Faithful (Whiskey Run 1)

She’s looking all around the room, her mouth hanging open. “This is, wow, this is amazing.”

I try to look at it from her perspective. The floor is carpeted in a thick ivory beige, which Carrie hates. She has to have the cleaners come at least once a month to clean it. The furniture is big, dark chocolate wood. The couch is huge and takes up most of the room. The wall hangings are ones that I had specially painted of my favorite spots on my ranch. But probably the centerpiece of the whole room is the big screen television hanging from the ceiling. I spared no expense on this room because it’s where I am most of the time when I’m home. “Thanks, sugar. I’m glad you like it.”

She sits down on the couch and starts to fidget. “Austin, what am I doing here?”

I sit down next to her and wrap my hand around her knee. “I was sort of hoping you’re here because you wanted to be here.”

“I do. I mean, I wanted to make sure you were all right. I should go.”

I laugh and put my hands on her waist when she tries to get up. She falls back to the couch in a huff. “This is crazy. I don’t belong here.”

“I say you do.” I give her one of my charming smiles, but she’s still stubbed up and looking uncomfortable.

“Look, I’m going crazy here. My doctor says to rest, and I’m willing to do that since you’re here with me. We’ll eat. We’ll watch some TV. We’ll get to know each other.”

I try to adjust how I’m sitting and wince as I feel my ribs catch. I suck in a deep breath of air and try to readjust. “Are you okay?” she asks worriedly.

“Yeah. I’m fine,” I tell her with bated breath. I try to smile, but I know it’s only a grimace that appears on my face.

The only saving grace for being in pain is the fact that it looks like I might get some sympathy from Millie. She grabs my plate off the coffee table and holds it out to me. “Here you go. Eat.”

I take the plate, and she picks up the remote and turns the television on. “What do you want to watch?”

“I don’t care,” I tell her, staring at her from the side. I want to reach out and push the hair behind her ear. I want her eyes on me, but I know I need to work up to it.

She laughs. “I’ve never known a man not to care what’s on TV. As a matter of fact, I’m surprised you even let me hold the remote.”

I’m torn. I want to ask her about the other men in her life but just the same, I don’t want to know either. “Things like that don’t matter to me. Plus, I’d rather watch you than the television.”

She jerks her head toward me, and the surprise that lights up her face is evident. She’s blushing, and in this moment, I know she’s the prettiest woman I’ve ever seen. “Get your food and eat.”

She grabs her plate, and instead of eating on the coffee table, she sits back and holds it in her lap. We’re right next to each other. I can feel the warmth of her thigh pressed against my leg, and a calm comes over me. The last few days have been filled with stress, from blurry vision, headaches, my ribs and knee, I’ve been a downright asshole. But now that she’s here, it’s like everything is right in the world.

She eats slowly while I scarf down the sandwich, chips, and apple slices. When I’m done, I set the plate on the table and lean back with my water. She seems self-conscious, so I try to act like I’m watching television instead of completely aware of everything she’s doing.

When she finishes, she stands up and grabs our plates. “No, it’s fine. Leave them.”

She walks a few steps. “Give me just a few minutes, and I’ll be right back.”

She isn’t gone long, and when she comes back she sits at the far end of the couch. I laugh.

“What’s so funny?”

“You. Really, you think putting space between us is going to stop what’s happening between us?”

She lifts her chin. “I don’t know what you mean.”

I slide across the cushions and trap her into the arm of the couch. “Yes, you do. For whatever reason, you’re questioning all of this. Why I want you here. If you should trust me. And well, I’m glad you’re asking those questions because just the fact that you’re wondering about them tells me that there’s hope for me. I’m not going to let you down, sugar.”

She rolls her eyes. “There’s that name again.”

I put my finger under her chin and bring her head up. “You like it. You know you do.”