Whiskey and Country

“Miss Country?”

Willis offered me a pointed look. “Carter Hills’s girl. Dahlia Ellis. Someone was at Freddy’s Bowling a few nights ago and said you two looked cozy together. And my neighbor saw you hanging out with her at her store opening party. You should be careful, man. Carter Hills is known for his temper. I wouldn’t dare to play with his toys. My cousin saw him punch a photographer once. All in town know Miss Country is Hills’s property. Nobody in their right mind here will ever ask her out, except if they have a death wish. No wonder she’s still single. So sad, the poor girl is quite a catch. Always smiling and being nice to everyone.”

My glass hit the bar top with a loud thud.

“Whoa, can you repeat that? I believe my hearing is messed up. C’mon, are you being serious right now?”

Both guys nodded. “Only someone from out of town would risk dating her,” Dean said. “Keep that dick of yours in your pants, Nick. Just sayin’. Take the advice. Or don’t.”

I moved my hands up between us.

“Geez. You guys are talking nonsense. This isn’t the eighteenth century anymore. Women don’t belong to men.” Why did I feel like I had to defend Dahlia and Carter’s relationship with these idiots who believed rumors instead of seeking the truth? I sat right there with them. Why didn’t they ask? “Dahlia and I are friends. True. That’s all. Don’t feel obligated to print it in the newspaper or tell the entire town. We enjoy each other’s company. True. The last I checked, it wasn’t a crime.”

“Just saying, Nick, you should be careful. I—”

My phone chimed, and I welcomed the distraction.

Dahlia: I was thinking. I’m home alone. Are you free?

Dahlia: No pressure. I just thought I should ask. In case you’re alone too and are looking for something to do.

I forgot all about what Willis and Dean said as I typed back.

Me: I was having a drink with guys from work. But I’m done here.

Me: What are you up to?

Dahlia: Night in or night out?

After what the guys just told me, the temptation to go out seemed like a great way to get those gossip kings and queens to shut their mouths, but I decided against it. Night in it would be. I didn’t feel like feeding the rumor mills. And like an egotistical jerk, I relished the idea of having Dahlia all to myself.

Me: Night in. Pick a movie. I’ll take care of the rest. Be there in fifteen.

I fished a twenty from my wallet and placed it in the middle of the counter. “Guys, gotta go.” They waved at me, now busy watching a game on the TV mounted behind the bar. “Please stay away from rumors.” I winked and left, all that nonsense making me smile.

With a giant bag of popcorn in hand and a six-pack, I rang Dahlia’s doorbell.

Dressed in silver cotton pants and a long-sleeved white tee, her face bare and her hair tied at the top of her head in some messy knot women always sported, Dahlia looked mesmerizing when she let me in.

I leaned in to kiss her cheeks after she took the snack from me, etching her scent into my memory. And loving how peaceful it made me feel.

“How was your day?” I asked, placing the crate of beer on the kitchen counter.

“Great.”

I returned her enticing smile.

“How was your happy hour with the guys?”

I shrugged. “Okay, I guess.”

My eyes traveled around the main floor of the house as I followed Dahlia across the family room, two bottles hanging from my fingers. White walls with Jack’s art pieces framed on them, maple hardwood floors, a toy chest in a corner, and a playmat in the middle of the room. Every detail reminded me of Dahlia. Simple and elegant. With a touch of warmth.

The house wasn’t big. But it was decorated with care.

We entered the living room. It had high ceilings and a small fireplace with a screen mounted over it.

The oversized L-shaped couch took almost the entire opposite wall. A fluffy colorful rug under a coffee table occupied the space in between, its shades matching the decorative pillows.

A large window filled the third wall, offering a view of the side yard.

“I love what you’ve done with the place,” I said.

“It was a model house when I bought it three years ago. I didn’t have the energy or will to renovate an existing house or build one. It’s home. And I like it. But it misses the old farmhouse charm I had always pictured myself living in. There’s not a lot of history between these walls. Only the ones we’ve created and it’s okay, but I love old houses. Their walls can tell stories. Those that came before you lived in it and the others, long after you’re gone.” She shrugged. “This house is the first one I’ve bought on my own. It means something to me. It’s our home for now, and I’m grateful for it. But I don’t think it to be my forever home. We’ll see how it goes.”

We sat side by side, a respectable distance between us, on the large couch.

“Why did you move here? You know, when it all went to shit. Why not stay close to your family?”

Dahlia grabbed the beer bottle I handed her after I twisted the cap off. “Carter and I used to play at Green Mountain Fest every fall when we were teens. And again, after we reached stardom. I’ve always felt at home here. There’s something about this town that calls to me. It’s bigger than me. I can’t explain it. When I left White Crest, it wasn’t even an option not to come here. I love everything about Green Mountain. It’s my place in this world. Somehow, I’ve always known it.”

“Yeah. It’s growing on me, and I’ve been here about three weeks. I spend way too much time looking at the mountains from my deck. The view is spectacular. And peaceful.”

“You should see Carter’s cabin. It’s atop a mountain, about three miles from here. It’s huge, and the view is magnificent. When he bought the lot, he offered me the chance to move up there, next to him. To build a cabin of my own. But I love it here. And I like my independence more than anything. He’s a bit overprotective, so the distance is good.”

I angled my upper body toward her. “Can I ask you a personal question?”

Dahlia tucked her legs under her and turned to face me.

“Sure. As long as it’s not too personal,” she replied with a wink.

“Why aren’t you two dating? I saw the way he looked at you the other night. You two have history.” And people in town believe you belong together, but that I wouldn’t tell her. Not yet at least.

Dahlia’s face turned somber. She blinked, chasing away a memory or something.

“It’s hard to explain. Even Carter doesn’t seem to get it most of the time.”

She sighed, bringing her beer to her mouth and taking a big gulp, my eyes transfixed at the sight of her lips closing around the neck of the bottle.

“I love Cart. With everything I have. And I know I always will. He’s been my person for as long as I can remember. But not in a romantic kind of way. At fifteen, I thought for a moment I was in love with him. Until I fell for Jeff. Hard. Then I knew what I felt for Carter was a different kind of love. Brotherlike.” She shrugged. “We’re not meant to be together this way. Carter loves me. I know he does. But I’m not the one for him, and I hope one day he’ll finally understand and see what I’ve been telling him for years. That life will prove to him he has a special someone who’s not me.”

I studied her as she said those words.

No, Dahlia wasn’t in love with Carter Hills. But my gut wasn’t wrong when I assumed he was madly in love with her. How could any guy in his right mind not fall under her charm? It wasn’t even about the fame. She genuinely cared for the people she loved. I witnessed it at her store opening every time she interacted with her friends. And strangers. Dahlia Ellis possessed a pure soul. One that drew people in.

She pressed play on the TV remote, and halfway through the movie, she scooted closer, sinking her body into mine, as if she belonged there. By my side. As if she required my warmth. And my closeness. It felt like the most natural thing in the world. She and I, spending time together, our bodies molded to each other.

The credits rolled on the screen, and she tilted her head to stare at me, my arm still draped over her shoulder. My heart flipped in my chest. I wasn’t ready for us to break apart. And her lips enticed me. Again. I had no idea how to be indifferent to anything Dahlia Ellis.

“Wanna go for a walk?” she asked.

“Sure. But there’s no streetlight. It might be a bit dark.”

Her face lit up with mischief. And adventure. “Nope. I have everything we need. Follow me.”

She fetched two headlamps from a drawer.

“You serious?”

She bobbed her head, like Jack did so many times the other night. “Come on, it’ll be fun.”

With drinks in hand and our flashlights on, we strolled down the street. Dahlia slid her free palm into mine, and fingers intertwined, she gave me a tour of her neighborhood.

“Do you miss Chicago?”

“Honest answer?”

“Always.”