Whiskey and Country

28

NICHOLAS

“Can we talk?” I asked Dahlia a few days later as Jack busied himself with Buddy, rolling on the lawn after dinner as we sat on the deck. The sound of the boy’s laughter healed parts of my heart, a little more each time, and I had to force my eyes off him.

Dahlia leaned over the table and grabbed my hand in hers and quirked an eyebrow.

My pulse quickened at her sight. We hadn’t had a chance to be alone since the night we made out on her sofa like horny teenagers. I couldn’t wait for take two, but she had responsibilities as a mother and business owner, and they added to her charm.

I mirrored her stance and kissed her lips.

Something quieted in me. A voice. A feeling of calm.

For a long minute, we stared at each other. Until I could define that new sensation in me. My pulse didn’t even hasten at the thought of it. No. Because it felt right. And about damn time.

I exhaled. “There’s a reason I left Chicago. You already know about my friend who passed away.” She nodded, a tiny wrinkle marring her forehead. “His death took a toll on me. For many reasons. Anyway, one night, I received a delivery. Something Derek put together for me. A letter. Stuff he loved. And somehow, as I was searching for the meaning of life, surfing on my grief, his words spoke to me. In a strange way, it was as if he wanted me to go on a self-discovery journey or something. As if he planned the entire thing. And he knew I belonged elsewhere.”

I swallowed and tightened my grip on Dahlia’s hand.

“I ended up seeing the ocean first. Met a nice woman and her little girl. Their hospitality touched me. I patched their roof while they helped me patch my broken heart. Some of it, at least. A week later, I left and ended up meeting an old couple by the side of the road, arguing about a flat tire. And after I helped them out, I spent three weeks working alongside them at their ranch. None of it was planned. It just happened. As if Derek was pushing me toward an ultimate goal. An endgame I couldn’t really see at the time.”

I shook my head, smiling at the memory of it all.

“Mike told Tucker about the job here, and the next thing I knew, I was agreeing to move to Green Mountain. For a longer period of time than I imagined I would at first. But something in me whispered it was the right decision. That I had to do this. And now that I’m here with you, it feels like my instincts were right—”

Dahlia’s fingers brushed my hair back, lingering on the side of my chin as she watched me.

“There’s this list. How can I explain it?”

A curve graced her lips, and the tension in me eased.

“Well, Derek made it before he passed away. Some sort of bucket list. Or more like a ‘Things he wished he had experienced in his life’ list, as he called it. Somehow, it became our common bucket list. It was in the package I received.” I closed my lids for a split second and cleared my throat. “Derek was twelve when he died. Cancer.”

Dahlia’s sharp intake of breath vibrated through me. Her hand squeezed mine, offering me support. And a listening ear.

“Nick, I’m sorry. It’s devastating.” Her gaze shifted to her son, and she watched him for a minute, her eyes full of softness. And love. And unshed tears. “I can’t imagine—”

I started speaking to avoid falling into the chasm of my grief and memories.

“Anyway, when I left on my big journey, I set myself a target, to check everything on it and to add some of mine. That’s why I drove to the coast. Many things I can’t explain happened since I left my hometown, and for some reason, they often matched the list. Go figure. Anyway, there’s something I haven’t done yet and think we could do together. The three of us.”

Dahlia’s eyes lit up. “What is it?”

“Okay. I don’t know if you like the outdoors, but I thought about it. A lot. And I’m sure Greta wouldn’t object to Buddy having a sleepover.”

“Nick, tell me what it is.”

“Derek, my friend, wanted to go camping, to sleep under the stars. Jack is little, and I’d never ask you to bring him into the woods with bears and wild animals out there. And no way would Buddy survive the trek.” My gaze shifted to the old bloodhound, panting next to Jack, as the boy hugged him and whispered in his ear. “What if I build us a platform? Nothing fancy, but some sort of stage, and we could add inflatable mattresses and sleeping bags, and camp here. Under the stars,” I said, surveying the backyard. “We could light a campfire and roast marshmallows or have S’mores and even cook dinner or whatever. What do you think?”

Dahlia’s irises glinted with thousands of stars.

“Ohmygod, this would be so much fun. I haven’t gone camping in forever. I’m not even sure I remember when the last time was.” Her eyes darkened, and something passed in them. She closed her lids and swallowed. When she glanced back at me, whatever the resurfaced memory was, it had already faded.

I flipped my hand under hers, and she knitted her fingers with mine.

I leaned forward and tipped her chin until our eyes locked together. “Whatever it is, you can talk to me. I know you had it all before me. And I’m okay with it. It’s part of who you are. I’m just happy that we’ve found each other now.”

A lone tear rolled down her cheek, and I caught it with my thumb. We got lost in each other for a moment before I stood and circled the table.

“Come here,” I said, sitting on a vacant chair and pulling her to my lap. With Dahlia nestled in my arms, we watched Jack running around, Buddy puffing, too tired to follow him.

I could get used to this.

More than I ever thought was possible.

A simple life with the people dear to my heart. Love. And family.

My arms fastened around Dahlia’s waist as she rested her head on my shoulder.

“Thank you for being you,” she said, cocking her head until our mouths fused. “And I’d like to go camping with you. It sounds fun. As a teen, I used to love stargazing and making out. Would it be allowed?”

“Absolutely. It’s mandatory,” I said, kissing the tip of her nose. “Next weekend. It’s a date. Do you have sleeping bags and stuff like that?”

“Nah. But I’m on it. Build that stage and I’ll take care of the gear.”

“You sure?”

She nodded. “Yeah. Jack and I will go shopping sometime next week.” She brought her attention to her son, now running in our direction, his friend snoozing in the shadow of a tree. “Baby, we must go soon. I have a long day tomorrow at the store.”

“Not going. Stay with NickandBuddy,” Jack said, folding his arms over his chest.

Dahlia squatted before him. “I know, baby. You still have a little time before saying goodbye. Next week, we’ll go camping together. The four of us.”

“Buddy no camping. Silly.”

“He will come. Nick will make sure he can sleep with you. But you must be a good boy. Do you think Buddy prefers marshmallows or hotdogs?” she asked, tickling her son’s tummy.

“Buddy doggy, Mama. No people food. Doggy food, Nicksaid. You funny.” He grimaced. “Buddy don’t like hontdogs.”

Dahlia nuzzled his neck and kissed him on the crown of his head.

“You’re right. What was I thinking? We’ll find doggy treats for him then. Does it sound better?”

Jack bobbed his head with so much energy I feared it would fall off and hurried toward the now snoring animal.

Dahlia and I busied ourselves cleaning up the table and filling the dishwasher inside.

“Before I go, kiss me,” she ordered, her voice raw and overflowing with lust. Her arms looped around my neck, her soft breast pressing against my chest and sending so many signals to my dick as our tongues danced together. “I’ve missed you.”

With both hands, I pushed her hair away from her face, wanting to look at every inch of her.

“I’m sorry I’ve been so busy lately,” she said.