Small Town Big Rumors: The Tequila Rose Duet
SMALL TOWN, BIG RUMORS
THE TEQUILA ROSE DUET
WILLOW WINTERS
CONTENTS
Also by Willow Winters
Tequila Rose
1. Magnolia
2. Magnolia
3. Magnolia
4. Brody
5. Magnolia
6. Brody
7. Magnolia
8. Brody
9. Magnolia
10. Brody
11. Magnolia
12. Brody
13. Magnolia
14. Brody
15. Magnolia
16. Brody
17. Magnolia
18. Brody
19. Magnolia
20. Brody
21. Magnolia
22. Brody
23. Magnolia
Autumn Night Whiskey
Prologue
24. Magnolia
25. Robert
26. Brody
27. Magnolia
28. Magnolia
29. Brody
30. Robert
31. Magnolia
32. Brody
33. Magnolia
34. Magnolia
35. Magnolia
36. Brody
37. Magnolia
38. Magnolia
39. Robert
40. Magnolia
41. Magnolia
42. Brody
Epilogue
Also by Willow Winters
Revel Romance
About Willow Winters
Copyright © 2021 by Willow Winters
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Cover Design by Lori Jackson Design
ALSO BY WILLOW WINTERS
Small Town Romance
Tequila Rose Book 1
Autumn Night Whiskey Book 2
A Little Bit Dirty
Contemporary Romance Standalones
Knocking Boots (A Novel)
Promise Me (A Novel)
Tell Me To Stay (A Novella)
Second Chance (A Novella)
Burned Promises (A Novella)
You Are Mine World
You Are My Reason (You Are Mine Duet book 1)
You Are My Hope (You Are Mine Duet book 2)
You Know I Love You
You Know I Need You
Tell Me You Want Me
Valetti Crime Family Series:
A HOT mafia series to sink your teeth into.
Dirty Dom
His Hostage
Rough Touch
Cuffed Kiss
Bad Boy
Those Boys Are Trouble (Valetti Crime Family Collection)
To Be Claimed Saga
A hot tempting series of fated love, lust-filled secrets and the beginnings of an epic war.
Wounded Kiss
Gentle Scars
Read Willow’s sexiest and most talked about romances in the Merciless World
This Love Hurts Trilogy
This Love Hurts
But I Need You
And I Love You the Most
What I Would do for You (This Love Hurts Trilogy Collection)
A Kiss to Tell (a standalone novel)
Possessive (a standalone novel)
Merciless Saga
Merciless
Heartless
Breathless
Endless
All He’ll Ever Be (Merciless Series Collection of all 4 novels)
Irresistible Attraction Trilogy
A Single Glance
A Single Kiss
A Single Touch
Irresistible Attraction (A Single Glance Trilogy Collection)
Hard to Love Series
Hard to Love
Desperate to Touch
Tempted to Kiss
Easy to Fall
Not My Heart to Break (Hard to Love Series Collection)
Shame on You Series
Tease Me Once
I’ll Kiss You Twice
Love the Way Series (A Merciless World Spin Off)
Kiss Me
Hold Me
Love Me
Extended epilogues to the Merciless World Novels
A Kiss To Keep (more of Sebastian and Chloe)
Seductive (more of Daniel and Addison)
Effortless (more of Carter and Aria)
Never to End (more of Seth and Laura)
Sexy, thrilling with a touch of dark Standalone Novels
Broken (Standalone)
Forget Me Not (Standalone novel)
It’s Our Secret (Standalone novel)
Collections of shorts and novellas
Don’t Let Go
A collection of stories including:
Infatuation
Desires in the Night and Keeping Secrets
Bad Boy Next Door
Kisses and Wishes
A collection of holiday stories including:
One Holiday Wish
Collared for Christmas
Stolen Mistletoe Kisses
All I Want is a Kiss (A Holiday short)
Highest Bidder Series:
Bought
Sold
Owned
Given
Highest Bidder Collection (All four Highest Bidder Novels)
Bad Boy Standalones, cowritten with Lauren Landish:
Inked
Tempted
Mr. CEO
Simply Irresistible (A Bad Boy Collection)
Forsaken, (A Dark Romance cowritten with B. B. Hamel)
View Willow’s entire collection and full reading order at willowwinterswrites.com/reading-order
Happy reading and best wishes,
Willow x
TEQUILA ROSE
He tasted like tequila and the fake name I gave him was Rose.
Four years ago, I decided to get over one man by getting under another. It was supposed to be a single night and nothing more.
I found my handsome stranger with a shot glass at the end of the bar, along with a charming but devilish smile. The desire that filled his eyes the second they landed on me ignited a spark inside me, instant and hot. He was perfect and everything I didn’t know I needed. That one night may have ended too soon, but I left with much more than a memory.
Four years later, and with a three-year-old in tow, I’m back home in the quiet little town I grew up in. As the man I still dream about stares at me from across the street, the flash of recognition and the heat in his gaze are unmistakable.
The chemistry between us is still there, even after all these years.
I just hope the secrets and regrets don’t destroy our second chance before it’s even begun.
MAGNOLIA
Four years ago
College campus on the East Coast
I lie to myself. That’s what a person does when they’re hurt. They say they’re not hurt at all.
“I’m fine … and Robert can go fuck himself.” The additional statement is an extra special truth to make the lie okay. I’m dead set on the words coming out of my mouth even though I’m alone in my apartment with no one here to listen to my declaration. The ball of anxiousness and betrayal in my throat lodges itself deep at the mere mention of his name. Funny enough, every gulp of Sweet Red I take seems to ease that cruel combo down and shrink it so I can swallow the bitter breakup.
Wine and cupcakes. That’s what I’ve been working with tonight. I could eat a dozen cupcakes right now, but I only had
two left over … and even the remnants of the frosting on their containers is gone. So now I’m down to just wine.
Alcohol, sweets and trash TV is supposed to be how a girl deals with a breakup, right?
I’m trying my darnedest to take all this in stride, but it freaking hurts. I’ve never been with anyone else. I’ve never loved anyone else. I don’t even know how to handle a “breakup.” If I can even call it that. He dumped me. Plain and simple. My high school sweetheart, the man I’ve been with for five years dumped me, and he did it over a freaking phone call.
Tears prick the back of my eyes remembering how we just slept together when I was home last week and how adamantly I believed the words that came out of his mouth when he told me he loved me. I feel so stupid for believing him. I’m a fool for having no idea that this was going to happen.
I need more cupcakes. Shoot, maybe I should buy a full-blown cake at this point.
I pick up the half-empty bottle of red wine and pour another helping into the pale pink mug. You can achieve any goal you can dream is printed on the other side of it in a silver, feminine script. My goal right now: get wasted. And yes, I can achieve it. One point for me.
I don’t own shot glasses, but a bottle of citrus vodka is next. Not having wineglasses didn’t hinder the wine, so why should a lack of shot glasses hinder the vodka? Two weeks ago, when I turned twenty-one and partied in my hometown to celebrate the last year I’d have away at college, my best friend, Renee, poured all the shots that night and left me the bottle. She’s a bartender back at home. Moving away from one of South Carolina’s coastal Sea Islands was insane for me to do in Renee’s eyes. She’s never had any intention of leaving. Not for college, not for anything. She loves the boating life and sea breeze. As do my other friends.
Maybe that’s why Robert ended it. This long-distance relationship is too much all of a sudden. That doesn’t make sense, though. Maybe it was the long distance that kept him from severing the relationship. In less than a year, I’ll be back in our small town and it wouldn’t be a long-distance relationship anymore. Maybe he could deal with me far away, but in reality he didn’t want me anymore. I just don’t understand. Ugh, that hurts, that deep-seated insecurity that just burrowed into the pit of my stomach.
“Another gulp it is,” I joke bitterly and toss the mug back.
I’ll be fine. I know I will.
In fact, I’ll be better than fine.
I have everything going for me and now I’m free … and Robert can go fuck himself. I clink my empty mug with an imaginary one in front of me. It takes a half second for me to break into a grin and laugh at just how pathetic this is.
The clank of the mug hitting my coffee table makes me wince and then a small chuckle leaves me as my shoulders hunch. “Oops.”
With my pointer tapping the soft tip of my nose, I take a look around my trashed apartment. After our very short-lived phone call this afternoon where he took all of ten minutes to tell me it was over, barely letting me get a word in, I threw out everything that reminded me of my POS ex. Which didn’t leave me with much. There are lots of soft blues and pops of lavender and pink in the décor that remains. Especially in the mugs, the throw pillows and blankets. Nearly all of my pictures are gone … I shouldn’t have thrown away those frames.
A whitewashed frame holding an eight-by-ten of Renee, Sharon, Autumn and me takes up the full shelf to the right of the TV. The rest of the shelving unit no longer exists.
Dammit.
Robert and I promised each other under our special angel oak tree back home that we would be together forever. No, it wasn’t a proposal, but it was a promise.
Not one he meant to keep, apparently.
We made that promise when we were still kids, but it meant something to me.
The sofa groans as I lean back into it, pulling my knees into my chest. I had no idea he didn’t love me anymore. That’s what is really getting to me. It’s like whiplash. We were just together, laughing, holding each other’s hands. He kissed my knuckles in front of all of our friends. Even his smile …
I can’t. Blinking rapidly, I stand up abruptly and force those memories out of my head. With the press of the clicker, music videos take over the screen—sorry, housewives—and I turn up the volume to something that sounds like a mix of country and pop.
The lyrics elude me, but I like the beat. It guides me to my closet and that’s when I hear the chorus and recognize the song.
Even though my face is blotchy from crying, makeup will cover it.
I refuse to wallow in my living room and pity myself.
Renee told me most men kiss the same but then there are others who are different.
I’ve only kissed one man my whole life. Tonight, I’m going to find out if he’s one of the ones who kisses the same. Or if his was different.
Pausing my motions as I pull a red chiffon shift dress out of the closet, I realize that means I’d have to kiss more than one man. Because what if they are different? If two kisses are different, the one from some random guy tonight compared to the ones Rob gave me … then how would I know which guy gave the same type of kiss that every other guy gives?
A groan slips from my lips as I pull the dress off the hanger completely and then rub a hand down my face.
That’s too complicated. I’ll just call it what it is. Revenge sex, a rebound, a fling. That’s what I want tonight. And I aim to get it. My father may think I’m a Southern belle, but a scorned woman is a scorned woman and that’s just what I am.
Cupcakes and alcohol at eleven at night can’t steer me wrong, right?
MAGNOLIA
I’m not second-guessing the red dress; red is a confident color, and a color to wear for good luck, at that. With my blond wavy hair only slightly brushed so it’s a bit wild, the simple dress makes me look a bit more refined. But I’m starting to question what I was thinking when I picked out these heels. I try not to wince or make it too noticeable as I carefully slip the right one off just a little. Just a teeny tiny bit for some relief. I’m seated at the bar so I don’t think a soul notices.
The Louis Vuittons were a birthday gift from my dad. They’re expensive, utterly gorgeous, and brand new, ergo not broken in. My feet are killing me after walking from my apartment complex to Main Street where the string of bars was waiting for me. It’s only a mile, and in flip-flops or sneakers it’s an easy walk. Nice even. But in these heels … My bottom lip drops just slightly, letting a low hiss slip out as the mix of agony and relief swirl and hit me harder than the liquor has all night.
Mistake number one tonight: these heels.
I’ll definitely be taking an Uber home.
“What’ll it be?” the bartender asks me, and I peek up at him. I lost a lot of my courage on the way down here. The tipsiness is waning far too quickly. I picked the Blue Room because a friend from class, Michelle, usually hangs out here. She’s nowhere in sight, though.
“My friend gets a drink here … something like Cherry ...” I let my voice trail off and hope he knows what I’m talking about. The handsome man has to be in his late thirties judging by the faint wrinkles around his brown eyes. His hair, a little longer than I prefer in men, is swept back and the color matches his black tie. The Blue Room has a fabulous dress code for their employees, in my opinion. It’s all white dresses just above knee length for the women, and crisp white dress shirts rolled up to the elbows for the men. With the skinny tie he’s wearing, I have to admit it’s a sleek, sexy look that matches the décor in this place. It’s a nod at a speakeasy, I think.
“It’s called Cherry something,” I say and chew my lip, trying to remember the name.
Michelle ordered a round when I got back from my birthday celebration in Beaufort. “It’s delicious but I don’t remember the name,” I add when he gives me a look like he has no idea what I’m talking about.
Shoot.
“Berry Drop?” a bartender a few feet away chimes in. He’s the same height, but a smaller build than
the man standing on the other side of the polished wooden counter in front of me.