Bourbon Runaway (Bourbon Canyon)

by Walker Rose

Jonah Dunn. The older brother of the boy I’d dated in high school, the one whose mom had crocheted my favorite blanket.

She fit her name. Bold. Bright. Sunshine. The embodiment of confidence and happiness. As a kid, she’d been bossy, opinionated, and stubborn. Time might’ve polished her, but her edges couldn’t be dulled.

I couldn’t tell her I went to town more often than she thought. She’d ask why and things would get awkward. A guy got tired of his hand.

“I’m going to judge,” I said to goad her.

I never thought I’d find comfort in Jonah Dunn.

The level of willing I’d been—to drop everything and bring Summer to the safety of my house—burrowed into my conscience.

Touch one Kerrigan, you riled the whole sister nest. A guy in town had multiple slashed tires to show for it.

I’d never regret stepping in. I might regret bringing her to my place.

“What do you think I do all day out here?” I lifted a shoulder. “Mountain-man stuff?” His expression remained unreadable. “Yep.”

I had no business being attracted to him. None. I never had. Yet it had never stopped me.

I wanted to see her smile. I wanted to hear her laugh. It’d been so damn long since I’d heard her laugh.

If I was the one who’d put out her fire, I’d never forgive myself.

“You’re being a dick on purpose.” “As opposed to . . .” A faint giggle left her. “There’s something to be said for self-awareness.”

“I’m very aware of myself, sunshine.”

Sunshine was a label I didn’t mind. It was more personal. I’d like to think it was me.

“He should have bitch-slapped that cocksucker with his cane.”

“Where do you hurt?” “My pride,” he muttered and rolled to sit squarely on his bare ass.

“I’m not having sex with Jonah to get him to talk to me.” She chortled. “I sucked his dick first to loosen him up.” “TMI!”

“I like you too fucking much, Summer. That’s always been the problem.”

Our past was tangled. Our present was complicated. Our future was unknown, but for tonight, I’d get the only woman I’d ever wanted.

We’d had a lot of sex. The guy was powered by the moon.

“I mean, Wynter said she got through Myles’s shell by giving him a blow job. Do I tell her that a hand job works just as well?”

“If you hadn’t done all that, you wouldn’t have ended up in Jonah’s bed.” And on the stairs, the couch, and last night, the kitchen table.

So many unusual circumstances had to happen to get me and Jonah in the same place and especially to get us to leave together. And stay together.

“I like your wood, Jonah.”

He was it for me. If only he’d say the same about me.

I turned grain into spirits. He turned wood into furniture. I played with the flavors to bring out the grain profiles. He changed the wood’s shape to showcase the lines and grooves.

“You’re right. It’s your glowing personality that got my sweats off.” He blinked. “I’m . . . not sure how to take that.”

She’s going to take one look at your blush when his name is brought up and know. You’d better hope Wynter goes into labor before you get to the house.”

I might’ve trimmed my scruff, keeping my beard short rather than bordering on full mountain man. I didn’t want to get back to that place. I liked having protection on my face in the winter, but covering the network of lines along my jaw at the base of the larger scar was no longer much of a motivation. When a woman like Summer said she wanted to date a guy, in public, then that guy lost a few fucks about his looks.

He held his arms apart and looked down at himself. “Something wrong?” “No. Everything’s so right. You look dapper, yet rugged. Like a mountain man with manners, one who can still get dirty for all the right reasons.” His smile made the corners of his eyes crinkle. “Don’t ever doubt that.”

She was hot. If I hadn’t wanted to prove to myself that my semi-exile hadn’t turned me into a mannerless beast, I’d have pushed her backward into the condo and taken her against the door. But I could be a damn gentleman for one night. For a few hours.

She’d put on the camera. I was looking at myself. “That guy look scary? Or so insanely hot you’re worried your panties will combust?” The tips of my ears flamed hot. “Summer.”

I was stranded at your place a second time.” “You weren’t very subtle.” “And you don’t have scurvy.”

She rounded the table, staring at it like she was in a museum and that damn thing was the special exhibit. “You can touch it.” She flashed a grin my way. “I like touching your things.” I liked when her fingers were on my things.

“Keeping me scurvy-free, one salad at a time.”

“I feel like I should hand in my feminism card whenever I bemoan my single status.”

“Gideon James.” Interest crept into Autumn’s expression. “Whoa.” “Yeah.” I had the hots for Jonah, but I could acknowledge when another man was fine. “Whoa,” Autumn breathed again. “I think my ovaries just packed their bags to follow him,” she whispered.

“Looks like you two need a drink.” Autumn put a mixing jar on the counter. Teller blew out a breath and took the stool next to mine. “Make it girly. I want it so dainty that a guy like Gideon would throw a clot knowing I drank it after our talk.”

“The pressure sucks the fun out of the job.”

“She came out again a few weeks later to bring me some groceries for the storm. She doesn’t think I eat enough fresh produce.” Mom grunted her agreement.

Maybe I would’ve gotten fucking scurvy without either of them interfering.

“You look like Mama’s going to ask if you’re defiling her daughter.” He leaned over. “I am. That’s why I’m so goddamn nervous.” “Mama supports a good defiling.” The tips of his ears turned pink. “I didn’t need to know that.”

“I miss Curly’s buns.” “I hope you’re talking about food and not that crusty man’s ass.”

They’d know Jonah was a real man, with a real life, and he was mine. I hoped he always would be.

Adults didn’t need a life partner or kids to be fulfilled, but that life was what I wanted.

“Maybe he just thought of you as his.”

Sometimes, that’s not enough…

Why did Mama have to speak such sense? I should’ve called Autumn. She’d have at least given me one “Fuck him.”

for the adult who never seemed to find Mr. Right, only a Mr. Right Now.

The problem was, he was unrealistic. He was sensitive and caring, sexy as sin, and had muscles galore. He was vulnerable around me and only me. He’d made me feel special. He’d been everything I’d ever wanted in a guy. But even that hadn’t been enough.