Mornings in Whiskey Run are amazing. I usually get up early and walk five miles through town and back. Then Jessie, the owner of the Whiskey Run Lodge, has breakfast waiting for me when I return. I always try to just drink coffee, but her fried apple scones are hard to refuse.
But today, I missed out on the walk and breakfast. By the time I rolled over and peeled my eyes open it was already midmorning, and I had exactly twenty minutes before I was supposed to start shooting. It’s no one’s fault but my own... well and Tate’s. Of course he doesn’t know it but yeah, I blame him for the reason that I couldn’t sleep last night.
He kissed me... heck with that, he absolutely possessed my lips at the bar last night, took me to the B&B, and walked me to the front door. That’s it. No kiss goodnight, no see you tomorrow, nothing. It’s like he couldn’t get away from me fast enough.
So instead of sleeping like I should have been, I stayed up half the night trying to figure out what happened. Did I do something wrong? Say something that spooked him or what?
After walking into town, I’m now sitting in the chair as Tara does her magic and makes me beautiful. Kameron has already voiced his displeasure of me being late. As a matter of fact, after his first tirade, he circled back around and let me have it again. I just took it. I was late, and that’s usually not like me. Heck, that’s never like me. So I deserve him and the rest of the team being upset with me.
“Late night?” Tara asks.
I blow out a breath. “I just couldn’t sleep.”
Tara laughs. “Trust me, I get it. I mean there’s no noise here... I don’t see how people can stand it. I’m ready to get back to the city.”
It’s an automatic reaction for me to defend Whiskey Run. I don’t know what it is about this place, but I love it... I’ve loved being here. “I don’t know. I sort of like the pace of Whiskey Run.”
“Are you ready yet?”
Tara rolls her eyes in the mirror at me. Kameron has his head poking in the door of the makeup and dressing room tent. “Yes, she’s ready... and beautiful as ever.”
“Finally. Let’s go,” Kameron says as he steps back out.
“I mean it, you know.”
I look at Tara, flattening the short flowy skirt around my thighs. “Mean what?”
She shrugs. “That you’re beautiful as ever... there’s definitely a glow about you. Maybe Whiskey Run is exactly what you need.”
I laugh. “You might be right. I feel different here.”
I step out of the tent with Tara, and she walks along with me. A makeup brush is in her hand, and I know she’s waiting to see how I look in the harsh sunlight so she can see if she needs to make any adjustments. “Or maybe it’s not Whiskey Run...”
When I look at her, she nods over to where the locals have already gathered to watch today’s taping. “Maybe it’s a certain man in Whiskey Run that has you glowing.”
I follow her gaze, and there stands Tate Jennings. He looks uncomfortable with his hands jammed in the front of his pockets, and he’s scowling as he stands out in the crowd. People are trying to talk to him, and he nods and answers, but his eyes are on me. When he catches my eye, his face completely transforms. I’m speechless as I watch him. Even from across the way I can feel the attraction he feels for me.
I smile and wave at him. If only I had time, I would give anything to go talk to him.
Tara must realize it too. “Go.” She hits me lightly on the arm with the makeup brush and then points toward Tate. “Go ahead. You’re taping with Josh today. I’ll go adjust his makeup or spill something on him. Buy you a few minutes at least.”
I squeal and then whisper-squeal when I realize that I don’t want the whole crew to know we’re up to something. “Thank you, Tara. I owe you.”
She shrugs. “Yeah, yeah, five minutes.”
“Thank you,” I tell her as I walk over toward Tate. When he sees me coming, he breaks away from the crowd and goes down the line of the tape where no one is standing.
We stand in front of each other, just a thin piece of caution tape between us. “Hey.”
Up close, his eyes are tired, and his hair is haphazard like he’s brushed his hand through it about twenty times. “Hey.”
“What is it? What’s wrong?”
He opens his mouth and closes it again, then sighs. “Nothing’s wrong.”
I reach for him and grab on to the shirt that’s covering his flat stomach. His muscles flex underneath my knuckles. “How come I feel like you don’t like seeing me like this?”
He smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “You’re beautiful...”