Page 9 of Big Booze Boss

Her jaw sets, and her lips compress as she stares at my smirk. Then she walks to the freezer and pulls out the bottle. "I'm going to need more of this then."

ChapterThree

Summer

The three of us, Blaze and me along with the bottle of Blazing Fire (I refused to leave the bottle behind in the event I was delivered another shocking blow), leave the 'hideaway vacation house' and walk down the steps buried in the steep incline to a beautiful wide open valley where a huge red barn sits majestically surrounded by different sizes of the same split wood rail fenced corrals.

Blaze talks the whole way. "So, because you've been so forthcoming since your arrival, I assume you're not only the maid of honor but also the new wedding planner?"

His sarcasm isn't funny. I don't bother to answer. One, because it's obvious, and two, because Blazing Fire is making my need to focus on the placement of my feet on the steps more intense than normal. But that's okay. I got this, and I needed the drink.

As Blaze explains how he came to own the ranch, it isn't hard to see why he fell in love with it. Given any other scenario, I would be 'Eeewing and Aaawing' over it too.

But the logistics of having a wedding here make me stop at the bottom before we walk across to enter the barn and take another swig from the bottle.

I cough and hold it out to him.

He takes it and laughs, "I told you it needs to be ice cold to mask the fire."

"But it's so smooth." My voice cracks from the pain, and I sound like a frog croaking.

He takes a hit too, and I watch, enthralled as his big muscles bulge with the simple act. The right side of his chest and his right arm are covered with tattoos. The alcohol has loosened my tongue, and I blurt out, "Why aren't you wearing a shirt?"

He laughs. "Don't you remember? I never wear shirts in the summer."

Oh, I remember. I remember everything about being around your always half-naked gorgeous self.

I take another hit from the bottle, and his sexy, smart-ass smirk teases his lips.

He knows I remember. How could I forget? The four of us were always getting into shit.

But I decide to ignore him, not wanting to reminisce and be reminded of all my fantasies over my entire teenage years of his half-naked athletic body.

Instead, I look around with a wedding planner's coordinating eye. The road that I walked up passes in front of the cabin and circles around, ending here. It's wide and well-maintained.

Parking won't be a problem. There is plenty of pasture to put all the cars. Women in high heels will be an issue, though.

"Is that your only vehicle?" I nod at the white double-dually truck.

"No. I've got an old four-wheel drive truck that I use on the farm and a Jeep I bought for fun. But neither of them are road worthy."

"Do you mind if I take it into town tomorrow? I want to check out what exactly I'm dealing with. I don't need any more surprises."

He chuckles. "I'll take you."

"That's okay. You don't have to hold my hand." I tell him over my shoulder as I make my way to the truck.

He chuckles again, "What if I want to hold your hand?"

A vision of my hand in his, walking down a sidewalk in a small town with his tattooed arm hugged up tight so his pumped muscles tantalize my tits flashes before my eyes, and I clear my throat to cover my dazed, dreamy look and say, "Bad choice of words. You know what I mean."

He continues, "I have business to do in town, and I'll introduce you around so you won't be treated as a stranger. It's a tight community."

"Oh, okay. Thanks." I cut my eyes at him with a touch of an apology. But just a touch.

He walks up behind me, too close. "Breezy, I'm caught off guard by your arrival as well. Don't be mean to me. We're friends."

I spin around, insulted, and stare into his eyes.

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