Page 25 of Bourbon Girl: part 4 of 6
"So you're the tour guide Dylan can't stop talking about," Preston said with a knowing grin that made Dylan flush slightly. "I can see why he's been so distracted lately."
The comment sent warmth flooding through my chest. Dylan had been talking about me to his friends? The realization made me feel giddy.
Across the room, I spotted Dylan's family holding court near the bourbon tasting station. Boyd and Jessica looked perfectly at home in this setting, their elegant attire and confident demeanor marking them as natural aristocrats. Boyd wore a beautifully cut tuxedo, while Jessica was resplendent in a champagne-colored silk dress.
Portia stood beside them in a stunning emerald gown, looking every inch the society princess she'd been born to be. When our eyes met across the room, she offered a polite smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.
"Come on," Dylan said, noticing my gaze. "Let's go say hello to my family."
The Biggs family greeted me with cordial warmth, though I sensed Portia was still not a fan of mine. Her conversation remained polite but distant, peppered with subtle comments that reminded me of our different social standings.
"That's such an interesting vintage piece," she said, studying my mother's dress with calculating eyes. "So authentic. You don't see many people willing to wear actual vintage anymore—most prefer reproductions for the sake of fit and comfort."
But Jessica's warmth and Boyd's inclusive manner helped offset Portia's coolness, and Dylan's obvious pride in having me there made me feel like I belonged, at least for the evening.
As the night progressed, Dylan and I found ourselves on the dance floor, swaying to the jazz quartet's rendition of classic standards. His arms around me felt perfect, his body warm and solid against mine as we moved together in the soft light. Iwas having the time of my life, swept up in the music and the romance and the sheer impossibility of being there.
"This is magical," I whispered against his ear as we danced to "The Way You Look Tonight."
"You're magical," he replied, pulling me closer.
As the evening wound down and guests began to drift toward the exits, Dylan walked me toward the parking area, his hand warm in mine.
"I have a room at the Brown Hotel tonight," he said quietly, his voice carrying unmistakable invitation. "Spend the night with me?"
I was oh, so tempted—every part of me wanted to say yes, to follow him to his hotel room and let whatever was building between us reach its natural conclusion.
But something held me back, some instinct for self-preservation that whispered warnings about moving too fast, about the complications that would inevitably follow.
"I'm tempted," I said honestly, my voice barely above a whisper. "But maybe another time? I have to work tomorrow, and I should probably get some rest."
Disappointment flickered across his features, but he recovered quickly, his smile understanding rather than pressuring.
"Of course," he said, bringing my hand to his lips for a gentle kiss. "Another time, then. Soon."
"Soon," I agreed, meaning it with every fiber of my being.
As I drove away from Keeneland, the memory of his arms around me and the promise of "another time" burning bright in my mind, I sensed that whatever was happening between us was moving toward something inevitable.
October 26, Sunday
barrel toast profilea customized combination of toasting and charring to develop specific flavor characteristics
THE BUSlurched to a stop at the campground entrance as the late afternoon sun slanted through the trees, casting long shadows across the gravel path.
"See ya," I said to Jett, then swung down the steps.
"Hey, do you have any plans tonight?"
I turned back. "No, not really. Probably just catching up on reading and an early bedtime. Why?"
A mischievous grin spread across his face, the kind of expression I'd learned to associate with his more spontaneous ideas. "Put on something warm and I'll be back to pick you up in an hour."
By this time, I had learned to trust Jett. His suggestions had led me to hidden gems across the state. Whatever he had planned, I knew it would be memorable.
"Should I ask what we're doing?" I called as he began to close the bus door.
"Where's the fun in that?" he replied with a laugh. "Just dress warm. You'll thank me later."
