Page 1 of A Taste of Whiskey
Chapter One
ANOTHER DATE BITES the dust. Story of my life.
Sasha Whiskey climbed into her truck after yet another mediocre Saturday-night date. She mentally addedboring bankersto the growing list of men shewasn’tlooking for. People said finding a good man was like hunting for a needle in a haystack, but she wasn’t buying it. It was more like diving bare-ass naked into a haystack full of needles. She started the truck and “Another One Bites the Dust” came on the radio.
Are you freaking kidding me?
Even the universe agreed with her. She was jabbing at the screen on the dashboard to change the song when a call rang through from her younger sister, Birdie. Birdie was the only one of her four siblings who didn’t work and live at Redemption Ranch in Hope Valley, Colorado, their family’s second-chance ranch, where they rescued horses and gave troubled souls the therapy and support they needed to find their path in life. Birdie lived in Allure, a neighboring town where she co-owned a chocolate shop.
“Hey, Bird.”
“Darn it! I was hoping you wouldn’t answer.”
“Then why did you call?” Birdie had always marched to her own beat. She was brilliantly creative, but her mind ran in a dozen directions at once, and while Sasha adored her, she was never quite sure where she was coming from.
“Because I was dying to know what happened on your date. If you didn’t answer, I would’ve assumed you were finally getting laid. But I guess Randy wasn’t sorandyafter all.”
“Did you stop to think I might not answer because I could be in trouble? What if I’d been kidnapped or something?”
“As if there’s that type of crime in Hope Valley? Besides, Randy’s not exactly the kidnap—Wait!Did you role-play? That could be hot. But then you wouldn’t have answered. So…what happened? Did he kiss like a seventh grader?”
“What does that mean?”
“You know. All tongue with his mouth open too wide? Or worse, barely opening his mouth at all. I hate guys who kiss like cracker boxes. They should really come with warnings. Like when you visit an animal shelter and the little cards on the cages say things like,Not cat friendlyorhe’s a chewer.”
Sasha laughed. “Wouldn’t that be nice?”
“Yes, so give me the deets. Did he try to ring your doorbell, but he couldn’t find it? Tell me he’s not one of those guys who’s hot and smart but has no idea what he’s doing in bed.”
That was big talk for a girl who didn’t get much action, but Sasha loved that Birdie always knew how to lighten the air. She could also be nosy and annoying, like any younger sister, but having grown up with three overprotective brothers, they had to stick together.
Sasha drove out of the parking lot. “I hate guys who need a road map, but I have no idea if Randy is one of them. We didn’t even kiss.”
“Not even a good-night kiss? Why? You guys had all of that great flirty banter every time you went into the bank.”
“Once we got to talking, we had nothing in common. His life is banking and golf. He’s very business minded. I imagine him checking off lists in his head while he has sex. Kissing.Check.Touching.Check.One orgasm.Check.” Being brought up in a biker family with rugged men who would stare down the devil himself to protect the people they loved, and working with men and women who had been in prison or were recovering from substance use, Sasha had been exposed to some dark situations, and she was drawn to men who could handle them. “Just once I’d like to go on a date and feel that zing of attraction that makes you crave everything about a guy, from his voice and his energy to his lips and—”
“Giant anaconda?”
“Yes, that, too. Why is it so hard to find a guy who’s smartandpassionate? Someone who exudes masculinity without crossing the line to toxic and can make you want him from across the room without saying a word?”The way Ezra does.
Ezra Moore was the epitome of Sasha’s ideal man. He was a member of the Dark Knights motorcycle club, which her father had founded more than three decades ago, he loved his five-year-old son, Gus, with everything he had, and he had a heart of gold. He was also beyond beautiful. He looked like a Greek god, tall and dark with soulful eyes and olive skin, and he had an edge that he kept under wraps. An edge she’d like to set free. But he was also a therapist at the ranch, making him forbidden territory since they didn’t allow intracompany dating.
“Ugh.Sasha, you’re doing itagain,” Birdie complained.
“Doing what?”
“Comparing everyone to Ezra, and don’t even pretend you’re not. I can hear your brain twisting this back to him. You do it with every guy you go out with. You and Ezra shared one kiss when you were teenagers, and you’ve built it up to be this life-altering moment.”
Itwasa life-altering moment.
Ezra had grown up in a different town, going to different schools than the Whiskeys, and he’d been such a rebellious teenager, his father had enrolled him in a program at the ranch for troubled kids when he was a senior in high school. But one night before Sasha and her siblings knew who Ezra Moore was, his and Sasha’s paths had crossed, and she’d gotten a glimpse of the edge he now kept so tightly locked down and a taste of the lips she’d fantasized about ever since. She’d never forgotten the raw passion and primal hunger behind that kiss, the feel of his strong hands, or the confidence with which he’d taken that kiss. How could she when she had spent the last thirteen years searching for the equivalent—and regretting turning him down when he’d wanted more?
Not that it mattered. While their friendship had deepened over the years and he was playful and flirty when they were alone, he’d never given her any indication of wanting more since he’d cleaned up his act.
“You know I’m right,” Birdie said, bringing Sasha back to their conversation.
“I never should have told you about that.”
