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“Where’s the whiskey?” I look around. It’s habit to grab my tasting room apron and wrap it around my waist.

“Behind the bar. Labeled and everything.” Cole’s body is tense as he comes to my side.

I gasp in surprise. “You picked a name.”

Cole gives me that heart-melting hat tilt. “You’ll see.”

“Kiss your girl, then move your ass.” Warren storms the floorboards, River and Ezra following him out.

I look into those worried blue eyes as Cole pulls me in. “We’ll be as quick as we can.”

“Don’t rush,” I tell him. “I have it handled.” There can be no mistakes tonight. I want my man coming home to me.

“Wells is at the house. He and Vaughn will drop in when Nolan gets here. Hassie too. Remember…” Cole takes my hand, pulling me close. “Stay on the ranch, Delilah.”

“And here I thought I’d go dancing.”

“Not funny,” he grumbles.

“Fooled you.” I grip his shirt, force a small smile. “Please be safe.”

Cole clasps me to his wide chest, and oh god, I never want to leave. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Emotion settles in that steel face of his. He gives me one last hard kiss, then disappears out the door and into the fading sunset.

I stare after him for a long second before I shake myself out of my daze. I need to focus. It doesn’t do Cole or his brothers any good if I stay here and worry.

I get to work, turning up the lights, the music. The photo shoot will be an hour, followed by the tasting. I add flowers and candles to a high-top. I fix a small plate of charcuterie, a new menu offering Ezra’s approved, then pull out a flight board. I grab five bottles of Weston Whiskey from the shelves, arranging them on the bar as a backdrop for the photo shoot.

Before I know it, an hour has passed. I check the clock on the wall. Nolan should be here any second.

I survey my hard work.

Only one thing’s missing. The final touch. The limited-edition whiskey.

I bend down, putting all my strength into hefting the box of limited-edition whiskey onto the bar. Reaching in, I grab a bottle neck, eager to see the new label, and pull it out. Set it down.

The label’s beautiful, hearkening back to the bootlegging Old West era with its antique style, but it’s the name that has tears filling my eyes.

The Darlin’

Distiller’s Cut

American Single Malt Whiskey

Aged 18 Years

My breaths rush in and out, heaving my chest.

He named his whiskey after me.

My gaze glued to the bottle, I blink back tears, one singular thought on my mind.

I’m going to marry Cole Weston.

I feel ready to burst. I’ve never been so happy in my life. I can’t wait to have a million sunsets with this man. A million babies. I cup a hand over my mouth, tracing my smile. Our life will be good and happy and maybe not perfect, maybe dangerous, but ours.

The crunch of car tires outside cuts through my daydream daze.