And his attitude.
Even the way he said fucking O’Ralleys was like his goal was to drive my already-twitching dick crazy.
Something about Cohen simultaneously grated on my nerves and made me want to revisit those lips—which I was thinking about way too much for a straight guy.
Keep your goddamn cool, Brodes, I told myself before saying, “So this is your inner sanctum?”
Jesus fucking Christ, why couldn’t I stop saying inner sanctum? The whole inexperienced, bumbling shit was Walker’s thing, not mine.
Cohen turned back to me, those green eyes catching my attention once again as he winced like he wasn’t sure what to make of my comment either.
I glanced around his space. “Fuck, I’m already jealous.”
“Jealous?”
“Yeah, some of your equipment is more up-to-date than ours. Can’t persuade Big Daddy to update shit, so we keep fixing old stills and boilers. I call them ancient. He calls them classics. But I guess the best question I could start with is, what do you know about distilleries? I don’t want to waste your time.”
“I like a Jack and Coke…”
I started to laugh, but his serious expression didn’t let up.
“Oh, damn. Okay. The official tour it is.”
I could tell he was already overwhelmed, and I figured it didn’t just have to do with the distillery.
“How about we start with the tasting room? Looks like it was locked up pretty tight, no broken windows, so hopefully no one’s looted anything.”
I led him through the main warehouse, to a door I assumed went to the tasting room.
Bingo.
Through two windows on the opposite side of the room, the afternoon light flooded into the space. Still decorated with a rustic look, deer antlers hanging on the wall behind the bar, alongside old family photos and various awards and certificates the Mitchells had received for their product.
I opened the hinged part of the bar that let me behind it as Cohen walked around to a nearby stool, where he sat down and made himself comfy.
“You’re making yourself pretty at home here.”
“Same setup as ours, looks like. Not surprising, considering our ancestors started in business together. If it ain’t broke and all… Besides, you visit enough distilleries, you learn they’re all basically set up the same.”
I rifled through the cabinets and storage spaces.
“So…while you’re making yourself at home in my inner sanctum, the other night…”
My cheeks caught fire at the mention. I was fucking glad I wasn’t looking at him right then.
“Oh, that…”
I was relieved when I found a locked cabinet. An excellent excuse to change the subject.
I turned to him. “Hey, mind if I borrow those keys you grabbed to get us in here?”
He fetched the keys and handed them to me, and I opened the cabinet.
“Oh, that is fucking beautiful,” I said, admiring the stash left behind.
As I sorted through the bottles, I decided I could be honest with Cohen about last night without describing how intensely hot the experience had been for me.
“So…there’s this woman I’ve been seeing for the past two years, off and on…then off again…then on again. Then…well, you get the drift. I think I’ve been off and on my horse fewer times than we were—sorry. That sounds a bit too much like I do bad things with my horse.”
“And here I assumed it was an awkward euphemism for barebacking,” he teased with a wink.
“Any rate, Karissa’s her name. And I was smitten, but evidently, every time I thought we were on again, she was off again…or getting off again…with a few other guys, one in particular…Jeffery-Dean. Without getting into it too much, she’s seen me out a few times, and tried to make up one excuse or another for her bad behavior, and at that party—”
“I was your way out of an uncomfortable conversation.”
The way he worded it made me really consider the consequences of my actions. I took a breath, stepping away from the cabinet and back to the bar. “I’d had a lot to drink, but I can’t even pretend it was all that since I remember it all perfectly clear. There was a moment when I thought, not only would it get her off my tail for a night, but kissing a guy would really throw her enough to leave me the hell alone. And…yeah, well, there it is, Cohen. I’m really sorry if you feel like I was using you.”
“That seems like the definition of using a person.”
“Yeah, and I am very sorry. I know drinking is no excuse, or being in a bind. I should have asked you or…”
Damn, I was really hoping he’d interrupt me, but he just kept those goddamn beautiful green eyes fixed on me as though he needed more than that, so I did my best.
“I could have pulled you aside…and I don’t know a way out of this awkward conversation.”
“Funny that you don’t enjoy awkward, since I’m enjoying it so much right now,” he said with an expanding grin.
Seemed like everything he said drove me crazy, and I couldn’t tell if it turned me on or pissed me off, but it was exciting all the same.
“If it makes you feel any better,” he said, “if I hadn’t wanted it, you would have found out right away.”
“Guess you’re right. I remember one guy trying to drunk-kiss Megan Fehr, and she exercised her Second Amendment rights until he was racing across the river in his underpants.”
He laughed. “Sounds like that taught him to try and kiss a stranger.”
“Stranger? They were dating. They’re getting married next June.”
Cohen leaned back and laughed, putting his hand to his face in what might have been the most adorable way I’d ever seen.
“But you didn’t resist it…me kissing you,” I remarked, thinking back to his comment.
“No, I didn’t.”
“So you liked it?”
“I didn’t say that. Did you like it?”
“I’m straight.”
“That doesn’t answer my question, does it? Or explain why some straight guy is running around kissing random men?”
He didn’t seem to be letting me get out of this one easily. “I think I will definitely need a drink before we get into this.”
“Stalling is what it sounds like,” he noted.
“Can’t it be both?”
He grinned as I returned to the cabinet, fishing through the bottles, looking for one in particular.
“I don’t have a problem with gay guys, if that’s what you think,” I added.
“I’ve suspended my judgment until you say something wildly homophobic.”
“My brother Walker’s gay, and I love him to death. He’s always liked guys. Been like that since he was eight years old. While I wanted to hold hands with Nancy Finnegan, he wanted to do that with Benji Moore. But while I got to hold hands with every Nancy in my life, he could only allow himself to daydream…had to keep it all in. Makes me sad and pisses me off at the same time.”
“Why does it piss you off?”
“It isn’t right. He shouldn’t have felt like he had to keep that in…or from me. I know it wasn’t about me personally, but of all my brothers, I’m closest with Walker, and it made me sad that he wasn’t able to talk to me about that. Like I’d done something or said something that made him feel uncomfortable.”