Page 15 of Whiskey Kisses

“Why? Do you need to chill out?” she teases back.

“Always.”

“I do have edibles, but I buy them,” she says, giving me a shy smile. “They’re not my specialty.”

I look at her, intrigued by all of this. “You get more interesting by the nanosecond, Ms. Doyle.”

“I’m the most interesting girl you’ve ever met,” she replies, looking back at me.

Heat flickers unexpectedly through my belly, gone as quickly as it came. “Tell me more about this medicine garden. What exactly do you grow?”

“Valerian, which helps with insomnia. Chamomile, lavender, and lemon balm,” she says, listing them off on her fingers. “They’re all calming herbs.”

“Weed’s calming,” I say, just to be obnoxious.

“It is,” she agrees. “But my father would keel over and die if I grew that on his property.”

I give a sage nod. “What else you got?”

“Well, my echinacea is blooming beautifully now. That’s good for your immune system.”

“And you make stuff from all of this?” I ask, intrigued.

She nods. “I have different kinds of mint too—peppermint, spearmint, lemon mint. They’re nice for teas and digestive issues,” she says enthusiastically, gaining momentum. This is obviously Evie’s passion. “Thyme and oregano help with respiratory ailments, so I’ll brew some up if I get a cold.”

I’m so focused on her that I don’t notice people coming our way until a familiar voice says, “Guess our fates are aligned tonight after all, sugar.”

Cole Deschamps. Everything Kenny told me about him blends with the subtle malice coming off him. I’ve known guys like him my whole life, and while I’m not someone he wants to mess with, I know instinctively that the same is true for him. He’s a bad seed.

He and one of his friends from earlier stop in front of us, a little unsteady on their feet. This could go either way. Their drunk asses might be too sloppy to fight, but alcohol can also make people meaner. More savage. I knew we should’ve driven here. I should’ve been paying closer attention to our surroundings, too. I know better.

“Hey Evie,” the friend says, bringing a cigarette to his mouth. Lucky’s been on me to quit, and I’m trying, but the smell of smoke makes me crave it something fierce.

“Hi, DJ,” she says quietly, moving around them. “We’re just heading out, actually. Y’all have a good night.”

Cole takes her hand as she passes by. Gently, but the fact he’s touching her at all after she’s made it clear she doesn’t like it really pisses me off. She said she could handle him, though, so I shove down the urge to handle him myself.

“See you later, okay?” Disentangling their fingers, she glances back at me and jerks her head.

Giving Cole and his boy DJ plenty of space, I catch up to Evie and we continue on our way. It’s a tense few minutes. She’s quiet, probably listening for sounds of movement behind us just as closely as I am. We round the corner, and I glance back as Cole strides up, his friend still hanging back beneath the streetlight.

My irritation with the whole encounter boils over into rage, but Iknow how to keep a lid on it until the time is right. Tucking Evie behind me, I turn to face Cole. “We’re not doing this.”

“I don’t know you, motherfucker,” he snaps. Guess we’re done pretending to be civil. “I got things to say to this girl, so you can get going.”

“But this girl doesn’t want to talk to you, so stop following her around.” My voice is even but my muscles are coiled, my palms tingling with anticipation. We’re around the same height, but I’m a little bigger. And even if I wasn’t, I just don’t lose. Ever. Bad arm or no.

In a move that surprises no one, he gets up in my face, stinking of stale liquor and cologne. “Cole—” Evie says, putting her hand on his arm.

But he shakes her off, his eyes gleaming darkly now that he’s dropped the act. Ah, yes.Thisis the real Cole.We’re not chuckling and smirking anymore, are we, fucker? DJ lopes over casually, hands in his pockets.

Cole brings his eyes back to mine and then, without a word, swings a wild punch. I duck just in time, feeling the whoosh of his fist above my head, and counter with a jab to his gut, making him double over. As he staggers back, his friend blindsides me, somehow landing a random hit to the one spot I can’t afford it: my left bicep. Pain shoots down my arm, nearly taking my breath away, but there’s enough adrenaline burning through my veins to carry me through.

Gritting my teeth, I return the favor with an elbow to the friend’s face, but now Cole’s recovered and coming back for more. He lands a nasty punch to my cheek, and that’s it. The switch is flipped. I pop him right back in the cheek, and then his mouth, followed by punches to both sides of his ribs. I spin around to deal with DJ, but Evie has him on the sidewalk. She’s wound around him like a python, maneuvering him into a sleeper hold—a fuckingchokehold—as he squirms, his long limbs flapping uselessly.Wait, what?

But I don’t have the time to process all of that because Cole’s lunging for me like a drunken sailor, curses spewing from his bloodied mouth. I sidestep, taking advantage of his lack of coordination, and deliver an uppercut so savage that his head flies back. He lands in a heap across the sidewalk, stunned.

Panting, I turn to assist Evie, but she’s already climbing to her feet.DJ’s slumped over, breathing shallowly—I can’t tell if he’s out or just too fucked-up to move. This is by far the most bizarre fight I’ve ever been involved in. “Are you … okay?” I ask, but she obviously is. She didn’t even need me.

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