Tequila High

by Michelle Leighton

  He straightens and widens his eyes in comical interest. “Yessss?”

  I smile, reaching up to cup his cheek. “I love you, Nixon Holt. I think I loved you from the first night I kissed you. I tried to deny it. I tried to run from it, but I couldn’t escape it. I couldn’t escape you. And I’m so glad, because my life was miserable without you. I don’t want to spend a single day away from you. Not now. Not ever again.”

  He smiles as he pulls me to his chest. “That’ll do for now. I’ll expect some more of that later, after you scream my name a few times.”

  Before I can comment, he lowers his head and kisses me in earnest. All the passion I’ve come to know and expect from him is there. It’s like he wants to devour me for hours and hours on end. But tonight, there’s something else. Something new. Something so magical yet so real that it sets my insides on fire. I burn with it from top to bottom, from inside and out. I’ll take this kind of burn, though, this exquisite kind of hurt. All day, every day for the rest of my life; Nixon and I can burn together. Flames so high they touch the sky. What a high that will be!

  Epilogue

  I can’t help smiling when Nixon drives us under the arch that leads to the ranch. It’s the day before Thanksgiving, and I haven’t told the family I’m coming home. Or that I’m bringing Nixon. Or about the other surprise I have for them.

  When I glance over at Nixon, he’s watching me with a smile of his own in place.

  “What?” I ask.

  “Nothing. Just admiring how gorgeous you are when you’re up to something.”

  “I’m not up to something.”

  “You are definitely up to something.”

  I giggle. I’m twenty-nine years old, and I giggle, for God’s sake.

  “I can’t help it. I’m just happy. And excited.”

  “I didn’t realize turkey was such a turn-on for you, but I’m making a mental note.”

  “It’s not the turkey.”

  “What do you think they’ll say when you tell them?”

  “I think they’ll be happy. And shocked. And then they’ll wonder if all we’ve done is have sex for the last two weeks.”

  “Well, to be fair, other than taking care of basic needs like food and hygiene, that is all we’ve done for the last two weeks. But when they find out you’re two months along, they’ll know you got pregnant at the ranch.”

  I shake my head, grinning. “That still boggles my mind.”

  “The Holt Method. I warned you about it.”

  I laugh outright. “You did warn me. Can’t say I didn’t know.” I’d had a sinus infection and had taken some antibiotics before returning to the ranch. I didn’t think anything about it interfering with my birth control, mainly because I wasn’t planning on having sex. And that was the last thing on my mind when Nixon came to my room that night, of course. I wasn’t even suspicious when my period was so light right after I came back to Colorado. I assumed it was stress-related.

  It wasn’t.

  “No regrets?” he asks me.

  “Not even a teeny tiny one. I couldn’t be happier.”

  His smile turns into one of deep satisfaction. “Good.”

  “You’re not having regrets, are you?”

  “Hell no! I’d keep you barefoot and pregnant with my babies until you’re eighty if that were physically possible.”

  “You might not say that when I get all fat.”

  He reaches for my hand and brings my fingers to his lips. “You’re going to be the most beautiful pregnant woman and mother the world has ever seen.”

  My heart melts right inside my chest. “I hope that’s the way you see me.”

  “It is. I promise.” After a short pause, he asks, “You really think they’ll be pleased? I mean we’re not married. I’m sure it’s not an ideal situation, especially for your dad.”

  When Nixon stops in the driveway in front of the house, I reach over to cup his cheek. He admires and respects my father, and I know he won’t want to disappoint him. “When they see how happy I am, none of them will care about that. Not even Daddy.”

  He turns his face, so he can press his lips to my palm. “You do look pretty happy.”

  “That’s because I am. I’m ecstatic. Life couldn’t be any better. Not in any way.”

  “So it doesn’t bother you that we’re not married?”

  “Not at all. I wouldn’t want us to get married just because of a baby.” I smile into his eyes. I’m careful how I phrase it because I know what he’s getting at. Nixon is going to propose to me at some point. I don’t know when and I don’t know the details, but I know it’s coming. He doesn’t know that I know, but I know.

  One day, while he was in the shower, his phone rang. It was a Texas number, and I answered it, thinking it might be something to do with the ranch. It wasn’t. It was a jeweler, confirming that the diamond he’d special ordered for the engagement ring had arrived and the ring would be ready in two weeks. Once I realized what I’d done, I swore the man to secrecy and asked him to call back and leave Nixon a message. He did, and Nixon was none the wiser. Me, on the other hand, I’ve been about to explode with happiness. I’ve been as pregnant with that information for the last few days as I have been with this baby.

  Just when it seemed my life was falling apart with no hope of happiness anywhere in sight, everything turned around at once and fell right into place. I can’t imagine things being any more perfect. I know I’ll be saying the same thing on my wedding day, and again at the birth of our first child. I’ll just keep getting happier and happier. But right now, I just can’t conceive of how that’s even possible.

  “I wouldn’t marry you because of a baby or anything else. If we get married, it will be because I love you, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

  “And that’s the only reason I’d say yes.”

  “But you would say yes? No aversions to marriage that I should know about?”

  I stifle my grin, so he doesn’t get suspicious. “Only marriage to anyone except you.”

  He shifts into park and turns to me. “You ready?”

  My smile is bright and broad. “I’m so ready.” Nixon doesn’t move right away, but just stares across the seat at me. “What is it?”

  He shakes his head slowly, like he’s in awe. “Never have I ever loved someone as much as I love you.”

  My whole being, my whole world vibrates with unspeakable joy. “Never will I ever get tired of hearing that.”

  And I won’t. That’s one of the few nevers I’m okay with.

  The End

  To My Readers

  All these stories would be collecting dust on a hard drive if not for you. I wouldn’t know for a fact that dreams DO come true if not for you. I wouldn’t have had the opportunity to meet some of the most fantastic people on the planet if not for you. I would not have a job that I love if not for you. You’ve brought so much joy into my life that I wish there was some way, some word or act that I could share that would adequately convey my gratitude. I have yet to find one, though, so in the absence of that, I’m going to say thank you. From the very, very, very bottom of my heart and with everything in me, THANK YOU.

  I hope you loved this book and will consider leaving a review and recommending it to a friend. You are more powerful than you know. YOU–the words from your mouth, the thoughts from your heart, shared with others—can move mountains. You make a huge difference in the life of an author. You have in mine. You do every day.

  I’d Love To Hear From You

  Don’t forget to keep in touch! Book lovers have to stick together, and the best way to stay informed about my books is to subscribe to my newsletter. I only do them a few times a year, so I promise not to hound you:) You can do that HERE.

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  Thank you so much taking this happy journey with Nixon, Haley, and me. I feel like I’m part of their family, and I hope you do, too! Don’t forget to keep turning to read the first chapter of RUM CRAZY, book 2 in this series. I’d say, based on the title, you have a pretty good idea which sister takes center stage in this book:)

  Acknowledgments

  First, always first, I’d like to thank my Heavenly Father for giving me the gift of a wonderful imagination and a love for the written word. Every good thing comes from Him, and I owe everything to Him.

  Secondly, I’d like to thank my amazing husband for never losing patience with his crazy wife. You are my world, babe.

  I’d also like to thank the most incredible beta support team in the history of man. Kat and TMR, your input is invaluable and I love you more than measure. Court, things have changed, but never my love for you. Paige, thank you for giving this story a spit-shine. And to a new addition, Becky, who went over this story tirelessly, thank you, too. I’m so glad you found me. Or I found you. Whichever.

  And to my incredible ARC team, I love you all and I’m so privileged that you ladies take the time to read my books, even when I deliver them on WAY short notice. LOL Thank you. Your love means so much to me!

  About the Author

  New York Times, USA Today and Wall Street Journal Bestselling Author, M. Leighton, is a rarely ever comfortable speaking about herself in the third person, but here goes. Michelle is a former nurse who has always harbored a passion for the written word, a weakness for alpha males, and a profound love of all things romantic. Never in her wildest dreams did this Southerner imagine her life as it is today. She has the best job in the world, a husband who treats her like a princess, and a dog that's so smart she may one day write a novel, too. You can often find Michelle hidden away in her cave, crafting a new story, or out in the sunshine enjoying some quiet time with her man. Movies, wine, and good food are frequently thrown into the mix, and exercise on days that start with Q. She loves wine, chocolate, the color red, and you can find out more about her at www.mleightonbooks.com. Sign up for her newsletter here: http://smarturl.it/MLeightonNews She promises not to spam your inbox:)

  Also by M. Leighton

  Standalones

  Levi’s Blue

  Pocketful of Sand

  The Empty Jar

  The Beautiful Now

  The Way We Burn

  Series

  Tequila High (new 100 Proof Series)

  Down to You ** Up to Me

  Everything for Us ** Always with You

  All the Pretty Lies ** All the Pretty Poses

  All Things Pretty

  Strong Enough ** Tough Enough

  Brave Enough

  The Wild Ones ** Wild Child

  Some Like It Wild ** There’s Wild, Then There’s You

  YA and PARANORMAL

  Standalones

  Fragile

  Gravity

  Caterpillar

  Wiccan

  Series

  Blood Like Poison: For the Love of a Vampire

  Blood Like Poison: Destined for a Vampire

  Blood Like Poison: To Kill an Angel

  Madly & Wolfhardt ** Madly & the Jackal

  The Reaping ** The Reckoning

  Rum Crazy Sneak Peek

  100 Proof Series Book 2, Coming March 2019

  CHAPTER 1

  Harper

  When I get a minute to catch my breath, as always, I use it to look around. I let my eyes run from one end of the bar to the other. As I scan the room, I don’t stop on any of the faces in the sea of people; I just take in the sheer volume of them. Pride and a sense of accomplishment swell in my chest. I had everything to do with this business from the ground up. Me and no one else. I love how it all turned out. From the gleaming oak bar and wood beam ceiling, to the industrial black chairs and festive lights over the pool table, every corner of this place has a piece of me in it. My unique mark. My eclectic taste. My bold personality. This place is mine. All mine.

  And it’s a success.

  We jokingly call it “Harper’s Bizarre,” even though it’s technically just called Harper’s. As the family wild child, this is a huge achievement. Most people doubted I could do it. Or maybe that I would. Most of them just shrugged at the idea of me opening my own bar. No big deal. It’s just a bar. Big whoop.

  But that’s not how I feel about it.

  There are only two things in life I’m good at—snark and tending bar. That’s not much talent, but damn it, I took what I had and made something of it. And I dare anyone to say otherwise. At least not within earshot of me. I’m likely to stick a boot up their ass. A nice one, too. Black leather Michael Kors knee boots at the moment. Just because I’m a snarky bar owner doesn’t mean I can’t wear cute clothes. I’m not an animal.

  “Can I get a Bacardi and Diet Coke please?”

  I’m still feeling dreamy when I meet the eye of the young woman ordering. She’s a beautiful brunette with shoulder length hair, crisp blue eyes, and a welcoming smile. She’s at that age, however, that makes me suspicious.

  “Sure. You got I.D.?”

  “I do,” she announces with a considerable amount of pride. I know why when I take the proffered driver’s license and see the date of birth. She just turned twenty-one four days ago.

  I hand it back to her. “Happy belated birthday. Rum and diet coming up.”

  “Thanks,” she replies, slipping the identification back into her purse. It looks like a Louis Vuitton. A real one. Not the first I’ve seen either. More and more, we’re seeing people with money coming to these parts.

  It all started when my sister’s husband, Nixon (The Mastermind as I like to call him) entered the picture two years ago. He and my father turned our family home into one of the most successful dude ranches in all of the great state of Texas. It was Mastermind’s idea to use a parcel of the land nearest the main road to develop a mini-town. It was founded on the idea of providing a unique amenity for the ranch guests, something that no other ranch offered—a place they could go out on the town without actually having to go all the way to real town. But the key was in the exclusivity. Our town boasts all local artisans and not a single chain store or restaurant. It quickly grew as travelers began stopping along the way to destination unknown to get a bite to eat or find an interesting souvenir. Turned out to be a brilliant idea.

  Aside from my bar, there is a small general store, a restaurant and bakery, a cozy art gallery, and a high-end apparel shop. It’s basically just a collection of the Brandt sisters’ dreams run amok. Hannah, the family chef, opened the restaurant. Hope, the family artist slash photographer, opened the gallery. And Haley, the family clothier, opened a second location of her very successful clothing shop. Our father, John, happily runs the general store and leaves the operating of the dude ranch to The Mastermind. I mean Nixon.

  The “town” was designed to look like a street in the Wild West, which is part of what gives it its appeal. I like to think the other part is the pure awesomeness that each of us Brandts brings to the table, but that might be a slightly biased opinion. Whatever the main ingredient, no one can argue the success of the combination. In fact, we will be breaking ground on a boutique hotel next year because people are starting to come from all over the country to see Brandt’s Crossing.

  I set the rum and Coke in front of the young lady. “Pay as you go or you want me to start a tab?”

  She opens her mouth to answer, but a low, deep, very irritated voice cuts her off. “Kira, what the hell? I told you to stay in the car.”

  My jaw goes a little bit slack when I glance over at the owner of said voice. I’ve seen some gorgeous guys in my life, but holy shit! This guy… He’s like a dark Adonis with his short black hair and olive complexion. He’s wearing a suit that’s cut to perfection and hangs lovingly on
his tall frame. It doesn’t detract from his physique, though. If anything, it somehow enhances it. And that can’t be easy. He’s at least seven feet tall, after all, and four feet wide through the shoulders. Okay, that might be a slight exaggeration, but he’s a big guy. Not fat.

  Not fat at all, I think as I let my eyes wander from those broad shoulders to his flat stomach and long legs.

  “Can’t I just have one drink, Bram?” the girl, Kira, whines, sending puppy dog eyes up at him.

  Bram shoots a quick look at me and, unless I’m misreading him, which I’m totally not, he’s absolutely furious. “Sorry. How much do I owe you for the drink?”

  “Twelve.”

  He reaches into his pocket and slides a twenty from his money clip, tossing it onto the bar. “Keep the change.” He grabs Kira by the upper arm and hauls her off the stool. “We’re leaving.”

  She wants to protest. I can see it in every line of her delicate features. But she doesn’t. She doesn’t even try to resist. She just goes along with him.

  Which is why I do what I do and open my big mouth.

  “Kira.” When I say her name, they both stop and look back at me. “If I were you, I’d kick him in the balls and never look back. You should never let a man treat you that way.”

  I smile extra big at both of them, even though each is just staring at me like I’ve completely lost my mind. After a few seconds, Kira dissolves into a fit of giggles. Unfortunately, that seems to take the domineering Bram from irritated to irate.