Bourbon Bliss: Bootleg Springs Book Four Page 3

  “I don’t know, man, a head injury isn’t something to fuck around with. Trust me.”

  His eyes seemed to clear and he straightened. “Right, yeah. Oh fuck, my car.”

  Now that I was fairly sure the guy was all right, I turned my attention to the Charger. It would have been a damn shame to get even a scratch on this beauty, and this was much worse than a scratch. I couldn’t see the extent of the damage from this side, but it couldn’t have been pretty.

  “You have someone you can call? Or can I give you a ride somewhere? I’m not sure where you were headed.”

  “Fuck,” he muttered again. “Yeah, I’ll call one of my brothers.”

  “Sure. I’ll wait and make sure you get where you need to go.”

  He met my eyes for the first time, like it was sinking in that I was there. “Thanks for stopping. Appreciate it.”

  “No problem.” I held out my hand. “GT Thompson.”

  “Gibson Bodine.” He took my hand in a firm grip and shook. “Really. Thank you.”

  “Anytime. Looks like you’re going to need a tow.”

  “Yeah, damn it. Fucking deer.”

  I stepped aside and waited while Gibson made a few calls. He paced back and forth next to his car, his gravelly voice thick with frustration. I cupped my hands in front of my face and blew into them. It was damn cold out here.

  When he finished, he slid his phone into the back pocket of his jeans. “My brother’s on his way. He lives in town, so he’s only a few minutes away. Tow truck is on its way, too.”

  “All right. You want me to hang out until they get here?”

  “No, man, you can go. It’s colder than shit out here.” He glanced at his car, his expression pained. “Thanks for stopping.”

  “Of course. You sure you’re all right?”

  “Yeah, I’m not hurt. Can’t say the same for her.” He nodded toward the Charger. “But I’ll fix her.”

  I said goodbye to Gibson Bodine but took my time once I got back in my car. Pretended to look at my phone for a few minutes while the heat blasted. He’d said he was fine, but I didn’t want to leave him out here alone, just in case.

  It didn’t take long before another car pulled up and a guy got out. Only then did I get back on the highway and continue on to Bootleg Springs.

  * * *

  The little place I was renting was just outside town, on the shores of the pristine mountain lake. No ice crusted the top of the water. Steam rose from the surface and I remembered the hot springs. Looked like the lake water was warm enough to stay liquid, even through the cold winter.

  The sky was clear and white snow coated the trees. The peace and quiet was going to do me some good. Even after witnessing that car accident, I could feel myself relaxing, my stress unraveling.

  Felt good. I liked this place already.

  My sister was not one to waste time. She wanted to get together the second I arrived, so once I got my things situated in my rental cabin, I drove into town to meet her.

  Bootleg Springs was the definition of quaint. Clean streets, fresh paint on many of the building façades. Hand-painted signs announced businesses like Yee Haw Yarn and Coffee, the Rusty Tool, and Moonshine Diner, where I was meeting Shelby.

  Warm air scented with a rich mixture of delicious food smells greeted me when I walked inside. My stomach rumbled. I spotted Shelby at a booth near the back, her face lighting up with a big smile.

  She stood as I approached, and I wrapped her in a bear hug. Gave her a good squeeze. She was a lot smaller than me, but then I was six foot five, so most people were. Her brown hair was pulled back and she wore a light gray sweater and jeans. We looked oddly alike, considering we weren’t biologically related. My parents had adopted Shelby when she was a baby.

  “Hey, sis,” I said as I slid into the booth opposite her. “Long time no see.”

  “Hey, GT. You look great. How’s the knee?”

  I straightened my leg beneath the table and rubbed above my knee cap. “It’s good.”

  “Liar.”

  “I’m not lying. It is good. Could be better, though.”

  She nodded. “How are you doing with… you know. Everything else.”

  “You mean the end of my football career?”

  “Yeah, that.”

  “I’m all right.” I put my hands up in protest before she could disagree with me. “Shelby, I swear. I knew it was coming. Besides, I’m too old to keep getting beat to hell like that. I’m lucky the worst of it is my knee.”

  “True. But this is a big deal. I know you’ve talked about retiring before, but it must be hard to have the choice out of your hands.”

  “I’ve made my peace with it.”

  She smiled. “Good.”

  The waitress, a woman with a red beehive hairdo and a name tag that said Clarabell, came to take our order. Shelby chose an open-faced turkey sandwich. I went for the meatloaf and mashed potatoes. My favorite.

  “How’s little Marshmellow?” Shelby asked after Clarabell left.

  “She’s adorable, obviously,” I said with a grin. Marshmellow, or Mellow for short, was my pet bunny—a Netherland dwarf. She was tiny, soft, and pure white. “I miss her already, but Andrea’s taking care of her for me while I’m away.”

  “Aw, I need to come visit her.”

  “You should. This being unemployed thing makes that a lot easier. I have all kinds of time.”

  “I’m so relieved,” she said. “Mom and Dad have been worried about you, but you seem like you’re taking everything in stride.”

  “Doing my best,” I said. “But you need to tell me more about this hot spring.”

  “Right.” She got out her phone and started typing. “I’ll just text you the directions. It’s easier than trying to explain.”

  “Is it hard to find?” I asked.

  “Kind of, yeah,” she said. “There are a few places to soak, but I found a really good one. It’s more private. I’ve only been out there once, but it was so nice.”

  We chatted for a few more minutes until Clarabell brought our food—and holy hell, it was good. Down-home cooking at its best. Now I really liked this place. I had a feeling I was going to become a regular Moonshine customer during my stay. I was already wondering how soon was too soon to order another meal. I wanted to dig into that open-faced turkey sandwich next.

  I glanced up as I ate and noticed a woman sitting a few booths away. She had dark blond hair that hung carelessly around her shoulders. No makeup. The sleeve of her navy sweater slid down her arm as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. She had her phone in one hand, and she picked up a pen with the other. Her eyes darted back and forth between her phone and a notebook as she wrote something down.

  She was cute, in a not-usually-my-type sort of way. But it wasn’t so much her appearance that made me glance twice. Something about the way she moved caught my attention. She was precise and exacting, her eyes flicking back and forth as she jotted in that notebook of hers. I found myself gazing at her, wondering what she was doing.

  And then she spoke.

  Not to me. She was sitting alone, and she didn’t appear to be talking to anyone. I couldn’t make out what she was saying—she was muttering to herself. But for some reason, I found the whole thing fascinating.

  “Do you know who she is?” I asked Shelby, nodding my head in the direction of the muttering woman.

  “Oh, that’s June Tucker.”

  “Do you know her?” I asked, still gazing at June. Of course Shelby would know everyone in town by now.

  “Not really. The locals haven’t exactly been welcoming of my kind.” She didn’t sound the least bit upset by that. “But I’ve seen her around.”

  “And you see a lot.”

  She wrinkled her nose. “She’s different.”

  “In what way?”

  Shelby raised one shoulder in a slight shrug. “People say she’s a little off. She doesn’t interact like everyone else. But they still make a place for her. S
he’s interesting.”

  I looked at June again. She appeared to be having a quiet argument with… herself? I wasn’t sure. The phone in her hand indicated she might be on a call, but there wasn’t another voice coming from the speaker. And I didn’t see ear buds or a headset. Maybe she really was talking to herself.

  She seemed… focused. As if unaware that she was in a public place and people might think it odd that she was talking to herself. Or maybe she just didn’t care.

  Either way, it was hard to take my eyes off her.

  “Earth to GT.” Shelby snapped her fingers near my face. “Quit staring. You’re being weird.”

  I grinned at her and motioned to her half-full plate with my fork. “Are you going to finish that?”

  “All yours.” She pushed the rest of her dinner to my side of the table.

  I loved eating with my sister. I always got her leftovers.

  “So, I know my timing isn’t great, what with you having just arrived, but I’m going back to Pittsburgh in a couple of days.”

  I put my fork down. “What? Why?”

  “I got a gig writing some articles for a PR firm there,” she said. “It’s not my favorite thing, but it pays, and I need to make some extra cash right now.”

  For half a second, I thought about offering Shelby money. But I knew exactly what she’d say if I did, if she didn’t just smack me. I knew if she was in real trouble, she’d let me help, but otherwise, she wanted to make it on her own. I respected that.

  “Well that sucks, but you gotta do what you gotta do,” I said.

  “Exactly. I’ll be back. I still have research to do here.” She put her napkin down and rose from her seat. “I need to go to the restroom. I’ll be right back.”

  Shelby’s dinner was every bit as good as mine. I’d probably need to quit eating so much eventually, since I wouldn’t be hitting training camp in a few months and losing any excess weight I’d put on during the off-season. But today was not that day.

  Movement caught my eye and I looked over to find June getting up from her booth. She’d put her phone and notebook away—probably in the handbag she slung over one shoulder.

  She looked up and our eyes met. Instead of breaking eye contact, like strangers usually did, we stared at each other. Her face was impossible to read—expressionless. But something about her held me captivated. I couldn’t look away.

  Maybe it was the way she looked directly at me. No batting eyelashes or attempts at acting coy. Her gaze left my face, traveling down to my feet, then back again. It didn’t seem like she recognized me, but I couldn’t be sure. There was no way to read what might be going on behind those pretty green eyes.

  With a little nod of her head—as if she’d just filed away her observations for later use—she left.

  I watched her go, feeling dazed, like I’d just taken a hard hit that had rung my bell. Why had she looked at me like that? Was she a fan of a rival team and hated me? Did she even know who I was?

  I had no idea.

  But suddenly Bootleg Springs was a lot more interesting.

  4

  George

  I hadn’t been sure what to think about the claim that the hot springs in some little town in West Virginia might have healing properties. But as I lowered myself into the warm water, I wondered if maybe they were right. I sank down slowly, letting the heat loosen my tight muscles.

  The quiet and seclusion were just as relaxing as the water. Patches of snow still sat beneath the trees and the air was chilly against my bare skin. The contrast between the cold air and warm water felt great. The spring itself was a pool of glassy greenish-blue water. Plants crept in along the edges, as if vying for the warmth and hydration, and steam rose from the surface.

  This place had been tricky to find—as Shelby had warned me—but there was no one around. I shifted a little to get comfortable, leaned my head back, and closed my eyes.

  Oh yeah. This was good.

  “Excuse me. You’re not supposed to be here.”

  My eyes flew open at the sound of a woman’s voice. It was June, the woman I’d seen at the diner yesterday. Her dark blond hair was in a ponytail and she was dressed in a cream sweater, black leggings, and canvas low-tops. Her piercing green eyes stared straight at me, unblinking.

  “Um, what?” Way to go, GT. Great response.

  She crossed her arms, but her expression didn’t change. “You’re not on the list.”

  I glanced around, like I was going to see a bouncer with a clipboard somewhere. “On what list?”

  “There’s a sign-up sheet. You’re in my spot.”

  “A sign-up sheet to sit in a hot spring?”

  “Yes.” She blinked once.

  It was about then that I remembered I was naked. She probably couldn’t see my junk, but if I got out with her standing there, I’d be treating her to quite the show. Inexplicably, I was sporting a semi. Was it her? She probably had a nice body under that bulky sweater, but it was hard to tell. And it wasn’t like she was flirting with me. Not in the least. She was probably the least-flirtatious woman I’d ever met. So I had no idea why my dick was trying to cause a scene.

  Partial erection or not, this water felt amazing. I didn’t particularly want to get out. Maybe I could talk her into letting me have more time.

  “Listen, I’m sorry about taking your spot. I honestly didn’t know. I’m not from around here, and no one told me there was a sign-up sheet. My sister said try the hot springs, so here I am.” I grinned at her, spreading my arms to the sides.

  “That doesn’t change the fact that it’s my time.”

  “This does present a predicament, doesn’t it?” I rubbed my jaw. “I guess you’ll just have to get in with me.” Obviously she wasn’t going to, but maybe she’d offer to come back in an hour.

  She set her bag down and pulled off her sweater, revealing a white tank top underneath. My mouth dropped open as I watched her fold her sweater and put it in her bag. Then she hooked her thumbs under the waistband of her leggings and started to slide them down.

  “What are you doing?” I asked.

  She stopped, bent at the waist, her pants partway down, and looked at me. Her expression still hadn’t changed. “I’m getting in.”

  “What?”

  “You just said I should get in with you. I decided your solution is acceptable. I usually prefer to soak alone, but this time, I’ll make an exception.”

  “Why?” It was a weird question, but it was the first thing that popped into my head.

  She tilted her head, still bent over. “You weren’t aware of the sign-up sheet. Tourists typically can’t find this place without someone showing them, and any Bootlegger would know the rules. So either you got bad information, or someone set you up. Neither of those things seem like reason enough to make you leave.”

  “My sister told me, and I don’t think she’d set me up. Not like this, at least. That’s not really her style.”

  She finished taking off her leggings and folded them. I could see the goosebumps raise on her skin from the cold. With a little shiver, she pulled off her tank top and quickly put it in her bag.

  There was a hot body beneath her sweater. A very hot body that was clad in nothing but a black bikini.

  And now my erection was not of the semi variety.

  I slid forward on the ledge I was sitting on, trying to get lower in the water. I wanted more distance between my crotch and the surface, in case she looked down. She climbed into the pool and settled herself on the ledge across from me.

  “I’m—”

  “George Thompson,” she said, before I had a chance to finish.

  I was accustomed to people knowing me, even approaching me in public. I’d signed autographs on everything from dirty napkins to women’s boobs. But for some reason, the fact that this strange girl knew who I was surprised me into silence.

  And she’d used my full name. No one called me George. Not even my parents. I’d been GT since I was a kid. But coming
from her, I liked it.

  “June Tucker,” she said.

  I leaned forward, reaching out my hand. “Nice to meet you, June.”

  Her eyes flicked downward once and I almost drew back. But she gave me a businesslike shake.

  She reached over the side of the pool and dried her hands on her towel before tightening her ponytail. Something about the way she moved was mesmerizing. She wasn’t graceful, exactly, but there was a precision to her movements that was strangely appealing.

  “You have an erect penis.”

  I stared at her for a few seconds longer than I should have before looking down. I did have an erection, and I was well aware of it. But I hadn’t expected her to notice. And I really hadn’t expected her to mention it like that.

  “Um. Yeah, I guess I do.”

  “Why?”

  “Well… I don’t really know exactly.”

  “Are you meeting a lady friend, or did I interrupt you before you could complete your masturbatory emission?”

  “I… no.”

  “I ask because people typically come here to have intercourse. That’s the real reason the town created a sign-up sheet, no matter what people say about it. I assume your current state of arousal must have preceded my arrival.”

  I sat up straighter. If she was going to notice my junk, and be so blunt about it, there wasn’t much reason to hide. The water was obviously too clear to give me any cover. If she were anyone else, I’d assume she was trying to make me uncomfortable so I’d leave. But there wasn’t a hint of manipulation in her tone.

  I liked that.

  “No, I didn’t come here to have sex with anyone. Or to…”

  “Masturbate,” she offered.

  “Right. Not that either.”

  “Then what’s responsible for your erection? In adult human males, it’s uncommon to have increased blood flow to the penile capillaries without an external source of arousal. If you were under the age of eighteen to twenty, your physical state would be less surprising.”

  “You mean if I was a horny teenager, you wouldn’t question my hard-on?”