Whiskey Kiss: A Small-town Romance

by V McFarlane

  A new song starts, this one slower and I thank the heavens when she takes my hand and I’m able to pull her into me. Her arms fold around my neck, my hands on her waist and then we sway, right there in the living room with the girls watching.

  I was falling in love with her.

  The thought had been nagging at me, but I know now. This feeling inside my chest, the burn in my veins, better than any whiskey I’d ever tasted, any high I’d ever chased. There’s no denying how good we fit together, how well our bodies slide against each other’s, like a puzzle finally completed.

  The last part to all of this will be when she finally lets those walls down and trusts me completely. She needs to know I won’t hurt her, judge her, she needs to know that when I go all in, I’m all in.

  Penny doesn’t immediately let go when the song changes again to a much faster one and for that, I’m grateful.

  “Who’s hungry?” She claps her hands together and smiles.

  “Let’s order pizza,” I tell her, “Give you a break?”

  “It’s my job,” she laughs, “I don’t mind.”

  I wince at the job comment, she’s right though, this is her job, not to cook for me, but to cook for the kids. Still, I can treat her.

  “I’ll order in,” I tell her affirmatively.

  “Yes!” Ripley does a little fist bump in the air, “I love pizza.”

  After turning off the speakers and TV, the girls disappear and I’m finally alone with Penny. Before she can escape, I grab her and pull her back to me, planting my mouth firmly on hers. She melts in my arms, her hand coming up to cup my face as my tongue parts her lips. Now, this I could get used to.

  Call me a sap. I don’t care.

  My hand slides up her back, over her shoulder blades to her neck where I grip gently to tilt her head back, allowing me deeper access. I can feel the blood rush, the lust and desire stirring through me with every second that passes and when she whimpers a small moan it takes everything in me not to strip her from her clothes and have her on the sofa.

  I press my erection into her lower stomach, “This is what you do to me,” I growl against her mouth, “Every damn time, Penny.”

  “Taron,” she moans, tipping her head back to show the delicate column of her throat, “We shouldn’t.”

  “Oh, but we should,” I grumble, kissing up her neck, “And never stop because I can’t get enough.”

  Her breathing becomes heavy, fast and I’m mesmerised by the quick pace of her chest, rising and falling, and the way her pulse jumps erratically beneath her skin.

  I know the kids are only upstairs, I know they can walk in at any moment but Penny’s like a drug. One that gets into your system so quickly you’re helpless to stop the addiction. And that’s what she was, an addiction.

  Not enough. Never enough.

  I guide her back until she’s pinned against the wall, my body so tightly pressed against hers I can feel every curve, every dip and flow of her delicious body. My hands caress every inch they can reach, from the curve of her breasts to her perfectly round ass. My fingers knead, tickle, grip until I have to force myself to stop.

  Her mouth is swollen, red from the kiss and her hair is slightly mused, her eyelids heavy with lust. She stares at me, her breathing fast.

  “Shit,” she murmurs, snapping out of her daze, “You’re bad.”

  She smooths her hands down her hair, flattening the strands that have stuck out and tangled together and then she leans forward and places her hands on her knees, taking a deep breath.

  “You okay, darlin’?” I chuckle.

  She scowls at me from beneath her lashes, “Bad.” She repeats, “So, so bad.”

  I order us pizzas and soda from the local shop and then take a seat on the sofa, kicking my legs onto the coffee table, still sporting a semi from the little make out session with Penny that sits uncomfortably unsatisfied behind the zipper of my jeans. Penny drops down next to me, copying my position with her long, shapely legs resting on the table.

  “I was never allowed to put my feet on the table,” she giggles, “I would always get told off.”

  “You can put whatever part of your body on that table, darlin’,” I tell her with a wiggle of my eyebrows.

  A shot of laughter bursts from her mouth, her eyes lit up with humour and then she shakes her head, “What am I going to do with you?”

  I scrub a hand across my jaw, the stubble scratching my palm, “I can think of a few things.”

  “I assume these things would have to happen long after dark,” she cocks a brow.

  “Well I mean,” I shrug with a grin, “If you’re into a bit of risk, we can do it right now.”

  She playfully swats my arm, “Risk isn’t my thing.”

  “Were you a wild child when you were younger?”

  She sighs, “I was pregnant at nineteen, I supposed the first few teenage years I was, stayed out late, drank when I shouldn’t have.”

  I nod, “I can’t imagine what it would be like having a baby that young.”

  Anna did it but I didn’t know.

  She looks down at her fingers, entwined in her lap, “It was hard.”

  I nod, urging her to continue.

  “Like, you’re still a kid yourself, you have to grow up quick.”

  “You’re a fantastic mom, Penny,” I tell her, “Ava loves you.”

  She nods, “I try my best. I can’t always do what everyone else can, but I make sure she has everything she needs even it isn’t everything she wants.”

  I wonder what would have happened should I have known about Ripley’s existence back then. Would I be the dad I am now? I still have a lot to learn but I’d like to think that, that little girl is loved, she’s wanted and she’s happy. I was a prick when I was in my early twenties. I had no responsibilities and shit, I showed it. Dad wasn’t impressed with half the shit I got up to, but I was immature, I was a kid.

  Perhaps not knowing about Ripley until now was for the best. I grew up a lot after I came home from college and I can provide for her. I can give her stability now. I may have missed the first few years of her life and I’ll never get them back, but I get the rest of it. I get to see her grow up, I’ll get to see her go to college and go to prom. I’ll witness her getting married and having children of her own.

  “Ripley loves you, you know,” Penny fills the silence, “She adores you.”

  I smile, “I hope so.”

  “She does,” Penny smiles warmly, reaching out to squeeze my hand, “I know it. I see it.”

  I cock my head to the side, “How did I manage to find you?”

  It was supposed to be an internal question. One I was asking myself. It was a valid question. I hadn’t done much to deserve something good like Penny. Hell, I hadn’t done anything to deserve Ripley or Ava either and yet here I am, I have a beautiful woman. A daughter and my girls’ daughter.

  Because Penny was my girl, even if she didn’t know it and didn’t want to tell anyone, she was mine. I was keeping her.

  My heart wouldn’t have it any other way now that it had had a taste of her.

  “Bad luck maybe?” She chuckles but the laughter is fake and full of a vulnerability I hate to see on her.

  “Bad luck?” I sit up straighter, “Meeting you was anything but bad luck, Penny.”

  She cocks her head, “You really think that?”

  I reach forward and brush my thumb across that plump bottom lip, “You came into my life when I didn’t realise I needed you.”

  “Taron,” she closes her eyes, leaning into my touch just as the buzzer for the gate rings loudly through the house. Penny jumps startled by the sound and then the sudden sound of tiny feet pummelling down the stairs tells me the girls are on their way. I buzz the driver in and head to the door to pay the man before taking the three large pizzas and bottles of soda into the dining room and setting it on the table.

  Penny sits besides me at the table, a change from the usual chair opposite me and pours the
lemonade into the glasses I set out for us as I open the pizza boxes and put a slice of each one on the girls plates.

  I watch the two girls across from me. Taking in Ripley’s dark curls and hazel, gold eyes, framed by thick lashes, wide and doe like and then Ava’s honey coloured hair so similar to her moms it’s unreal and her ocean blue eyes that must be from her father. Other than that, she’s a spitting image of her mother, right down to the straight edge of her nose and ear shape.

  I love that the two girls are close, so close in fact that they’ve started finishing each other’s sentences.

  “Taron,” Ava wrinkles her nose, “What’s that?”

  She points down to her slice of pizza, directly at the piece of fruit plopped next to the ham.

  “Pineapple.” I tell her, taking a massive bite of my own pizza.

  “What?” Penny exclaims, “You put pineapple on pizza!”

  My eyebrows shoot up, “Uh, yeah?”

  “Who puts pineapple on pizza!?” Penny gasps, wrinkling her own nose and that resemblance between mother and daughter slams into me again. Jesus, Ava really is just a mini Penny.

  “Me,” I tell her, “It’s delicious.”

  “It is,” Ripley agrees, taking her own bite.

  I high five her over the table and grin at the disgusted faces of both Ava and Penny.

  “Just pick it off, baby,” Penny tells Ava, “We’re not weird like them.”

  I gasp in mock horror, “You offend me.”

  “Pineapple on pizza is weird.” Ava agrees with a firm nod.

  The rest of dinner is filled with jokes, but I learn more about Penny.

  I find out she loves iced tea, lemon preferably, and has a weakness for pastries, she likes her water ice cold, and her coffee milky with one sugar but will drink it how it comes, because caffeine.

  All of it, each little piece of information just adds to the pile of things I’m starting to love about Penny.

  Thirty-six

  Penny

  “I’ll do drop off with you,” Taron smiles as I walk through the door, briefly pressing his lips to my cheek. The innocent touch has warmth spreading right through me. A definite symptom of the heat he produced in me last night without even doing anything. I’ve been a mess since he pinned me against the wall and kissed the hell out of me.

  “You will?” I ask, heading straight to the kitchen to prepare the lunches.

  “Mm,” he nods, “Then we’ll head to the distillery together.”

  Oh right. The distillery. I was helping with the plan some more. After last night I had completely forgotten about it all.

  “Okay,” I agree, grabbing all the bits I need to make up the food.

  Once that’s done, I hand all the bags to both girls and follow them out to Taron’s truck.

  The drive over is in silence but it’s comfortable, companionable.

  I don’t like to admit it, but life has become so much easier since I met Taron. I have money in the bank thanks to the job he gave me, my days are filled and busy and all the worries I had when I first arrived sit more at the back of my mind rather than the front. They come to the front every so often, like with Carla but when I’m with him I don’t feel so vulnerable. I don’t feel worthless, not like I did before.

  It was stupid really. What people think and what they say shouldn’t affect me the way it does, but it does and anyone who says it doesn’t is lying. They may not show it on the surface but deep down, they are dwelling on those words you spat in anger or hate, they are repeating the harsh insults and venomous words wondering why and what they did to deserve it.

  Sticks and stones may break you bones.

  Words will definitely hurt me.

  What Carla did yesterday hurt. If I were still in my old town, if I hadn’t met Taron, I would still be dwelling on it. I would be repeating everything, replaying every moment I had spent with the woman wondering what I did wrong.

  But I realised something yesterday.

  There is nothing wrong with me.

  There is something wrong with them.

  People judged me. They judged me hard for the actions of someone else, they tarred me with the same brush unfairly and that’s their fault. Not mine.

  I am strong,

  I have a daughter that loves me unconditionally.

  And I have Taron.

  Don’t get me wrong, I don’t want the shit that happened in my past to be spread like wild fire, I have no idea how I’ll cope with it all but maybe I don’t need to be so afraid.

  No one knows me here. I can live a life here like the past never happened.

  I can pretend it never happened. I can pretend like I was never beaten by them. I have that power now.

  I reach over the central console and grasp Taron’s hand, rubbing my thumb across his knuckles, revelling in the look of our skin touching. His hard, calloused, working man hands against my softer ones.

  Opposite.

  But the same.

  He looks over to me, a frown pulling at those dark smudges for brows and I just smile at him. He smiles back, a smile that relaxes his features and softens his eyes.

  “Hey girls,” I call back into the back seat, “There’s something I want to talk to you about.”

  My belly erupts into butterflies at the thought of putting a name to what Taron and I were. Were we anything? Was I just assuming?

  No.

  “What?” Ava asks.

  “So, how do you feel about, maybe me dating Ripley’s daddy?”

  Ripley grins and Ava’s jaw drops.

  “Like dating?” Ava repeats, “Kissing?”

  “Dating,” I nod, avoiding the kissing comment.

  “But he’s a boy!” Ava gasps.

  I can’t help but laugh. Taron squeezes my hand, one brow cocked.

  “He is a boy,” I tell her, “And you can’t go near boys. Ever. But Taron’s okay, right? Even if he is just a boy.”

  “Well I guess,” Ava shrugs, “I like him.”

  “That’s good, baby,” I tell her, “I like him too.”

  That earns me another squeeze. All the while, Ripley’s remained quiet, her mouth curled into a smile.

  Finally, she speaks, “You make daddy smile. I like it when he smiles.”

  “You make daddy smile too,” I tell her, “And you make me smile.”

  She grins at this, “I’m okay with it.”

  “Me too.” Ava nods.

  “Okay,” I reach back and squeeze both their hands in turn just as we pull up to the school and park the truck.

  “Thank you,” Taron says quiet enough, so the girls don’t hear over their chatter in the back.

  “For what?”

  “Giving me the chance.”

  I lean over and kiss him, “It’s not a chance,” I tell him, “I trust you.”

  Those three words are a lot. Trust is earned. It’s easily broken. But I trust him with that, I trust that he won’t burn me.

  Maybe I trust him enough to tell him.

  We walk into the playground, not hand in hand but close enough that isn’t normal for a boss and their employee and we laugh as the girls play hopscotch.

  A small dark-haired boy runs over, and I stiffen, eyes darting around in search for his mother.

  “Don’t worry,” a female voice I recognise says behind me, “She isn’t here.”

  “Helen,” I breathe, “Hey.”

  She smiles kindly and then turns to Taron, “We haven’t officially met, I’m Helen, Ethan’s nanny.”

  “Taron,” he holds his hand out.

  “I know, Mr Cain, you’re the talk of the town. The local celebrity.” She chuckles and if I’m not mistaken, she blushes, a pink tinge rising in her cheeks.

  I don’t blame her. I’m still not used to how good looking the man is.

  “You know Penny?” There’s scepticism in his voice, no doubt put there by Carla.

  “I’m not like her,” she shakes her head, “I only work for her because that boy is
sweet and his father is also a very nice man.”

  “I didn’t think you were,” He says, “But why should Penny be worried if she were here?”