Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 93453 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 467(@200wpm)___ 374(@250wpm)___ 312(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93453 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 467(@200wpm)___ 374(@250wpm)___ 312(@300wpm)
Pulling open the door, I step in and see how she transformed it. It looks like we are back in the twenties. The room is dimly lit, and black tablecloths cover all the tables. Wooden barrels are all over the place with pictures on them and little pieces of information beside them, along with a bottle of whatever whiskey goes with the picture. I look around the crowded room, spotting Brady standing with his father beside him, both of them in suits as they talk to a group of people in front of them.
My eyes scan the room, and I finally spot her on the side, talking to a man who looks like he’s my grandfather’s age. Her face is smiling, but she looks nervous as fuck. I can tell by the way her chest is rising and falling in the black satin dress she is wearing. It goes all the way up to her neck, the sleeves stop just after her elbow, as it goes tight at the waist and then hugs her hips until her mid-thigh. It’s the first time I’ve seen her this dressed up in a while, and my cock pays attention right away. “Finally.” I look over to see my grandfather standing there with a glass in his hand. “What took you guys so long?”
“Pops,” I say, shocked. “What are you doing here?” I go to hug him, and he slaps my back.
“Bought tickets,” he deadpans, and I shake my head. “I had a friend of mine who I thought would like this event.”
“A friend of yours?” I ask, confused, as he brings the glass to his lips and takes a sip.
“Yes,” he confirms and then motions with his head toward Autumn, “that’s my friend.” I watch as Autumn talks. “He owns Southern Tea. He is the largest wine and spirits distributor.” He takes another sip. “I might have given him a bottle of the new blend.”
I stare at him as he smirks at me. “I guess right time, right place,” I say, and then see my family walking around the room, taking in all the pictures. I look over at Autumn and see that she’s shaking the man’s hand, and the handshake lasts one second longer than it should or than I want it to last.
“Relax there,” my grandfather advises, “his wife is right there.” He motions with his chin to the woman in the corner talking to Brady now.
“Excuse me,” I say, walking away as he chuckles. Her eyes find mine, and I can see some tears in them, and my pulse races.
“Hi,” I say when I get close enough to her, wrapping an arm around her waist to bend down. Usually, I kiss her cheek, but not now, not tonight, actually, no fucking more. I kiss her on the lips, and she even gasps before my lips touch hers. I can hear whispers from some of the local people here but have zero fucks to give.
“Hi,” she replies, trying not to act like I didn’t just throw her off her game, but seeing the look in her eyes, I know I did. “Charlie,” she says my name, “meet Montgomery Johnson.” She smiles at the man. “This is Charlie Barnes.”
“We’ve met.” He shocks me. “When you were a little kid chasing the horses.” He laughs and sticks out his hand to shake mine.
“That sounds like me.” I take my hand off her waist and shake his hand, but then slide my hand into hers. She squeezes my hand tightly as we make small talk. Brady comes over and asks if he can give him a tour of the distillery. The two of them take off, and I look down at her. “Are you okay?”
“No.” She shakes her head. “Can you come with me?” she asks, and I nod as she turns. I stop after one step when I see the back of her dress or, better yet, the lack of the back of her dress. Her whole back is bare, with a sash bow that ties at the base of her back, right above her ass. I blink twice before I follow her closely, blocking her from people’s view behind us. She pushes open the door to the distillery, and I see most of my family with her dad as he shows them the process of the machines. She opens her office door, the curtain down on the big window that looks out. I follow her in and close the door. She turns to face me and bends over with her hands over her mouth and nose.
“Baby?” I ask softly, and she stands up.
“Do you know what just happened?” she says, her voice shaking and now one lone tear comes down her face.
“I have no idea, but I really fucking hope it’s good.” I walk to her, my thumb coming out to catch the lone tear.