Page 72 of Tennessee Trouble

“Apparently there was someone,” I comment, not bothering to hide my snark.

Being brought up to speed on the latest town gossip is not reason enough to interrupt my moment. To steal my limelight.

Especially since I don’t know how I’m going to get it back.

Rylan and Declan continue their chatter, already trying to formulate a plan. Obtaining the B&B seems like a dumb idea to me, especially since our cousins run the Smoky Spruce Lodge, but what do I know.

“You wanna stand here and listen to these two old biddies blather on about a B&B, or can I convince you to dance with me?” Brandt whispers, leaning in so only I can hear him. His breath tickles the shell of my ear, making me want to wrap myself up in his arms.

Exactly what I hope he’s proposing.

“Dance. Please.”

Holding out his hand, he winks at me. “Let’s go piss off your sister.”

And I think I fall even harder.

19

BRANDT

“Know what the problem is?” Lindee huffs, her warm breath simultaneously steaming up her glasses under her safety goggles and ruffling the strand of hair that is falling in her face. The little moon drawn on the side of her safety goggles catches the light, making it look like it’s glimmering. I smile, my insides ready to burst at how cute she looks like this. She’s in her element, surrounded by every piece of equipment a distiller could want. “Everything I come up with is basically an old-fashioned.”

“What’s wrong with an old-fashioned? People love a good old-fashioned.” I shrug, realizing just how stupid a comment that is as the words leave my mouth. Thank you, Captain Obvious…

“Yes, yes, they do,” she sasses back, not skipping the chance to playfully stick her tongue out at me. “Which is why the Ol’ Fashioned Preacher is so popular, and tickets to the Tinsel Tangle manage to sell out so quickly every year.” Because it’s the only time you can get it.

“It’s that big of a deal?”

Lindee nods. Damn…must be one hell of a drink.

“The Tinsel Tangle is the only time it’s served, and you can only get tickets if you’re a member of the Ol’ Troublemakers.”

“You’ve mentioned that drink before, and that the Christmas party was kinda exclusive, but I didn’t realize it was that exclusive.”

“Yup.” She continues to nod, as if she can’t believe it herself. “There are a very limited number of tickets sold every year. The party is technically open to the public, but I don’t know that I’ve seen a general sale on tickets ever. Invites go to us shareholders first, then to Ol’ Troublemakers, and then, if magically there is room left, we open it up for sale.”

“All so they can have this drink?”

Lindee scrunches her face, as if she’s thinking. “Ninety percent about the Ol’ Fashioned Preacher? The other ten percent is a mix of getting a sneak peek at the newest Tennessee Trouble or a taste of something rare enough to only make an appearance at such an event and bragging rights.”

Holy shit…

Instantly, my mind starts to wonder how I can angle an invite. The idea that such an exclusive event in a small town like this exists is mind-blowing. It also makes me want to figure out a way to do it for Southern Brothers. I have no clue what we have to offer, but I bet if I gave it to the Hayes marketing people, they could figure something out.

“The recipe is an old family secret,” she continues. Her eyes sparkle, the nameless glee that comes right before she starts teasing me filling those beautiful hazel irises. “And while others have tried to duplicate it, they are missing the secret ingredient.”

Secret ingredient? Oh, yeah…she’s taunting me. Like I’m a worm on a hook, she’s going to keep me dangling as long as she can. Playing with me every which way.

I’m here for it.

“Which is?” I ask, playing into her hand. I take a step closer to her, closing the gap between us. Her lab isn’t huge, but it’s more than enough room for two, plus her chemistry set.

“Well…” she drawls, pushing her goggles up into her hair, like a headband. Fuck, if I thought she was cute before, this new move is another step up the ladder. I thought she was crazy to put them on since all we’re doing is mixing drinks, but she insisted. Now, I don’t want her to take them off.

Giggling, she steps into me, her pretty pink lips stealing my attention from the goggles. Fuck me, she’s going to make it hard to…well, not be hard.

“If I told you that,” she whispers, her voice husky and low, “I’d have to kill you.”