Whiskey Girl

by Adriane Leigh

  Hell, something about her touch lit a fire in my bones.

  Swear I would die a happy man as long as I was in this woman’s arms.

  Where I wouldn’t like to die at all was saving this woman as she swan-dived off a cliff face.

  Something about Augusta Belle and adrenaline went hand in hand.

  “Looks pretty fucking high from this vantage point,” I found myself mumbling a few miles later.

  We were still driving up the dusty trail that led to the parking area when she squealed, pointing out my window as we both watched a brave swimmer launch themselves over the cliff.

  I shuddered when he smacked the water.

  “You’re insane.”

  “Just keep driving. It looks amazing.”

  “You’re the stubbornest woman I’ve ever known.”

  “Thought I was the saddest?” She shot me a wild, heart-stopping grin.

  “I’m revising my opinion.”

  “Convenient.” She arched an eyebrow in challenge, and just as I was about to pull her across the seat and dive lips-first into her, she was pushing open the door and waving me on with her.

  I shook my head, following her out of the parking lot and down the dirt path that led to the edge of the cliff.

  She pulled her T-shirt over her head, triangles of a small black bikini peeking out at me.

  She’d filled out a helluva lot since the last time I’d seen her in a bathing suit, and I liked it. Her soft curves begged for my fingertips, my teeth, all the love I had to spoil her with.

  She pushed down her jeans, one leg at a time, before tossing them at me. “Hold my pants?”

  I couldn’t help the laugh, eyes crinkling up before she blew me a kiss and spun, walking on confident steps to the edge of the cliff. She smiled at the few kids lingering around the edge, hanging out and watching as she hovered, taking in the water, imagining the drop, before she turned, throwing me a wink and then taking a few steps back before sprinting toward the edge. My heart suspended in midair, and my breath caught in my throat when she went over.

  I’d seen her do this a hundred times over the years, but nothing ever prepared me for the moment she went over, free-falling into the abyss without any safety net to catch her.

  I didn’t like it, but I was proud as hell of her every time she did it.

  I wasn’t man enough to confront my fears as head on as she did.

  “She’s cool as shit,” one of the kids mused, nodding at me.

  I nodded. “Even cooler, man. I can’t keep up.”

  He took me in with his eyes, my worn dark jeans with holes, tattered to the threads. Tattoos swallowing my hands and boots not meant for the Southern sun. But it didn’t seem to matter to him, and Augusta Belle certainly didn’t give a fuck about the way I looked.

  Or at least, she’d never expressed a concern about it before. But walkin’ into any hotel we’d been to the last few days, anyone in their right mind probably thought I’d stolen her from the hand of God himself.

  She was all sweet and soft and innocent porcelain features, the light to my dark all day long, and yet she was stronger than I could ever hope to be.

  I waved at the kids, taking off down the trail that led to the water’s edge to find my girl and congratulate her on one stellar jump.

  I met her at the shore just as she was climbing out, cold water dripping off her body, a gigantic smile spreading her round cheeks.

  “That was incredible. You should try it.”

  I wrapped my jacket around her shoulders, as concerned she’d catch a cold as much as I was of someone seeing her in a suit so damn small. “I’m super-good with living, thanks.”

  She shook her head, pressing up on her toes and planting a kiss on my lips. “Thanks for bringing me.”

  “Your lips on mine is all the thanks I need.”

  Her cheeks turned a warm shade of crimson before I led her into the sunlight, the flat face of a giant boulder the perfect place for us to spread out. I stripped out of my shirt, laying it down on the rock before settling us both back onto it, my arms cradling her from the rough edges.

  “So did you go to school for swimming?”

  She looked up, surprise etched on her face. “No. No pool at the school I was at, so it wasn’t even an option.”

  I thought of her parents and all they’d taken away from her that night.

  And then I thought of all they may have given her.

  I didn’t think I was in a place to give her anything—I hardly was now, but there was no doubt I wasn’t then.

  My mind trailed back to all the nights after the fire I’d had to help my dad in and out of bed, feed him his medication, and help him with therapy. My sister and I had taken on the job full time, and it’d nearly sunk both of us.

  No way could I have been there for her in those moments.

  “You know the song about the old willow?” she whispered, voice warm with sun and memories.

  “Yeah.” I traced circles along her bare shoulder, fingertips dipping in and out of the little black bikini strap that held the triangles in place.

  “What made you write that one?”

  I heaved a breath, remembering the night in Nashville I’d drained a bottle of cheap rye and wrote my heart out, furious tears in my eyes as the music torched every raw nerve. “That one’s about my dad, actually.”

  She stayed silent for long beats, one china-white calf contrasted against the dark of my jeans as she pondered what to say next. “I really like that one.”

  I nodded, waiting long moments before adding, “He never went to church, so the pastor wouldn’t give him a proper service, but he did offer to speak if I found a burial site. Turns out a person should be a part of a community to be buried in one.” I shrugged. “No one wants a drifter.”

  The words hung thick between us.

  “So I found the only place in all of Tennessee I decided I wouldn’t mind seein’ again. Under that old willow at the back of the field we used to go to.”

  Tears welled up in her troubled eyes before she spoke. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there. I think that’s the greatest regret I have.”

  “Ah, Augusta Belle, life’s too short to fuss about regrets.” I swallowed my own ball of regret fighting to consume me.

  “S’pose we should get back on the road,” I breathed, eyes shuttering closed under the warm sunlight.

  “Want me to drive for a while?” she offered, clasping our fingers together and doing her best to pull me off the rock.

  I gave in, stretching as I stood up, her small little arms locking around my waist and holding me in a tight hug.

  My measured breaths seemed to soothe her as our chests moved in sync, my hands working into the long, wet locks of her hair as my chin hovered just above the crown of her head. “Honey and peaches, damn I missed that smell.”

  Her arms locked a little tighter around my waist, fingertips digging into the flesh under my T-shirt as soft sobs began a slow shake of her shoulders.

  “You okay?” I whispered at her ear, feeling a torrent of shivers race through her body when my body drifted so close to hers.

  “Better than okay.” She sniffed once, and I wiped at a tear lingering on her cheek. “Just wish we wouldn’t have lost so much time.”

  “Ah.” I smiled. “There you go with regrets again.” I unpretzled our bodies, threading our fingers, and heading back the way we’d come. “Best thing I learned over the last decade was livin’ in the moment is the only life worth livin’.” We reached my truck, and I helped her into the passenger side, giving her a peck on the lips when I could steal it. “I’m all about takin’ this, whatever this is between us, one day at a time. That all right with you, sunshine?”

  Her grin split open before she tugged at the collar of my shirt, pulling me in and locking her ankles around my waist. “That sounds fantastic.”

  I pushed my lips against hers, splitting the seam as our tongues worked together, hands spreading across bare skin as we ate up the
sunshine pulsing between us. I slid my hands around her waist, hiking her farther up the front seat and following up after her, pulling the door closed behind me, locking my lips with hers again.

  Her fingertips worked across my neck, slipping under my shirt and sending pulses of raw need throbbing between my legs.

  “We need to get to Jackson.” I could hear the barely veiled restraint in my own voice.

  “Let’s just camp out here.” Her tone lowered an octave, sweeter than honey.

  “Christ, Augusta Belle.” I worked my hips between her damp thighs, grinding down on my back teeth as I thought about puppies and Grandma’s fried liver and any other damn thing I could manage, to keep myself reined in at this moment.

  It’d been so fucking long.

  All I could think about was what would happen if I hurt her.

  “Don’t stop,” she whispered at my neck, her lips touching my skin.

  “Fuck,” I breathed, everything inside of me wantin’ inside of her at that moment.

  “Please.” She arched her hips, her hand drawing mine up to knead at the heavy flesh of her breast.

  “Everything in me is sayin’ take you right now, Augusta Belle,” I murmured at her earlobe. “But trust me when I say you don’t know what you’re asking for.”

  She pushed her nails into my skin, making me wince as she wiggled around underneath me, driving me a little more insane with every damn movement. “I’m ready.”

  I laughed. “You act brave, sweet bird.” My nose danced across the angle of her jawline, her nipples sharpening beneath the triangles of her swimsuit. “Care to tell me why your heartbeat is flickering faster than a hummingbird’s wings at your throat?”

  Perfect white teeth sank into the aroused flesh of her lips as the tiniest of moans breezed past.

  I slammed my eyes closed, needing to erase the face she made when she was so turned on she was about to combust under my hands. “Sing louder, pretty bird.”

  She swallowed, gaze flickering on mine when I dragged my aroused length along her seam. Soft shudders coursed through every muscle in her body before she clamped down on my shoulder, hips rocking in a silent rhythm to mine before I ducked my head, clasping my lips at the soft outline of one pert nipple and sucking.

  Low, serrated gasps fell from her lips before she was moaning once, twice, a third time louder until I angled myself a little deeper, sucking her sweet, damp flesh into my mouth a little harder. She was shuddering and moaning and heaving desperate pants of air against my chest.

  “Fuck, you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

  Tiny little tears formed at the corners of her eyes before she loosened her fingertips on my shoulders and came back down to earth, eyes finally focusing on mine.

  I didn’t know what she was thinking in that moment. I couldn’t even put a finger on exactly what I was thinkin’, but I felt it.

  Whatever was passing between us was supercharged. Somethin’ words could only cheapen.

  She was silky and sensual, smoky on the lips, warm on the tongue, smooth on the way down.

  She was whiskey.

  And I was hooked.

  TWENTY-ONE

  Fallon

  “That was the longest ride of my life, almost literally.” She flopped onto the bed, backpack flying beside her.

  “Almost literally?” I tossed my wallet and keys onto the nearest surface and fell into the massive king with her.

  A king room was the last they had, but she’d taken to sleepin’ at my side all night anyway, so the extra bed we’d had before now was always a waste. It was odd, how quickly I started adjusting to her presence, accommodating her needs, thinking of her before myself.

  Wasn’t used to that at all, but being with Augusta Belle was just so easy.

  She held up her phone, punching in the password for the Wi-Fi before opening one of her many social media apps. I watched her scroll mindlessly before a notification popped up that she had 99+ new friend requests.

  “What the hell?” She frowned. “I don’t recognize any of these people.”

  She gnawed on her bottom lip, and hell if I didn’t want to be the one gnawing on it right now. I flipped onto my side, running a hand up her ankle, sliding my fingers to the tender spot under her knees before creeping up her inner thigh.

  “Holy shit, Fallon.”

  I grinned, adding a second hand to her other thigh, ready as fuck to continue the path we’d been on earlier.

  “Fallon, look.” She turned her screen around, thrusting it in my face.

  “I can’t read that shit. Gives me a headache.” I ducked, nipping at the outside of her knee, dragging a tongue across the elegant indent that always made her squirm.

  “Fallon, I don’t think you’re getting this right now, but we’re front page on TMZ.”

  My hands fell, eyes slamming closed as I fell back into a world I’d escaped not long enough ago.

  “What the fuck?” I pulled the phone from her outstretched hand, scrolling the bullshit text of what they claimed was a breaking story, that ex-country rocker Fallon Gentry had found his whiskey girl again.

  I winced.

  “They have my name, Fallon.”

  I attempted swallowing the lump clogging my throat. “Saw that.”

  “What if they start digging into my past, what if they find out about my parents and us and just…everything?”

  “They will,” I muttered, pushing myself off the bed, eyes on the minibar instantly.

  My fingers twitched, a slow ache settling at the base of my skull that I couldn’t shake.

  Jim Beam. Jack Daniel’s. Maybe a local oak-aged. I wondered what a place like this would offer in the minibar. Probably just vodka. I’d have to hit the nearest liquor store if that was the case.

  I groaned, realizing that old train of thought was eating up my insides again.

  I hadn’t had a drop of whiskey since Augusta Belle’d walked back into my life.

  Well, almost. There had been that bender, but hell if I could do that again.

  I heaved a breath, tortured by what to even offer next. “They have your name, so we’re pretty much fucked.” I pushed a hand through my hair and stalked across the room. “Shoulda expected this. It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have let you up onstage that first night in Memphis. It was too much publicity. Hell, give ’em another day, and they’ll be down here with boom microphones in our faces.”

  Augusta Belle’s eyes watered as she sat cross-legged on the bed, eyes fixed on the screen in her hands, fingers already trembling. “I can’t let that happen.”

  “It already is, sunshine.” The endearment I’d called her earlier didn’t have quite the same ring as it had hours ago.

  “No, Fallon.” Her irises widened, and she pressed up on her knees until she was eye level with me, inching closer until her hands were within reach. “That can’t happen.”

  “I know it’s gonna suck, believe me, been there. But we’ll get through it. Maybe get you a wig or something. And no more singing onstage, all that…sexual chemistry just attracts them like honeybees.” I held her wrists, preparing to pepper them with reassuring kisses when she yanked them away and leaped off the bed.

  She shook her head back and forth, eyes sliding everywhere around the room but on me. “What if they find out about—” She pulled out her backpack, tearing out some papers she had and perusing them quickly. “I wonder if there’s any other documentation…”

  “Oh, if there’s documentation, they’ll find it.” I hovered over her shoulder, planting a hand on the dip of her spine in the hopes of calming her.

  “No, Fallon, no! You don’t understand.” She finally looked up, her eyes wet with tears and terror that stole all the breath from my fucking lungs.

  “What, Augusta Belle? What’s wrong?” I slid a hand into her hair, my palm at the back of her soft neck.

  “There’s more.” She swallowed. “There’s one more thing I haven’t told you about.”

 
I nodded, unable to form a word, trying to blink some sort of silent signal to encourage her on, but the truth was, I didn’t think I wanted her to.

  I wasn’t sure I was ready for whatever else she was about to tell me.

  “I spent so many nights crying, so many nights wondering what I could have done different. I could hardly eat. Missing you was the darkest time of my life, Fallon.” She wrung her hands, swallowing again before her eyes darted from my gaze to my lips and back again. “I missed you so much those first few weeks at school…” Fresh tears tracked down her cheeks. “I didn’t even know I was pregnant.”

  TWENTY-TWO

  Augusta—Nine Years Ago

  Tears of pain cut quietly down my cheeks as I winced, trying not to squirm as the doctor pressed apart my thighs, encouraging me to relax.

  “This will only take a minute, sweetheart.”

  I cringed at his term of endearment, wishing the nurse was at least still in here with me, someone to make me feel not so alone on this cold hospital bed, feet in stirrups.

  “Have you seen the baby move yet?” He grinned, popping out from behind the sheet covering my lower half.

  I swallowed razors and squeaked, “No.”

  “Should be any time, most women see an elbow or a foot pop out over the last few weeks.”

  I swallowed again, fear spinning through my stomach as I wished like hell he was here with me.

  Fallon.

  After each girl was enrolled at Sacred Heart for four weeks, a customary blood test was taken.

  A test that checked for a lot of things: diseases, disorders, pregnancy.

  And that’s when I’d found out.

  Not wrapped in Fallon’s arms, our eyes shedding happy tears as we planned our lives together.

  But 500 miles away in the middle of nowhere, all alone.

  There were other girls who were pregnant. Apparently, it wasn’t uncommon, considering many of the girls who showed up at Sacred Heart came from a sketchy past. This was usually their last resort before juvenile detention.