Page 20 of Tennessee Whiskey


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Chapter Six

Nick

I’m early againto pick up Daisy. I’m surprised I was able to wait as long as I did.

I should have just taken her back to my house this morning after I’d caught her by the pond with that boy. My jaw clenches again at the thought of her with him. She might protest that they’re just friends, but a man knows when another man wants what’s his, and that boy wants her whether he’s made a move on her or not. Little does he know he’ll have her over my dead body. Daisy is mine. As irrational as it is, she’s been mine since the moment I first saw her stopping traffic to save a goddamned turtle.

Her grandmother’s old Buick is parked in their driveway when I pull up. Yeah, I did my homework on her entire family. It doesn’t bother me at all to see the Cunninghams have company. I’ll have to meet her entire family one day anyway when I finally convince Daisy to be mine in every way. Might as well ingratiate myself to all of them as soon as possible.

I kill the engine to my Maserati and walk cooly up the steps to their quaint little cottage-style home.

Daisy’s mom looks thrilled to see me again if her beaming smile is any indication, and her dad seems jovial as well. The grandmother I’ve never met is eyeing me suspiciously. Guess the verdict is still out on me there. No matter. If she’s important to Daisy, I’m determined to win her over too.

“Who’s this young pup?” the old woman asks from where she sits in a glider chair rocking gently back and forth, her shrewd eyes never leaving me.

Before I can introduce myself, Daisy’s dad answers, “This is Nick Amorini, the man who bought old Mr. McEwen’s place. I take it you’re here for Daisy?” The man directs that last question at me.

“Yes, sir,” I answer him before walking over to the old woman and holding out a hand for her to shake. I know her type already, bred in the age of manners and chivalry.

She takes it in a grip that’s surprisingly firm for your fragile frame. “What’re your intentions with our Daisy?” she cuts right to the chase.

I hold her eyes and don’t hesitate with my answer. “I want to marry her.”

I realize it might be fast, but it’s true. That’s the end goal here. I want Daisy completely tied to me. I want her to be mine. Forever.

The old woman never blinks. She just stares at me as if assessing the truthfulness of my answer, and then she cackles. “I like you, young man.”

I feel a genuine grin split my face at having met the approval of the matriarch of the family. I can see Daisy’s mom beaming at me from the corner of my eye.

“Let me just see if Daisy’s ready,” Mrs. Cunningham tells me before disappearing upstairs where Daisy’s room must be.

Mr. Cunningham makes small talk with me until his wife comes back down the stairs. She’s frowning, but she tries to cover it with an apologetic smile, “Daisy’s not upstairs. I’m sure she didn’t forget your plans tonight, but sometimes she looses track of time when she’s roaming about out on the land.”

I know better, though. This was intentional. Daisy is sending me a message that she’s not going to just do whatever I say. She’s still angry at me. Unfortunately for her, her defiance only makes my dick hard. I feel a smile twitch at the corners of my lips.

“She’s probably got her nose stuck in a book somewhere,” Mr. Cunningham grunts.

Daisy’s grandmother is watching me like a hawk, and I have a feeling her eyes miss nothing. In fact, I’d bet she knows her tenacious granddaughter better than any of them and has already figured out exactly what’s going on. “Try the woods out back, young man.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” I nod at her. “I’ll do that, if you don’t mind,” I glance at Daisy’s father for permission to tramp about on his land.

He motions me on with a wave of his hand.

I can already feel my blood thrumming with the thrill of the chase.

* * *

Daisy

I almost fall off the tree limb I’m perched on when I hear tromping footsteps below me and look down to see Nick’s darkly alluring form making his way through the woods.

His dark hair is falling haphazardly over his face in that carelessly fashionable way, and he’s wearing his customary dark slacks and a gray button-up.

He looks sinfully handsome—sinfully being the operative word.

His eyes are scanning all around. He’s looking for something.

Someone.

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