Drunk on You

Drunk on You

by Teri Anne Stanley

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Justin Morgan would happily drown the pain of his injured leg-and the guilt he brought back from Afghanistan-in bourbon. Except, there won't be any booze if he doesn't rescue his family's century-old distillery from financial ruin. The problem? Allie McGrath-youngest daughter of the distillery's co-owners, and the one woman he can't have.

Allie has been in love with Justin since...well, she's always been in love with him. Now he's home, broken up over the death of her brother, and he needs help. She can fix the distillery-she's sure of it-but no one's taking her or her sweet new idea seriously. Convincing Justin is her only hope.

Allie is more tempting than Justin expected, threatening a promise he swore he'd never break. If he can't keep their attraction under control, there's a solid chance they'll send the whole enterprise crumbling to the ground...if he doesn't crash and burn first.

Each book in the Bourbon Brothers series is a standalone story that can be enjoyed out of order.
Series Order:
Book #1 Drunk on You
Book #2 A Shot with You
Book #3 A Taste of You

Product Details

ISBN-13: 9781633752603
Publisher: Entangled Publishing, LLC
Publication date: 07/21/2015
Series: Bourbon Brothers , #1
Sold by: Macmillan
Format: NOOK Book
Pages: 273
Sales rank: 491,493
File size: 2 MB

About the Author

Teri Anne Stanley has been writing since she could hold a crayon--though learning to read was a huge turning point in her growth as a writer. Teri's first stories involved her favorite Saturday morning cartoon characters, followed by her favorite teen idols. She has also authored a recipe column (The Three Ingredient Gourmet), and scientific articles (Guess which was more interesting!). Now she writes fun, sexy romance filled love, angst and nekkid parts.

Teri's career has included sex therapy for rats, making posing suits for female body builders, and helping amputee amphibians recover to their full potential. She currently supplements her writing income as a neuroscience research assistant. Along with a variety of teenagers and dogs, she and Mr. Stanley live just outside of Sugartit, which is-honest to God-between Beaverlick, and Rabbit Hash, Kentucky.

Read an Excerpt

Drunk on You

A Bourbon Boys Story

By Teri Anne Stanley, Robin Haseltine

Entangled Publishing, LLC

Copyright © 2015 Tracy M. Hopkin
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-63375-260-3


Eight years ago

Ladies' room, Blue Grass Airport, Lexington, Kentucky

"Allie McGrath, I'm not going to stand here holding all this stuff while you brush your teeth again," Eve said. "I can't believe you brought your toothbrush to the airport. That's just ... nasty. Airport bathrooms are nasty. Get some gum. I'll even pay for it."

Allie ignored her older sister and dug in her purse for dental floss. She'd gone to too much trouble to get ready for this homecoming to ruin it all by greeting her marine with poor dental hygiene.

Eve rolled her eyes and followed Allie into the restroom, lugging the red, white, and blue balloons and the giant Welcome Home, Justin poster that was covered with kisses Allie had made with her own lips and red lipstick.

As Allie brushed and flossed for the third time that day, she checked her appearance in the mirror. "Do you think this shirt highlights my pudge?" She pinched her waist.

"You don't have any pudge. You've Pilates'ed yourself into oblivion. I can't believe you've gone to this much trouble for someone you've known your whole life."

Allie stared at Eve in the mirror. "You have to ask me this?"

"He and David spent a whole spring break in our family room one year learning to make arm farts." And then he'd spent his entire allowance on Allie's extra unsold Girl Scout cookies. Even the furniture-polish-flavored ones that no one liked.

"But now it's different. He's more than just our brother's best friend," Allie protested.

She turned sideways. The top was a little clingy around the waist, but it did make her boobs look bigger. Of course, Victoria's Secret helped with that, too. She sucked in her stomach. "I should have worn a skirt. These pants aren't nice enough."

"A skirt would have been too much. The chances that Justin even bothered to put on clean camouflage for the plane ride are pretty slim."

Allie regarded Eve. She didn't get it. Her sister was being pretty supportive, though, considering she thought Allie was making a big mistake in coming here at all. But Allie knew what she was doing. Justin would be so glad to see her ... she was, after all, "his girl."

He'd said so, in his last email:

Thanks for the goodies. The guys think I'm the shit with a sweet young thing sending me stuff, along with those notes. They're all jealous.

Be my girl and don't stop! Can't wait to see you when I get home next month.

Allie knew it was childish, but she'd printed that email and taped it into the journal she'd used for the last half of senior year at Crockett County High.

"Come on, Al, it's time to go."

Her stomach dropped. She'd been so focused on this moment for so long, now that it was finally here, she thought she might throw up from nerves. Fortunately, she had a toothbrush with her if that happened ...

"Just a minute. I've got to pee." She shut herself into a stall and stood there for a second, breathing deeply.

A toilet flushed, and another stall opened. Someone said, "Hi, Eve. What are you doing here?"

"Waiting for my sister."

"Who are you —?" There was a pause. "Oh, isn't that a nice poster. Justin Morgan, huh?"

Who was that? The voice was familiar, but Allie couldn't place it.

"Who are you meeting?" Eve sounded wary, a little chilly even.

"Oh, an old friend," the person answered. Water ran, and then the paper towel dispenser ground, drowning out whatever Eve said in response.

"Okay, well, y'all have fun," said the voice.

Allie came out of the stall and looked around. "Who was that?" she asked, washing her own hands.

"Al, maybe we should head home and wait for Justin there. You know he'll come over as soon as his mom and dad let him."

"What's wrong with you?" Allie took the balloons and the sign.

Eve opened her mouth, but shut it again.

Allie walked out of the bathroom. "Oh, heck! We're gonna be late!" She hurried through the baggage claim area to the security zone, waiting for the love of her life to come striding through the concourse. She was so ready to greet him. She'd even been to the clinic and gotten on the pill, because she planned to lose her virginity to Justin just as soon as she got him alone.

There was a crowd of people ahead of Allie watching for loved ones to come through the gate, so she hung back. That would give her more room for a running start when he finally appeared.

A rustle went through the crowd, and she stood on tiptoe to see over the heads in front of her. An Amazonian blonde, in particular, was wrecking her view.

A few people came through the gate, and then a whole crowd. Allie couldn't see anything. She pushed her way forward, through the throng, and there he was.

Justin Morgan. Her marine, all six feet two, two hundred pounds of gorgeous USMC hotness. His blue eyes pierced the crowd, searching, the ever-present half smile on his face, waiting to bloom into the full-fledged shit-eating grin that Allie had loved forever.

She froze in place watching him approach. He was close now. Her face was hot. This was really happening.

"Hey, there's my girl!" His voice rang out, deep and true.

He stopped about six feet away, those teeth as straight and white as ever. God, Allie loved him.

The searing pain of her shattered heart kept her from puking when he swept the statuesque blonde into his arms and thrust his tongue down her throat.



Crockett County, Kentucky

"I've got it, Grandma," Justin promised, hoisting the ancient fur coat from where she'd dropped it in the valet parking lane before the furry abomination was mistaken for roadkill.

"You make sure you get a ticket from that coat check girl. She screws it up otherwise." Grandma shook her finger. "We always wind up standing an extra half hour while she looks for my wrap."

"That's because she wants to get in my pants," Grandpa said, wiggling his eyebrows.

"It's a wonder I've stayed married to you long enough to have this ridiculous anniversary party." Grandma smacked Gramps on the shoulder, but they held hands as they made their way toward the ballroom of the Crockett County Country Club.

Justin sighed and turned toward the cloakroom. The generous shot of bourbon he drank before leaving home hadn't been quite enough.

He'd spent part of his youth here at "the club" — lifeguarding at the pool and caddying at the golf course — because even though they might be an old bourbon family, their dad was determined that his boys would learn to work for their money. He'd also brought his prom date to dinner here and learned to play tennis and to schmooze with the good old boys — but now he felt like an alien from planet Armageddon among these civilians with their happy, normal lives.

He was just here for this anniversary party and to say hello to his family — and the McGraths — whom he'd been avoiding since Dave died. Not that it was hard to be too busy to call from a war zone, but it was rude, and he'd promised Dave ...

Yeah, he'd promised Dave he'd look in on his sisters, especially Allie. Little redheaded Allie with the funny cards and packages. That had dried up a few years ago, even before Dave died, but she must have discovered boys and forgotten about his crusty old soul. Just as well. Someone as sweet and innocent as Allie didn't need to be worrying about him and his toxic world. He went to war so people like her didn't have to live through it. Except he didn't do that anymore, did he? He was a civilian now.

Maybe he needed, as his brother, Brandon, had suggested, to go out and meet a girl and have a good time. He was going to be in town for only a few days, and he wasn't sure he could dig out the Justin Morgan charm he'd once been infamous for. But a distraction would be nice ... for a while.

The half door stood open. The four hundred-year-old coat check woman wasn't at her post, so Justin walked into the dim room to stash Grandma's coat. He stepped around the end of the coatrack and plowed crotch-first into the finest backside he'd encountered, ass-up, in quite some time — possibly ever.

"Yeep!" The voice attached to the perfect ass squealed and the rest of the body straightened and turned to face him.


"Excuse me. Er, didn't see you there." Justin reached out to steady the woman as she wobbled on high heels. She was a blonde, he could see that much, but her features were backlit by the setting sun shining through the window. Her perfume seemed almost familiar. He breathed deeply of ... home and ... peace.

She slid the coat hanger she held onto the rack.

He wondered what color her eyes were. And if those glossy lips tasted as juicy as they looked. Shaking it off, he released his hold on her smooth arm and backed up a step, admiring the silky red dress she wore. Not tight or revealing, but definitely clingy. Subtle, yet ...obvious.

"Ah ..." She shook her head and asked, "Do you need help with your fine mink coat, sir?"

He held up Grandma's ridiculous fur. It was heavy enough for an Eskimo, even though it was late spring. "You don't look like the coat check lady I remember."

"Really? People tell me I'm the spitting image of her."

"Interesting," Justin said. "I didn't know there was anyone here old enough to have been around during the Civil War, who'd have known her in her youth."

The woman giggled, and Justin realized he was actually flirting. And enjoying himself. He'd drunk just enough to wonder ... Would it be tacky to hit on the coat check girl? She seemed familiar. Maybe they'd worked together at the pool back in their younger days?

"You're a flatterer, aren't you? You know she was born during the Renaissance."

Those lips curled, making Justin want to lean forward and taste them. Damn. Okay, Brandon, you win. I'll ask her out.

"Well, it's clear you haven't been around nearly that long. As a matter of fact, I was just thinking that maybe you'd sneak away from here after a while and dance with me."

"Hmm ... Are we talking the Macarena, or the Electric Slide?"

"I was thinking something slower and closer."

"Ah. Well, then. I guess I'll have to think about that."

"Well, don't think too long." He wasn't sure how long he'd be able to stand it here among the normal people. He summoned a chuckle then and held out his hand. "I'm Justin Morgan. And you are ...?"

"Seriously?" She didn't take his hand, but put hers on her hips.

"Yeah? Come on, babe, give me a shot." He dusted off his trademarked crooked smile. "It's not my best pickup line, but you get the idea, right?"

She nodded. "Yeah, unfortunately, I do." She handed him the hanger she'd just put away as she brushed past. "Get your grandma a ticket, Justin, otherwise she'll bitch about the coat check lady flirting with Gramps."

The dust left Justin's brain with an artillery blast as he realized whom he was trying to pick up in the coatroom. He stuck his head through the door in time to see her walk down the hall. Holy shit. "Hey, Allie. When did you go blond?"

* * *

"Come on, Allie, you're going to have to go out there and see him sooner or later," Eve said.

Allie wrinkled her brow in her best, "What are you talking about?" expression, running a finger under her eye to remove a mascara smudge. She tugged at her new blond highlights. Maybe she'd gone too far? Nah, she was still definitely ginger. To everyone but certain buttface jerkheads.

It was clear that Eve wasn't buying what she was trying to sell, but the most awesome sister ever wasn't going to call her on her bullshit — yet.

"You know Justin's out there."

"Really? I'd forgotten he was back in town."

Eve rolled her eyes.

Okay, maybe that was taking it a little too far. Eve had seen Allie slam into the bathroom, and Allie had heard Eve say, "Hi, Justin," right before she followed her in.

She'd managed to live a well-rounded, boyfriend-filled life without being ego-bashed by Justin Morgan for the past seven years, ten months, three days, and fourteen hours — give or take — apparently biding her time until she could make a fool of herself. Again.

"What happened when you saw him?" Eve pressed.

Allie sighed, giving in. "He flirted with me in the coatroom when I was hanging up our stuff."

"Really?" Eve's big dark eyes widened, her perfect red lips forming an O.

"And I bought it. It was like he waved his magic wang, and I totally forgot how I'm not a gullible teenager anymore. Right up until I realized that he had no idea who I was."

"Oh." Now Eve had on her best indignant-sister face. If she weren't so sincere, Allie would hate her for always having the right sympathetic emotion to toss out there when needed. Allie shrugged.

"Come on, we've got to go out there sometime. Might as well get it over with," Eve coaxed.

Allie's laugh sounded forced, even to her own ears — and her sister was a million and seven times more perceptive than anyone else Allie knew. But she persisted. "It's fine. God, I can't believe you think I'm still twisted up over that ... that ... airport thing."

"You did cry for three weeks straight, eat your weight — and mine — in Cherry Garcia ice cream, and play Patsy Cline's Greatest Hits until the CD melted. I think we both know you were crushed when he came home to Merilee."

It hadn't helped when Allie realized that it had been Merilee — Justin's high school sweetheart and psycho bitch from hell — to whom Eve had been speaking in the restroom that day, and when the beyotch finished trying to swallow Justin's tongue, she'd turned and winked at Allie.

"But then I turned up the Miranda Lambert and moved on." Or at least, learned to pretend Justin's non-betrayal — because he'd never considered her his girl at all — hadn't meant anything. But the truth was, she had been devastated. And embarrassed. And mortified. And heartbroken.

Gah! Enough. It totally didn't matter that Justin Morgan had broken her heart eight long years ago. That was water under the bridge. She was fine now. She'd had boyfriends — lots of boyfriends — and she was way past being the naive teenager who'd taken the casual words of a far-off, lonely soldier to heart.

Allie couldn't care less that Justin Morgan was in the same state, same county — or even the same room — as her because her give-a-damn had broken a long time ago.

"Let's go sample the moonshine."

Eve laughed and opened the door for Allie to lead the way to the ballroom. "Don't let Mother hear you compare Blue Mountain bourbon to moonshine. She'll make you sleep in the rickhouse."

"If she'd get her head out of the seventies, she might appreciate what I'm trying to tell her about Blue Mountain and white dog."

"Not tonight, Allie, please?"

"Fine." But she'd find a way to get her baby whiskey to market with or without the support of Blue Mountain.

"I think Justin's dad's about to make his toast," Eve said, pulling Allie toward their table near the dance floor. Lorena pursed her lips when her daughters approached. As they took their seats and apologized to their mother for their tardiness, Justin's father, the current CEO of Blue Mountain Bourbon stood and tapped the microphone.

Damn. She'd known this was coming, and she appreciated it — her whole family did — but ... Allie took a deep breath and let it out slowly, keeping her eyes wide so that any tears might pool in her lower lids but not spill.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I'd like to thank you all for being here tonight to celebrate the love my parents have for each other. We've already toasted their anniversary, and we're going to get to the dancing here in just a minute, but I'd like to take a minute to honor another family member who isn't with us tonight."

The crowd, seated at banquet tables around the room, quieted. They knew what was coming, too.


Excerpted from Drunk on You by Teri Anne Stanley, Robin Haseltine. Copyright © 2015 Tracy M. Hopkin. Excerpted by permission of Entangled Publishing, LLC.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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