Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 75592 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75592 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
I put music on low and head away from Blackburn Farms. It only takes about five minutes of driving before I’m turning down a road that causes her head to turn my way. “We’re going to the distillery?”
“Yup,” I reply, shooting her a wink.
“It’s a little late for a tour,” she says.
“That it is and you really need to see it while it’s operating, but I’m going to show you something else. Just be patient.” She harrumphs and I ask, “How was Sylvie’s day? I texted her and she said it was great but she was exhausted.”
That keeps Kat occupied, telling me about horse camp, and by the time we’re pulling into Mardraggon Distillery, the first manufacturing plant where our bourbon was created back in 1842, Kat seems more at ease.
We exit the vehicle and I take Kat’s hand again. The parking lot is well lit, and surprisingly, she doesn’t pull away. A security guard stands at the glass side-office door and moves to greet me as I use my keys to open it.
“Mr. Mardraggon, this is a nice surprise,” he says.
“Hi, Marshall. I’m here to show my guest the tank.”
“It’s a beautiful night for that,” the man says, bobbing his head.
“Indeed.” Kat smiles at the guard and we move past him. I lead her down a maze of halls and then through an exit door at the back of the building.
We’re immediately hit with the sound of gurgling water, compliments of a fresh water stream that meanders through the property. To the left is a large cylindrical metal tank with a steel ladder attached to the outside that extends all the way up. The roof is conical but not steeply pitched. A walkway fashioned around the top is bordered by safety railing.
“I seem to remember you’re not afraid of heights,” I say, sweeping my hand toward the ladder.
“No, I’m not, but that thing is tall enough you could throw me off the top and kill me,” she replies tartly.
“Then I guess we’ll see how much you trust me,” I say, moving to the ladder and starting the climb. The tank is not overly tall, about eighteen feet high and twenty-five feet wide. “This was Mardraggon’s first fermentation tank once we refined our process. It’s no longer in use and just ornamentation now.”
“Is it safe?” I hear from behind me and I can tell she’s begun the climb.
“Very safe,” I assure her.
I arrive at the top and step to the side on the walkway to give her room. I take her elbow to steady her as she moves from the top rung of the ladder. She ignores the railing, apparently secure in the belief I won’t toss her over.
“Come on,” I say, moving around the diameter until we reach the other side of the tank, and that’s when Kat lets out a gasp of delight.
Stretched out below us is the stream and along both sides are hundreds of glass globe lights staked into the ground. They’re of varying sizes and illuminate the grassy banks as the stream meanders around a copse of trees and disappears.
“What is that?” she whispers as I take her hand and point to the slanted roof for her to sit.
She does and I ease down beside her, stretching my legs and leaning back on my hands. “Alaine did that,” I say softly, staring at the lights.
Kat’s head whips my way. “She did? When?”
“A visit a few years ago. Sylvie was seven I think, and they’d come to visit me here at the distillery. Sylvie loved playing by the stream… hell, in the stream. She and Alaine would make picnic lunches and I’d go eat with them. Alaine was a stargazer and they’d come out here at night.”
“A special place,” Kat murmurs.
“I’d like to bring Sylvie here at night sometime, if it’s okay with you. We’ll figure a convenient time.”
Kat’s silent, drawing her knees up and wrapping her arms around her shins. “You can bring her on your own. You don’t need me to chaperone. I’ll work it out with Ethan.”
I twist my neck to look at her. “Why the sudden change of heart as to my fitness as a guardian?”
Resting her cheek on her knee, she looks at me. “It wasn’t sudden. It was proven over time and besides, I wouldn’t be sleeping with you if I ever thought you could hurt Sylvie.”
My hand goes to her back and I stroke it lightly. I don’t know how much of the impishness she can see in my smile because it’s dark up here. “And might I be sleeping with you tonight?”
“No,” she says, her white teeth gleaming through the shadows and I hear the playfulness in her tone. “But perhaps tomorrow night.”
Laughing, I scoot closer and wrap my arm around her. She surprisingly cuddles in, putting her head on my shoulder.