WhiskeyBottleLover (26 page)

Six Months Later

Chance stepped out of her barn, lifted her face toward the
sun and stretched. She’d been working for hours on a new project, lost in
creativity, and now her muscles were chastising her for it. After a few more
stretches she looked out into her yard and found Hayes hard at work.

They’d had some rough patches since his release from the
bottle but nothing they couldn’t get through with understanding and old-fashioned
talk. She still couldn’t believe how easily she’d adjusted to having him in her
life. The loner now depended on his presence for comfort, friendship and love.
Not so long ago she would have scoffed at that. Not now.

She leaned against the barn and watched as Hayes turned the
patch of ground he chose to plant his garden. Over the winter they’d discussed
what he would do. He confided that he’d always wanted a farm. Their property
wasn’t big but she figured he could use every inch he needed to make that dream
come true. Standing here watching him take the first step was amazing.

The smile never left his face as he worked. He truly was a
man made for hard labor. Hopefully one day Bill Day’s property would be
released by the bank and they could make an offer on it. That would give Hayes
all the room he needed to plant, and possibly raise horses.

Yeah, Bill Day. Funny how when she thought about him, there
was never any hint of remorse for her part in his sudden disappearance. The
police stopped once to ask if she’d seen him. A little white lie later and his
name never came up again.

He didn’t deserve her worry. Not after what he tried to do.
It wasn’t as if she killed him or anything. He was alive, maybe not well but
breathing somewhere in the world. How many times did he try to bully a master,
receiving harsh punishment for it before he understood his way of life needed
to change? Hopefully several.

Well, no more thought about that man. She needed to
concentrate on her sexy, loving future working in the yard. Oh yes, he was
loving. Even when they argued Hayes never stopped touching her or giving her
kisses. He made it impossible to stay angry.

“Do you have any idea how beautiful you are when you’re
smilin’?”

Chance jolted at the sound of his voice. Apparently she’d
been lost in thought as he approached. “You already have me, Hayes. No need for
flattery.” She reached out, laying her hand on his chest over his heart.

“It’s not flattery, darlin’. It’s the truth.” His hand
settled over hers, holding it there.

She could feel his heart rate escalate. It always did that
when she touched him.

“What are you grinnin’ about? Should I be worried?” Hayes
used his free hand, hooked his fingers under the strap of her tank top and
tugged her against his body.

“I was thinking how sometimes you have to walk through hell
to find heaven. I made a long trip but the reward is phenomenal.”

Hayes nodded. “I know what you mean.”

“More so than me,” she whispered. Her life might not have
been a bed of roses but he truly lived a kind of hell she couldn’t imagine.
“How’s that garden coming?”

“The ground is incredible,” he answered with a glow in his
eyes. “I shouldn’t have any trouble growing whatever I want in it. What do you
say about getting a few animals? Maybe some goats or something?”

Chance laughed, she couldn’t help it. His childlike
enthusiasm transferred into her with every new discovery. “Slow down, farmer
man. One step at a time. Get your garden growing, then we’ll see about animals.
Besides, eventually they have to free up that land.” She nodded toward the
strip of woods behind the barn. “Once it’s ours, you will have all the room in
the world to raise animals.”

Hayes wrapped his arm around her, rested his chin on top of
her head and gazed out at the tree line. “We haven’t talked much about him. Are
you dealin’ with it okay?”

“I’m fine,” she answered quickly. “Stop worrying about it.”

“You have a tender heart, Chance. I can’t help worryin’.”

She tilted her head back and gazed up at him. “I’ll say this
once and then the discussion is closed, so listen carefully. The way I see it,
if I hadn’t wished him into that bottle, you’d be dead. He would have done
horrid things to me before killing me so I couldn’t press charges. Neither of
us would be here. This way, no one died. You have your freedom, I have you and
he’s learning some awesome life lessons.”

Hayes gazed at her a bit and then nodded.

“Are we good?”

“No,” he replied, leaning down and kissing the tip of her
nose. “We’re great. How about giving me a hand with the garden?”

“Sure, my muscles could use some stretching.”

They walked hand in hand toward the patch of ground he dug.
“I can stretch those muscles for ya,” he growled.

Her stomach fluttered in anticipation. “I know you can and I
look forward to it.” The man had delicious ways of working her over. Good thing
they didn’t live close to any neighbors. The cops would be called nonstop
because of screaming. “You are running out of time to get crops planted so it
needs to wait.”

“I’m good at multitasking,” he teased.

Before she knew what happened, Hayes gripped her hips,
lifting her up. She shrieked, kicked and then wrapped her legs around him,
sending them both tumbling down into the fresh, moist dirt. She landed on top,
straddling his groin with her hands buried in the earth.

“See, I told ya I could multitask,” he laughed.

Suddenly he rolled, pinning her back to the ground and
pressing his erection between her legs. “You’re getting me all dirty,” she
chuckled.

Hayes shrugged. “I live to bathe you. Nothin’ better than
slidin’ my hands all over your wet, soapy body.”

She couldn’t stop the groan that rolled up out of her
throat. He did like doing that and she loved feeling it. His hands were
phenomenal, skilled and sinful. Every woman should be pampered the way he
indulged her. Of course, there was something to be said for bathing him as
well. She considered herself incredibly lucky to be allowed to touch his
chiseled body.

“Maybe we could cut work a little short today,” she offered.
All work, no play and such.

Hayes grinned, wiggling his eyebrows. He knew he had her
wrapped tight around his finger. The playful look slipped away as his gaze
fixed on something next to her head.

“What?” Oh God, was something crawling around, slithering
through the dirt? “Hayes, what the hell is it?”

He reached out, dug through the dirt and pulled. Out popped
an old, filthy bottle. They both stared at it. Chance could barely breathe. It
resembled his bottle, not exactly but close enough to send her into a panic.

“No, no, no.” She shoved at him, dragged herself out from
under his body and sat up. “Get rid of it.”

Hayes gripped the bottom of his shirt to wipe the dirt away.
Fear made her shackle his wrist in her hand. “Please don’t.”

“It’s just an old bottle, darlin’.”

Yeah, that’s what she thought seven months ago. Look what
happened. Nope. She didn’t want to risk it. One genie was enough. “Please,
Hayes. Don’t touch it.”

“It feels warm,” he muttered, holding it up toward the
light. “I can’t see through it.”

With her heart lodged in her throat, she spared a hesitant
glance. Oh hell. Did she see a glowing light in there or was it the sun
reflecting through the foggy glass?

“You could clean this up and sell it at the shop.”

“Yeah, sure.” She snatched it out of his hand before he
rubbed the glass. “I’ll do that. I’ll just put it in the car so I can take it
in later today.” Chance scrambled out of the loose dirt and rushed toward the
car where she opened the door and tossed it on the seat.

When she turned, Hayes stood there, his arms crossed and a
suspicious look fixed on his handsome face. “What?”

“You think that’s a genie bottle.”

“Maybe it is, maybe it isn’t. I’m not interested in finding
out.”

“Do you know what the chances are it is?”

“Too damn good for me,” she muttered.

“One in about five million, Chance. You have a better shot
at getting’ eaten by a shark than you do findin’ another genie.”

The humor in his voice irritated her. “Those are damn good
odds if you ask me,” she murmured. “Let’s just forget about it, okay?”

“Was I that awful as a genie?”

Oh he was having fun with this. “Okay, let’s rub it and see
what pops out. Maybe it’ll be a tall, dark, handsome, sexy genie who caters to
my every whim and falls at my feet, swearing to bring my deepest, darkest
desires to life.”

“Never mind,” he grumbled with a frown. “Leave the damn
thing in the car. I get your point.”

She stepped up to him, lodged herself against his body,
reached around and gripped his toned ass. “Don’t worry, farmer man. I’ve got
everything I could ever desire right here. No genie is going to make me want
more.”

“Still, I think you should take it to the shop and give it
away.”

“Now why didn’t I think of that?” Chance smacked her
forehead.

Hayes swept her up in his arms, stomping toward the house.

“What are you doing?” Not that she minded being carried by
him.

“Your sarcasm turns me on. I think it’s time to stretch
those muscles a bit.”

* * * * *

Later that evening Chance drove into town with a goofy grin
plastered on her face. Hayes worked her muscles, all right. He stretched and
massaged every inch of her body for nearly two hours. After forty-five minutes
of begging him for release, it dawned on her his extra loving attention had
more to do with proving he could please her better than any other genie than
working out her stiff muscles.

Maybe she shouldn’t have teased him so soon after being
freed from his bottle, but hell, if that’s what he did she might tease him
more. The bottle they’d found rolled on the floor, bringing her attention back
to current matters. That thing had to go.

Sure, the chances of it being a genie were slim to none but
she wasn’t about to test the odds. Some other unsuspecting soul could find out.
She’d done her time with all the rules and magic.

Chance parked in front of the shop, grabbed the bottle and
hurried inside the store.

“Whatcha got there?” Jenny asked.

“An old bottle Hayes found digging his garden. I thought I’d
sell it.” She placed the bottle on a shelf, dirt and all.

“Why didn’t you clean it up?”

“I thought the dirt added charm.” Chance did a quick
inventory of what she had, moved a few things around and ten minutes before she
closed, a man strolled in.

“Am I too late to browse?” he asked politely.

“Not at all. Take your time.” She never chased a potential
customer away, even if she was locking the door. While the man browsed, Chance
pulled up her website and checked her sales.

After a few minutes, the man approached the counter with the
bottle in his hand. “This is interesting. I love old bottles. How much is it?”

“A dollar.” She almost said free, anything to make it go
away.

“That’s all?” The man pulled out his wallet and tossed a ten
on the counter. “Keep it. Something tells me this old bottle is worth much
more.”

“Would you like a bag?” A pair of oven mitts, maybe a metal
box to keep it in?

“No, thank you. Have a nice evening, and you have a
wonderful shop.”

“Thanks,” she whispered as the man strolled out the door.
She plopped down in her chair and blew out a long breath. Gone. It was gone and
she didn’t have to worry about it now.

Nope, no worries for her about anything other than how she
and Hayes were going to spend the evening when she got home. A wicked grin
spread across her lips. Maybe tonight she would see how he felt about bondage.

Robin Leigh Miller lives in central Pennsylvania with her
wonderful husband, three children and two German Shepherds. A retired dirt-track
driver, Robin now gets her adrenaline fix by putting her characters through
their paces.

Robin welcomes comments from readers. You can find her
website and email addresses on her
author bio page
at
www.ellorascave.com
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Whiskey Bottle Lover

ISBN 9781419946042

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Whiskey Bottle Lover Copyright © 2013 Robin Leigh Miller

Edited by Beverly Horne

Cover design by Valerie Tibbs

Cover photography by Kostudio, Dusan Zidar/Shutterstock.com and
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Electronic book publication April 2013

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