Page 41 of Whiskey Kisses For the Mountain Man
OWEN
Three days after the snowstorm, and I still can't stop thinking about her. About us. About that night.
It's not just the sex, though, that was mind-blowing. It's the way Lettie looked in my flannel, curled up on my couch. The way she smiled at our pathetic little Christmas tree, like it was the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen. The way she opened up to me about her ex and her family.
I've spent the last three days in a daze, moving through my routine while replaying every moment in my head. When her cabin's power came back on the next morning, I wasn't ready for her to leave. I almost asked her to stay another night, but stopped myself. Too much, too soon.
Now I'm at the distillery, going through inventory while waiting for Lettie to arrive. We're supposed to be finalizing the non-alcoholic drinks menu for the festival, but all I can think about is how her skin felt against mine.
"Earth to Owen," Nash's voice cuts through my thoughts. "You planning to count those bottles or just stare at them all day?"
I glare at him. "Don't you have somewhere else to be?"
"Not when watching you moon over the Christmas Queen is the best entertainment in town." He leans against the shelf with that infuriating grin. "Heard her cabin lost power during the storm. Also heard she didn't spend the night alone."
"Fuck off, Nash."
His grin widens. "That good, huh?"
Before I can tell him exactly where he can shove his assumptions, the front door chimes, and Lettie walks in. She's wearing a red dress with little white snowflakes on it, her hair falling in loose waves around her shoulders. When she sees me, her smile lights up her entire face.
My heart does something ridiculous in my chest.
"Merry afternoon, Owen," she calls, then notices Nash. "And hello to you, too, Nash."
"Lettie," Nash nods, still grinning. "Was just leaving Owen to his... inventory." He pushes off the shelf and heads for the door, pausing beside Lettie. "My girl Ivy's got some new cookie recipes she's testing. Stop by my place sometime if you want to try them."
"I'd love that," she says warmly.
After Nash leaves, Lettie walks over to me, her eyes scanning my face like she's looking for something. "Hi," she says, softer now.
"Hi," I reply, suddenly feeling awkward. What's the protocol here? Do I kiss her? Shake her hand? Act like nothing happened?
She solves the dilemma by rising on her toes and pressing a quick kiss to my cheek. "Sorry I'm late. I was on a call with the mayor about the tree lighting ceremony."
The casual affection both relieves and terrifies me. "It's fine. I was just doing inventory."
"So I saw," she smiles, glancing at the clipboard in my hand where I've written exactly nothing for the last twenty minutes. "Ready to talk drink menus?"
I nod, grateful for the shift to business. "I've got some ideas."
We move to my office, where I've set up a small tasting station with various ingredients for non-alcoholic drinks. Lettie settles into the chair across from my desk, pulling out her ever-present tablet.
"I love the hot spiced cider idea," she says, scrolling through notes. "And I was thinking we could do a cranberry spritzer with rosemary for those who want something cold."
"Makes sense." I lean against my desk. "What about something using our bourbon flavor profile but without the alcohol?"
Her eyes light up. "Yes! A whiskey-inspired mocktail would be perfect. I'm excited to try that."
"You've had bourbon before, right?"
She hesitates, then shakes her head. "Actually, no. I'm not much of a spirits drinker. Wine occasionally, but mostly I stick to sweet cocktails."
I stare at her. "You've never had whiskey? Ever?"
"Is that so shocking?"
"You're working with a distillery on a whiskey tasting event, and you've never actually tried the product?"
