Bourbon runaway bourbon.., p.1
Bourbon Runaway (Bourbon Canyon), page 1
BOURBON RUNAWAY
A Bourbon Canyon Novel
WALKER ROSE
LE Publishing
Copyright © 2024 by Walker Rose
Editing by Razor Sharp Editing
Proofreading by Fairy Proofmother Proofreading, Deaton Author Services, and Judy’s Proofreading
Cover art by Okay Creations
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
The characters, places, and events in this story are fictional. Any similarities to real people, places, or events are coincidental and unintentional.
Created with Vellum
I’ve been a recluse since the accident, but there was a wedding I refused to miss. I just never expected to come home with the bride.
Now, I have a runaway bride in my Montana cabin who needs time to lick her wounds. Summer Kerrigan is as bright as her name, even on her worst of days. Too bad she’s been off-limits since she dated my brother in high school. It doesn’t matter that fifteen years have passed since we lost him. She was his. She’ll never be mine.
When she goes back down the mountain, I can’t forget her.
Turns out I don’t have to.
When she surprises me with another visit just before a blizzard snows us in together, staying away from her becomes impossible. It’s tempting to let her all the way in, except every time she’s come into my life, the bourbon empire heiress has left again to return to her own. One I’m not a part of. One I can never be a part of. Unless this damaged mountain man can find a way to keep up with his pretty bourbon runaway.
CONTENTS
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
About the Author
Also by Walker Rose
CHAPTER ONE
Summer
Today was a beautiful day to get married, but I willed the clock to slow down.
“Look at it all come together.” My youngest sister, Wynter, leaned over me, fluffing my veil in the mirror. Her blond hair was curled into ringlets and bound back so the corkscrew strands could cascade down her back. The silver dress she wore washed her skin out, making her light tan pale. I should’ve insisted on letting my sisters choose their own color.
She spread the sides of my veil out. With the light over our heads in the church room I was holed up in with my attendants, the fabric gave me a halo.
Wynter feathered her fingers over the lace at my shoulders. “Such lovely material.”
She’d been making comments all day. About the nice church that Boyd and his family had chosen. The nice dress. The nice vacation in Bali.
Everything was so nice.
A bride wanted more than nice for her wedding day.
A bride wanted more than her sisters trying to make it seem like everything was okay.
My stomach roiled and I pressed my fingers to my lips.
“Oh my god,” Wynter whispered. Her wide gaze darted to Junie, our more worldly and second-youngest sister, as if Autumn wouldn’t understand what she was worried about. Autumn wasn’t as naive as everyone thought.
I rolled my eyes. “God, no, Wynter. I’m not pregnant.”
Fear speared right through my heart at the thought. Shouldn’t that be disappointment? I was in my mid-thirties, and I was finally getting married. I wanted a family, yet the thought of getting pregnant now left me almost as sick as the idea of loading into a tin can with wings afterward.
A goddamn plane. Boyd knew how I felt about flying.
Yet he’d surprised me with the tickets to Bali like my claustrophobic ass should jump up and down. Tomorrow morning, I’d be sitting in first class, as if that made it better to be stuck in a coffin with a hundred other people. My chest squeezed and tears pricked the backs of my eyes.
I blinked rapidly and smeared my mascara. “Shit.”
“Let me get a wipe.” Autumn jumped off the stool. Her dress swished, not at all the summer dress I’d pictured when I’d fantasized about a wedding as a kid.
Her red hair was done similarly to Wynter. A nice, elegant style. To keep the tears at bay, I glanced around the room in the mirror. Plush couches. Gallery-worthy artwork. Crown molding. This wasn’t the church I’d grown up in, the one I’d thought I’d be married in, but the room was nice.
So. Nice.
“Got it!” Autumn brandished a makeup wipe like it’d solve all my problems.
Wynter stopped her by putting a hand in front of my face. “That’ll take all the foundation off.”
“Oh, right.” Autumn narrowed her eyes on me and contemplated the issue with Wynter.
Junie stood and joined them, her doe-brown eyes contemplative. The three stood in a half circle in front of me, focused on goddamn makeup like it was their lifeline. Anything to ignore how melancholy I’d been today.
“It’s fine.” I held my hand out for the wipe. “I don’t care if the dark bags show through.”
The three blinked at me. More tears threatened to well. My hand shook.
“Summer,” Wynter said quietly. “Whatever you want to do, we’ve got your back.”
She wasn’t talking about the makeup. Hope surged inside me but I tamped it down. What was I thinking? Boyd was a good man. A nice guy.
Nice. Fuck me. Which he also did, in his methodical, predictable way.
He also bulldozed over me at the most inconvenient times. Like with this wedding. “He was so excited about getting married after being at your wedding, Wynter,” I said in a near whisper. I’d been enchanted too. Wynter and my new brother-in-law, Myles, had radiated happiness on their big day. They were meant to be together, and I’d wanted that for myself. So when Boyd had proposed the day after—so as not to impose on the happy couple’s special day, and that was considerate, dammit—I had thought it was an indication of what I should do.
Like Mama sometimes said, “Piss or get off the pot.”
When I’d said yes, I’d ignored the small voice in my head chiding me about how a sudden wedding wasn’t what I wanted. Boyd had said four months was plenty of time. A Valentine’s Day wedding would be perfect. He’d never forget our anniversary, haha. I’d laughed at that, when inside, I’d felt let down in some small way.
But my baby sister had gotten married. I was so much older than her, had always looked out for her, yet she’d found the love of her life.
I had Boyd.
The insistent voice in my head was back, listing Boyd’s shortcomings. I’d shut her up for so long, it was second nature, but today that bitch refused to be quiet.
He asked me to dress extra nice when we were meeting his fellow associates. Did he think I was a frump otherwise?
He’d tossed some of my favorite old shirts, and I’d had to hide a blanket an old boyfriend’s mother had crocheted me so he wouldn’t throw it out too.
He dominated all the nights that used to be girls’ nights, planning festive and fun dates instead until all my friends had moved on without me.
That voice was getting loud now, echoing through my head and blowing the blinders off.
Junie squeezed my shoulder. Her hair was streaked with red, which I’d heard about from Boyd and his mother. I told my sister the color didn’t matter. I wanted Junie at my side, and if she had neon-yellow or ink-black hair, I didn’t care. Her style differed from Wynter’s and Autumn’s. She’d covered the red by tying her hair in a knot at the base of her neck.
“Are you trying to hide the red in your hair, June?” I didn’t use her nickname, so she’d know I wanted a straight answer.
Guilt and fear flashed across her face.
I narrowed my eyes. “Did Boyd talk to you?”
She chewed the inside of her cheek. In her was a war—tell me the truth or lie. “Mrs. Harrington did,” she finally said.
Corinne Harrington. Boyd’s mom and a downright witch. Was she the reason Boyd had urged me to add more and more blond highlights to my strawberry-blond strands? Why was hair color an issue anyway?
Why was I doing everything he asked?
Boyd’s mother was also on that voice’s list. Corinne had casually mentioned that we had to limit our numbers to somehow exclude the fosters my adoptive mom had taken in. Mae Bailey loved all her foster children, and while Lane and Cruz had only started working with her this summer, and while they were adults, they were already engraved on her heart as hers. Not only were they Myles’s brothers, they were decent men. Guests I had refused to let her leave off the invites.
But the crowding, Summer, Corinne had said. The church should not be bursting at the seams.
Boyd had given me the silent treatment for two days after I’d told his mother that if
Now they were present, and I didn’t want to be.
“Summer?” Wynter asked, grabbing a stool and dragging it over, heedless of the train of her dress or her eight-month baby belly. I had wanted to wait to get married until Wynter had the baby. I didn’t want her to be uncomfortable on my happy day, and I didn’t want her to stand in heels when she was ready to deliver any day.
Mrs. Harrington thought Wynter’s baby belly would be a disgrace. A blemish in all the pictures. Her aghast reaction was the only reason I’d sided with Boyd to have the wedding earlier.
Why wait for spring when we can be expecting our own child by then? he’d asked.
I’d looked forward to having kids, but when he’d continued to ask when I’d get my IUD taken out, I had said after the wedding. I’d made the excuse that I didn’t want my hormones in turmoil during the ceremony. No clue if that was a thing, but he’d quit pressuring me.
How many times had I formed workarounds for his personality?
My heart stammered again. I pressed my palm against my chest. What was going on?
“Summer,” Wynter said again. I didn’t realize I’d taken my gaze off her and was staring at the perfectly polished hardwood floor.
“Yeah?”
“Do you want to get married?”
I nodded, but tears welled and spilled onto my cheeks. “No,” I whispered. I shook my head, blinking and getting mascara on my cheeks. Waterproof my ass. “No, I’m just stressing.”
Junie gripped my shoulders and leaned down so we were eye to eye. “What would you tell me if I was in your position?”
The answer came easily. I’d tell Junie it wasn’t too late. I would tell her she didn’t have to go through with it, and I’d have her back. I’d tell her to leave now, and I’d take care of it.
More hot tears flooded my eyes. “I can’t cancel. It’s too late.”
“Do you love Boyd?” Autumn asked.
I licked my lips, the saltiness of my tears stinging my tongue. “Yeah?”
Wynter exchanged a knew it look with the other two. “If he loves you, he’ll understand.”
“It’s not a question you have to answer right now either,” Autumn said. My three sisters once again surrounded me like a tripod. “I think you have to tell him to call this off, that you’re not ready, and then later, you figure out if you love him and whether you want to stay with him.”
Tell Boyd the wedding was off. A tremor passed through me. He’d be so upset. I’d be on the end of that coldness he developed when he was angry. “It’s just so rushed.”
I didn’t specify what was rushed, but they all nodded, their expressions solemn.
“Want me to get him?” Junie asked.
I shook my head and carefully took the veil off. Autumn snagged it from my hands like she was afraid I’d put it back on and forge ahead. She hung the beautiful headpiece up across the room, far out of my reach.
I’d made the first, tiny step. I could take another. Then another. I wouldn’t face him in this room, the one that had my veil hanging on a garment stand or my luggage for the Bali honeymoon he wanted to take.
“I’ll have him meet me by the back exit, by the storage room.” The door was closest to the parking lot, but the main entrance was around the corner and would be the one all the guests entered. “Don’t tell the guys yet, okay?”
The last thing I needed was my pushy brothers starting a scene with Boyd and his uptight mom and his dad, who was probably half wasted already.
I rose and my elegant white satin gown draped into perfect place. The lace around my neck and over my chest and arms itched like crazy. I had wanted a simple gown, like what Wynter had worn, but I’d copied her already by fast-tracking a wedding mere months after she’d gotten married.
I was the oldest. I was supposed to lead by example, but my baby sister had found love and settled down. She was expecting her first kid. That was supposed to be me.
Today wasn’t the day to be competitive. I shouldn’t have let Boyd carry me away and hurry a life event I’d been dreaming about since I was a little girl.
My skirts billowed around my legs as I walked to the far door that connected to a different room that my sisters had used to change in. I kept my slippers on, leaving my heels by the veil. I stopped in the hallway and messaged Boyd.
I need to talk to you. Meet me by the exit at the south corner of the church where the big storage room is.
He’d know. His groomsmen had bitched all night about hiding all the church decorations per Corinne’s request so they didn’t contaminate photos.
Someone would have to put them all back and I doubted it’d be Boyd’s friends. My brothers would. In a heartbeat.
I put my phone in a hidden pocket deep in my skirts. My heart rate calmed, having something that was mine, that I’d picked out, on my person. As I ventured into the empty hallway, I liked that my family could reach me. I wasn’t forging ahead alone.
Tate had called me three times in the last month. He rarely called. Since I’d announced the impending nuptials, Teller and Tenor had both made more stops at the family’s distillery in Bozeman to see me.
So, yeah. My family would have my back. Boyd would understand, and if he loved me, he’d want me to be happy. He’d feel bad for pressuring me.
I scurried to the meeting spot, only the sound of my dress rustling to accompany me. Boyd didn’t reply. I waited, shifting my weight from foot to foot, my nerves making me fidgety the longer I stood there. I didn’t look down. I didn’t want to see the silver BRIDE stitched across the tops of my slippers.
Soft piano music filtered down the hall from the chapel. The entrance was down another hallway. My sisters and I had been put in the room the farthest away. The church was large and already filled with murmurs. How many people were in attendance?
Mama would be greeting everyone who arrived. Mrs. Harrington had insisted Mama stay with me, like Mama was too unrefined to greet any of Boyd’s side. My mama might seem meek and subservient, but she did what she damn well pleased. I should’ve taken notes.
“What’s going on?” Boyd’s commanding tone cut through the quiet.
I spun, a gasp escaping my lips. Had he been in the chapel greeting folks? Or was the plan to keep me and my family locked up until it was time to perform?
The clarity I was experiencing today should’ve happened much sooner, but at least it hadn’t waited longer. “I’m—uh . . .” Turned out, canceling a wedding was hard to announce to the groom.
“Summer,” he snapped. “We have ten minutes and you look—” He made a tsking sound. He gripped the sides of my face and smoothed his thumbs under my eyes. The smeared mascara. “You’re a mess.”
“Thanks,” I said sarcastically.
He scowled and tried to rub the black off his thumbs with his fingers. “You know what I mean.” He closed his eyes and seemed to collect himself. “You’re beautiful, but I know you want to be radiant on your wedding day.”
He did that a lot, didn’t he? Reframed a situation to be about what I wanted so I’d look foolish if I disagreed. He was saying what he wanted. He got me to do what he wanted.
I lifted my chin. “I wanted a summer wedding.”
He got a dumbfounded expression. “Okay? You’re telling me now?”
“I told you before. I wanted to wait.” I was dancing around the topic and that was unlike me. Summer Kerrigan did not pussyfoot. “I’m not going through with the wedding.” I blew out a hard breath. There. I’d done it. A spark of pride lit in my chest.
He barked out a laugh. “Good one. How did you know I was getting tense and that I needed to lighten up?” His eyes twinkled, but there was an aura around him, an accumulation of ominous energy.
The feeling wasn’t new. I usually acquiesced when I sensed he was displeased. Boyd was a catch—on paper. In person, I was no longer sure. “I’m not kidding, Boyd. I don’t want to get married right now.” I squared my shoulders. I wasn’t just canceling a wedding. The last few minutes had been more than enlightening. I was ending the whole thing. “I don’t want to marry you.”
His features went deathly still and that vibe grew stifling. I didn’t see him move his arm until the slap rang through the hallway. My head snapped to the side, but even then, I needed an extra second to figure out why.
