Page 1 of Sipping Seduction
CHAPTER1
Evan
Spendingtime in nature was supposed to be relaxing. Whoever said that had never been on a hike with my best friend Frannie and her hyper rescue mutt, who also was a failed therapy dog.
“Watch out!” Frannie raced around me in hot pursuit of Pete the Dog, who’d just wrenched free from his collar and taken off after a squirrel on the trail ahead.
I’d tried calling the rambunctious mutt Pete, but Frannie insisted we use his full name. She was the principal of the local elementary school and had let a class of kindergarteners name him after their favorite storybook character, Pete the Cat. It didn’t seem to matter that Pete the Dog didn’t look like or act like the laid-back groovy cat who played the guitar and sang about buttons.
It also didn’t seem to matter that Pete the Dog was supposed to be a trained therapy animal. He’d gone through the program one of Frannie’s friends started, but hadn’t quite graduated. Frannie had offered to work with him over the summer, and they’d made good progress. Pete the Dog had passed most of his tests with flying colors, but just couldn’t resist chasing after squirrels.
I shifted the day pack higher on my shoulders and increased my pace. The tightness in my calf pinched, but I ignored it. Three rounds of physical therapy still hadn’t taken care of the injuries I’d sustained during my deployment. I was tired of my injury limiting me, so I pushed forward, finally catching up to Frannie and Pete the Dog.
“Can you believe him today?” She tightened the collar and refastened it around the fluffy dog’s neck. He was part Labrador retriever and part poodle and looked like a larger-than-life chocolate teddy bear. “I’ve been feeling so sorry for him because of school starting. You’d think he’d be grateful to get out on a hike one last time before he has to go back to the office with me.”
I shifted the weight off my injured leg and leaned against the trunk of a tall oak. “When are you going to admit you’re in over your head with that dog?”
Never one to back down, Frannie knit her brows together. I couldn’t see her eyes, but I could picture the glare she was shooting me through her dark sunglasses. “What are you talking about? He’s the sweetest dog ever.”
“Until he sees a squirrel.” I shook my head and turned to hide my smile.
“We’re working on it.” She wrapped the leash around her fingers and lifted her chin toward the trail. “You want to keep going, or are you worn out already?”
I’d rather eat a mountain of dirt than let Frannie think I was ready to call it quits, even though my calf was begging me to turn back. “Just waiting for you.”
“Last one to the top has to pay for pizza,” Frannie said, then charged forward.
I pushed off the tree and followed, struggling to keep up. It wasn’t just my leg giving me issues. The doctors were able to remove most of the shrapnel that had been embedded in my muscle, but there was enough left to bother me on a daily basis. They wanted to do more surgery, but I’d refused. Working at the distillery my family co-owned didn’t aggravate my injuries too much, but racing up a mountain did.
Frannie reached the top and stopped next to a large boulder. We’d hiked this trail dozens of times in the past, but this was my first attempt since I got back to Tennessee a couple of years ago.
“It’s official. Pizza’s on you tonight.” She took a swig of water and passed me the bottle. “Either you’re going soft on me and let me win, or you’re more out of shape than you want to admit. Which is it?”
“Maybe a little of both.” I arched a brow, then tilted the water bottle up and sucked down a few swallows. I’d known Frannie since grade school. She’d understand if I told her what the doctor said—that I’d probably never get back to one-hundred percent. But with a family who’d always thought of me as the athletic one, I wasn’t ready to admit that I couldn’t do everything I used to.
Frannie laughed as she reached into her own day pack and pulled out a collapsible bowl to give Pete the Dog some water. “I guess that means we need to get you out on the trails more. You’ve been taking it too easy at work.”
“Yeah, right.” Ever since the anniversary celebration we’d hosted at the start of summer, orders for the distillery had been pouring in. As the Director of Production, I’d been involved in too many meetings to count about how we could increase our output. Taking it too easy at work definitely wasn’t the issue.
“You know I’m just teasing, right?” Frannie asked.
Nodding, I shifted my gaze toward town. From this high up on the trail, I could see the small downtown of Beaver Bluff spread out below us. Summer was still holding on. The warm temps had yet to give way to cooler fall nights. Soon, the leaves would start to change, and the hillsides would turn into a colorful display of oranges, yellows, and reds. I drew in a deep breath, filling my lungs with the earthy scent of the woods.
Frannie pulled out her phone and came over to stand next to me. “We need a picture. I think the last one we got was a couple of months ago at the distillery anniversary party.”
“You and your pictures.” I might tease, but I still wrapped my arm around her shoulder and grinned.
“Will you take it? Your arms are longer, plus I can’t hold on to Pete the Dog’s leash and snap a picture at the same time.”
I took her phone and held it out in front of us, making sure to fit the dog into the frame before capturing the image. “Send me a copy?”
“Of course.” She took her phone back and sent the picture via text while I turned back to take in the view. “What are you thinking about? Seems like your mind is a million miles away today.”
“Nah. I’m just thinking about it being the last day of summer. Remember when we were kids, and we’d try to fit everything we’d missed over the whole summer into the last weekend before school started?” I still couldn’t believe Frannie had gone on to become the principal of the elementary school we’d attended. She’d always wanted to be a teacher, but I couldn’t wrap my head around her working in the office where I spent so much time trying to talk my way out of trouble.
“Those were the days. Look at us now. We’re all grown up.”
I let my chin drop. “Sure doesn’t feel that way, does it?”
