” I warn her.

  “She’s cheap,” Oriana says. “And there’s a private entrance, so I know I’m not bothering her when I come or go at all hours of the night.”

  “I’m glad you found somewhere safe.

  “I’m glad I found you,” she says with a shrug.

  “That almost sounds like a compliment,” I warn her. “Don’t get too crazy, now.”

  Oriana laughs. The sound fills the whole bar, and for a second, I just want to wrap my damn arms around her. How did this magical woman end up here in Chasing Whiskey? How did she end up in my bar of all bars?

  “Don’t worry,” she jokes. “I’ll do my best not to fall in love with you.”

  “Oh, I’ve heard that line before,” I wink, but then I reach around behind her. For a second, I want to kiss her. It’s right at the edge of my consciousness to just grab her and kiss her and show her how pretty she is because I don’t think Oriana knows. I don’t think she realizes that she’s a goddess. She’s gorgeous and pretty and sweet.

  More than that, she’s kind.

  She’s genuinely, honestly kind.

  But I don’t kiss her.

  Not now.

  Maybe not ever.

  I don’t know if that’s in the cards for the two of us.

  I reach behind her and I flip on the lights. She doesn’t move, and for a second, we’re so close that our chests are pressed together. With each breath, I feel her breasts pushing against me.

  “Closing time,” I whisper.

  “Closing time,” she agrees.

  Chapter Four

  Oriana

  Dale and Kyle both offer me rides, but I know it’s a bad idea, so I walk home alone. I don’t live very far from the bar and although I have a car, I like to walk. It gives me a little bit of time to clear my thoughts before I reach my destination. There’s something about the stars in Kansas that seem brighter and bolder than the stars in Minnesota. It’s stupid. They’re the same stars, but I can’t seem to get enough of them.

  Staring at them as I walk, I wonder what my life would be like if I hadn’t left, if I hadn’t gotten out. For me, Kansas is an escape from reality: a welcome reprieve. For me, it’s the perfect place to start new. I’m 23. I’m not old. I’m young, and I shouldn’t feel as aged and tired as I do.

  Sometimes life isn’t fair, though.

  Sometimes we experience things we were never meant to feel.

  I let myself in the backdoor that leads to the basement. The stairs are narrow, but I don’t mind being careful as I make my way down the stairs and into the tiny bedroom I’m renting. Technically, I’m only renting the bedroom and bathroom in the basement, but the finished space is empty and Mrs. Bot doesn’t seem to mind if I use it. My new home feels like a big apartment. I like it.

  Then again, I seem to like everything about Greenville.

  Including my job.

  Including my boss.

  Especially my boss.

  It’s a bad idea, falling for the guy I work with. I need to get my feelings under control because sometimes I get the feeling that Dale likes me as more than an employee.

  Sometimes I get the feeling that we could have a lot of fun together.

  Tomorrow is New Year’s Eve and it’s going to be a crazy night. Dale is beyond thrilled that I’m going to be around to help. Sometimes I get the feeling he likes me. Sometimes I think it’s really just because I’m around and he needs a helper.

  I don’t know.

  Right now, all I know is that Greenville feels like a safe place, and I haven’t felt safe in a very, very long time. Not since Bobby left for the war. Not since he came back changed. Not sinc
e I buried my brother.

  I haven’t felt safe and I haven’t felt comfortable, but here, I finally feel like I can let my guard down. Oh, I’m brand new to this little town. I’m new and alone and I miss my brother more than anyone could possibly imagine, but I’m taking things one day at a time and right now, that’s all I need.

  *

  New Year’s Eve arrives.

  “Order up,” Audrey calls, placing an order on the bar. I look at the words scrawled on a sheet of paper and instantly start making the drinks. It’s almost midnight and, as promised, we’ve been swamped all night.

  “I’m right on top of it,” I tell her, and she disappears. Quickly, I start going through the motions of measuring the liquor, adding the mixer, and then stirring. Wash, rinse, repeat. I’m not an expert bartendress. Not by any means. Still, I’m doing my best to keep up with the drinks as both Audrey and the patrons come up and order new things.

  Dale is behind the bar with me tonight.

  “You’re doing great,” he keeps telling me. I’m not sure if he’s just trying to be nice or if I just look super overwhelmed, but I appreciate the sentiment.

  “Thanks,” I say. I haven’t taken a break all night and neither has he. I’m sure it’s against some sort of worker’s code or law, but I don’t really care. We’ve already emptied the tip jar twice tonight and it’s nearly full again. Tonight is going to be a really, really good night.

  It means I’m going to be able to start saving money and soon, I’ll probably be able to get my own place. For real. I think I’m going to buy a house. I don’t want to live in a rented room for my entire life and I certainly don’t want to be in an apartment forever. For a long time, something as simple as being able to afford a down payment on a house seemed impossible.

  Now I’m starting to think that everything might actually be okay.

  “Hey, you fucked up my drink,” a guy says, cutting into my thoughts. Then suddenly, I’m completely soaked.

  Like, totally, completely soaked.

  I gasp in shock as the liquid hits my skin and I look up to see a younger-looking guy staring at me with malice in his eyes.

  “Fix it,” he sneers. “You fucked up my drink. I wanted a rum and Coke. That’s not what you made.”

  Before I can react, Dale is lifting the guy by the back of his shirt and shoves him toward the door.

  “Get out of my fucking bar, asshole,” he says.

  “But I paid for the drink already,” the guy protests.

  “I guess you should have thought about that before you treated one of my waitresses like shit. Fuck off,” Dale says. For a second, I think the guy is going to protest again, but Kyle comes over and crosses his arms over his chest in a silent threat. Dale is big, but you’d have to be fucking insane to try double-crossing Kyle. He’s not the kind of guy you mess with.

  Ever.

  “Yeah, okay,” the guy grumbles, and he heads out the door. The guys who were with him also file out, leaving half-finished drinks behind.

  Deep breaths, I tell myself.

  You’ve been through worse than this. You can do this.

  I move to start cleaning up the drinks, but Dale stops me.

  “Come with me,” he murmurs. He takes my arm and guides me over to the break room. He pushes open the door and we both go inside.

  I run my hands up and down my arms, shivering a little.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” I wave him off.

  “No, Oriana, I mean it. Are you okay? It’s fine if you aren’t okay, Oriana. You don’t have to be strong. Not right now. Not here. Not with me. Okay? That guy was a dick, but we’ll never let him back inside.”

  “I know,” I nod, but really, I’m just thinking about how wet I am. I’m seriously fucking soaked, and this is not how I wanted the night to end. It’s almost midnight, and tonight was supposed to be the ending to a terrible year and the start of a fresh one. It was supposed to signify me moving on with my life after Bobby.

  It was supposed to be my shot at finding something real, something true, something completely mine.

  But I’m wet.

  I’m soaked, and I smell like alcohol, and I’m standing in a break room with my boss and he looks so completely concerned for me that I can’t handle it.

  “I’m okay,” I say again. Really, I’m just hoping he’ll leave so I can crumble and cry alone. I’m ready to break down. I’m ready to shed the tears that have been threatening to fall since my brother died.

  I haven’t cried.

  I haven’t cried in weeks.

  Not since it happened.

  Not since before.

  The 10-second countdown begins. I can hear the rest of the bar shouting, and I realize that we’re missing it. We’re missing New Year’s. We’re missing the start of something wonderful.

  “I’m okay,” I whisper, but I’ve underestimated Dale. For a second, I think he’s going to leave, to hurry back to the crowd that waits in the main room of the bar, but he doesn’t.

  He steps forward instead and he reaches for me.

  “Happy New Year, Oriana,” he murmurs, and then Dale lowers his lips to mine, and he kisses me like we’re the last two people on Earth.

  Chapter Five

  Dale

  I’m not the type of guy who moves into relationships easily. Maybe it’s because my parents were so in love when I was little and I always wanted that, too. Maybe it’s because after my dad died, my mom was broken. Maybe it’s because there’s a little part of me that’s always hoped one day, I’d find someone who made my heart sing.

  No matter where I’ve gone in life, I’ve never met someone who made me feel totally, completely, and utterly alive.

  Then I met Oriana.

  And now I’m kissing her.

  Nothing in my life has felt as right as this moment feels. Nothing has felt as pure or as wonderful or as magical as kissing her does.

  “Happy New Year,” she murmurs back, but she doesn’t stop kissing me. She just whispers the words against my lips, and then she pulls me closer. Oriana’s shirt is soaked and now mine is, too, but I don’t give a shit. The only thing that matters right now is that she’s here, in my arms, and I’ve never felt anything so right before.

  The door behind us bursts open and Audrey comes rushing in. She ignores the fact that we’re kissing.

  “Are you okay?” She asks Oriana. “That guy was a dick.”

  Oriana pulls away and smiles at Audrey. She doesn’t seem embarrassed that Audrey caught us, and I like that. I like that she’s not embarrassed or shy or nervous, at least not about this.

  “I’m okay,” she says.

  “Well, sure, now you are,” Audrey jerks her head toward me. “Now that Boss Man has cheered you up. Do you want something to wear?” She asks, ignoring me and turning toward the duffel bag she leaves in the corner. Audrey has had stuff spilled on her before, so she always keeps extra clothes at work. “Here, this should fit you.” She hands Oriana a plain black shirt.

  “Thanks,” Oriana says, taking the shirt. “I really appreciate it.”

  “You have one of those for me?” I ask, motioning toward my own wet shirt. Audrey rolls her eyes and just laughs.

  “You should have thought about that before you started kissing your buddy there,” she says. Then Audrey leaves, closing the door behind her, and it’s just Oriana and me.

  “I’ll step outside so you can change,” I tell her, turning to move.

  “Wait,” Oriana grabs my arm, and I stop.

  “What is it?”

  “You don’t have to leave,” she whispers, wrapping her arms around me, and then she kisses me again. This time, it’s not an exploratory kiss. It’s not gentle or quiet or new. This time, things are a little more serious, and she kisses me deeply. She kisses me like she can’t get enough of it.

  She kisses me like this is the most important thing she’s ever done.

  I like kissing. I’m good at it and it
makes me feel relaxed and content, but kissing Oriana is unlike anything I’ve ever experienced before. Kissing her is like fire and ice all wrapped up in one incredible package. It’s like my heart is burning and my soul is freezing and the only thing that’s going to help is to keep kissing her over and over and over.

  Then she stops, pulling away. For a second, I think the kiss is over, but Oriana simply pulls up her shirt. Her heavy breasts bounce as she tosses the wet shirt aside. She’s wearing a red lace bra, but I can see her nipples poking through. I was already hard from kissing her, but now my dick is completely insatiable.

  There’ll be no coming back from this, I realize.

  If I thought we could be just friends after this, well, we can’t. There’s absolutely no fucking chance I’m going to let Oriana go. Not now.

  “You’re beautiful,” I manage to say. My voice comes out husky.

  “I could say the same thing about you,” she says. “Don’t you think you should take off your shirt, too?”

  “Why?” I whisper.

  “Because it’s wet.”

  “It’s okay.”

  “Maybe I’m embarrassed being the only one without a shirt on,” she says, and I rip my top off and throw it on the ground. She wants to see me without my shirt on? Well, she’s going to fucking see me without my shirt on. No problem. She doesn’t have to ask me twice.

  Oriana’s eyes roam my chest and abs. Suddenly, I’m thrilled about the hours I’ve spent at the gym. Sometimes it seems like thankless work, but right now? Right now I’m ready to spend the rest of my damn lifting weights if it means she’s going to keep looking at me like this.

  “You like what you see?” I ask her. It’s a stupid line, but I can’t help myself. Suddenly, I don’t want anything more than I want her hands on me.

  “Mmm,” she murmurs, and then she touches me. Oriana reaches out and presses her palms against my chest. Then she moves her hands up and down, slowly exploring me. The sensation is so perfect it’s almost painful. She moves slowly, carefully. She takes her time, and I both love and hate it. Part of me wants to throw her down on the couch and make love to her until she goes crazy. Part of me never wants his moment to end because her hands feel so perfect on me.