Page 75 of Tennessee Trouble

“You have an employee named Moose?” I ask, trying to change the subject.

“Last name is Alces, which is Spanish for moose,” Rory explains. “Nickname caught on when we were kids and stuck. Can’t remember the last time anyone actually called him James.”

“Fair.” I shrug. What else is there to say to that?

“How’s the experiment coming?” Rory asks, walking into the lab instead of disappearing like I wish he would. I will him to do an about-face and march right on out of here, but he doesn’t seem to hear my telepathic plea. Either that or he ignores it.

Probably the latter.

I’m not saying that Rory has a thing for Lindee—at least not in that way. But he’s definitely protective. He’s got a good twenty-five years on her and acts like it’s his personal mission to watch out for her. As annoying as that is in this moment, there is a part of me that likes knowing there are people watching out for her. A team that has her back.

“It’s…coming…” Lindee shrugs.

“That’s what she said…” I mutter, unable to hold back.

Sputtering out a laugh, Lindee swats at me, giving me a look that silently tells me to behave myself. I plan on doing no such thing.

“You know, when the Scots first developed whiskey—because it was the Scots, not the Irish—they called it uisge beatha. Water of life.”

I turn to Lindee, trying to hold back my laugh. She warned me that first weekend here that Rory managed to work in the Scottish inventing whiskey whenever he found an in, but I didn’t think she really meant every time. Sure enough, if he finds the teeniest, tiniest crack, he views it as an in, and all bets are off.

The look she gives me in return doesn’t help me hold back my outburst. I told you so is written all over her face.

“Consider going with that,” Rory continues, oblivious to our silent conversation. “You can’t go wrong with⁠—”

A whistle sounds somewhere in the distillery, stealing Rory’s attention. Giving us a solemn, quick nod, he turns to go without another word.

“Who wants to tell him that that the method of distillation was originally developed in the Middle East and then brought to Scotland and Ireland by monks?”

“Ha!” Lindee scoffs. “Let’s not open that can of worms. Besides, I’m more concerned with telling him that the base for this drink is moonshine and not whiskey.”

I sit up straight, the idea hitting me like a lightning bolt. Like I’m one of those old-school cartoon characters with a light bulb over my head that instantly turns on as soon as he has a thought. That’s me right now. Here’s hoping it’s a good thought.

“What if you did both?”

Lindee swivels on her stool, looking at me like I’ve lost my mind. Maybe I have. Then again…maybe not.

“Both?” she repeats. “As in moonshine and whiskey?”

“Yeah. You’ll need to find the right mix, and then some solid flavors to balance the two out, but talk about unique and unforgettable.”

“That’s insane.” Lindee laughs a little, then pauses, pursing her lips. “But, it might also be crazy enough to work.”

She’s on her feet in the blink of an eye, knocking over her stool as she leaps. I manage to catch it before it hits the ground, simultaneously moving out of the way of her flailing arms. Lindee is moving as fast as the Tasmanian Devil right now, grabbing ingredients and shuffling things around.

Then she stops.

“I don’t know what’s going to complement⁠—”

“Use honey instead of sugar for your simple syrup, and then mint, lemon, and blackberries,” I say, cutting her off. “That’ll complement the whiskey, plus the lemon and mint will give it some zest.”

“You’re a genius.”

We get to work, muddling, mixing, and mashing our way through different combinations. At one point I run to the fridge to get us both bottles of water, our attempts starting to go to our heads. As much fun as it is to get tipsy with this beauty, right now we need to remain clearheaded for the task at hand.

We can save the rest for later. Once we’ve nailed something down.

“Okay, try this one.” Lindee hands me a glass, ice clinking as it moves. “I muddled the lemon earlier, and I added a couple of extra mint leaves.”