Whiskey and Country

“For what?”

“For being you.” My heart swelled and pushed against my ribs. Dahlia’s words streamed through me.

“Thank you for being you too. Entering your shop by mistake that day is the best thing that happened to me since I got here.” I breathed in air and courage. “Can I tell you something?”

Dahlia’s voice became a throaty whisper. “Yes.”

“I wish I could see you right now.”

Was she panting? “Open your video chat. I wanna see you too.”

“Hey,” I said when her face filled my screen.

Dahlia sat on her bed, holding her phone in one hand and her glass in the other. How much would I give right now to be able to kiss her? Just another kiss. To revive the ones we shared. And feel her warmth against my chest. And get lost in her green irises. Trace the curls of her hair between my fingers. Touch her. Hold her. Fuck her.

Uncomfortable on the couch, I moved to my bed, my phone resting against my folded legs, my glass in one hand and the other cupping my junk, the tightness in my crotch becoming unbearable.

“Do you believe in soulmates?” Dahlia asked, breaking the painful threads of my thoughts.

“Sure. I believe we’re all destined to be with someone for a reason nobody can explain. A force greater than us placing people on our road for a purpose. Why?”

“Because I’ve been asking myself this question a lot lately. Can someone have more than one soulmate in life? It’s silly.”

I searched her gaze through the small rectangular screen. “Dahlia, it’s not silly. If I were in your shoes, I’m sure I’d be asking myself the same question. I love when you’re offering me a window to your thoughts—to your soul.”

I would’ve given about anything to be able to hug her right now. And chase the doubts swimming in her eyes.

Silence fell between us, both lost in our own minds for a moment.

“What’s your favorite travel destination?” I asked, trying to get rid of the heaviness enveloping us.

“Why?” Dahlia bunched her eyebrows, and my fingertip traced over them on the screen.

“Because. I think people’s smallest preferences tell a lot about them.”

“New Zealand. Favorite food?”

“Chicken wings.”

“Sweet or spicy?”

“Spiciest, the best,” I said. “Favorite season?”

“Spring. Love how everything wakes up. Favorite sport?”

“If I’m playing, baseball. If I’m watching, hockey. Your middle name?”

“Elisabeth. Love this game. Yours?”

“Jake.”

Dahlia’s eyes flared. “Nah, you don’t look like a Jake. I much prefer Nicholas.”

The sound of my name—my full name—leaving her lips sent shivers up to the tip of my spine. Nobody except my mother—and strangers—called me this, and it had never sounded as sexy as coming from Dahlia’s mouth.

“Nick, thanks for doing this with me. Talking, sharing, laughing. Being a mother, sometimes it scares people away.”

I set my empty glass on the nightstand and turned to my side, my phone against a pillow and one arm folded under my head. “It would take a lot more than that to chase me away, Dahlia. I think it’s amazing that you’re a mom. I’d never see this as something negative. It’s part of who you are. Part of what makes you, you. What makes you amazing.”

A faint blush colored her cheeks.

“I have no idea where you come from, Nick Peterson—”

“Chicago,” I whispered, and Dahlia grinned.

“Now that I know you, if you didn’t exist, I would have to invent ya. I’m kind of a fan.”

The way the last word left her mouth with that southern drawl broke me in the most delicious way. All I craved now was to drive up there and kiss her senseless until neither of us could breathe on our own anymore. And then do nasty things to her. Because I remembered the taste of her lips and prayed every night to taste them again. And devour all of her right after.

“So, you’re telling me I have my own fan club now too?”

“And I’m the president. I’m not crazy, I swear,” she said, using the words we exchanged the day we met.

“First, don’t get ahead of yourself, woman. I’m sure there are things about me that would drive you nuts.”

Dahlia laughed. “I doubt it. I’ve learned a long time ago that people are complex individuals with many layers. But the truth lies within their hearts. That’s where you gotta aim. And in your case, your heart is pure gold. I’m a good judge of character. Don’t try to sell yourself short.” She stared at me, her tongue sweeping her lower lip. “Tell me something annoying about you. I’ll tell you if it’s that bad.” She arched a brow, challenging me with her eyes. Damn, I loved how her power over me got me to confess all my sins to her.

“I hate lies. My temper usually comes from people telling me half-truths or lying to my face. And I hate when things get chaotic. It drives me insane, and I withdraw into myself until I straight them up.”

“If those are your flaws, then we’re good.” Dahlia yawned, and I followed suit.

“You tired?” I looked at the time. “Whoa, it’s already past midnight. Where did the time go?”

“A little, but I don’t wanna hang up. I like our middle-of-the-night talk. Feels like I know you better. In a more intimate kind of way.” With my finger, I touched her lips over the screen. “I enjoy you being my friend tonight.”

“Anytime.”

Dahlia’s voice grew warm and steady. “After Jeff passed away, I’ve made it my mission to end my days telling people I care about how important they are to me.” Her eyes turned glossy in the dim light. “It’s something I have to do. I never got a chance to tell him those words or to hear them from him.”

My throat worked.

A truckload of emotions knotted around my stomach and rattled my heart.

“I know what you mean. Been there too.” I pinched my lips together, containing my emotional overload from blowing up. The last time I went to see Derek, he slept the entire few hours I was there, and I never got a chance to tell him one last time how important he had been to me. “I’m glad we found each other.”

Through the screen, we gazed for a long moment. I spoke the words lingering on the tip of my tongue.

“Dahlia Ellis, you’re passionate and strong. And fearless in your convictions. Your energy is soothing. I’m sure everyone around you feels loved.”

She locked her eyes on mine.

“Nick, there’s something about ya. A vulnerability. I’m not sure what it is, but it’s there. I sense it.” She paused. “Not a lot of people reflect the wisdom you possess. It’s a great quality. You left everything you’ve ever known behind to start afresh. That’s very brave of you. You should be proud of yourself for being strong when you could have been weak.”

“Guess we both ran away when things got too tough.”

She shrugged. “You and I, we both had two choices. Stay and be miserable and haunted by our past. Or leave, raise from ashes, and wish for something new. Something better. We’re very much alike.”

“I wouldn’t say my level of courage equals yours, though.”

“Having a broken heart isn’t a competition. We each dealt the best we could when facing pain. For what it’s worth, I’m glad you left Chicago.”

Something twisted in my stomach.

I didn’t want to let her go. I wanted to hold on to her for a little longer.

“Me too.”

We contemplated each other. Something passed between us. Fascination. Understanding. Interest. And flakes of lust too.

I was right when I told her the day we met I’d known her for a long time.

Right here, right now, it felt like our souls were living a journey of their own. As if they had to connect. Because they could understand each other. They could learn from each other. And heal together.

I cleared my throat. “Now go to sleep. I’m here, and I’ll watch over you.”