Page 22 of Whiskey Kisses

“Why does Evie avoid me so much, you think?” I ask, wondering if she has any insight on this. “Is it because of the shit with her dad?”

“Uh-uh.” Opal smiles a little, shaking her head. “You’ll have to ask her that yourself.”

Opal lives in a tidy neighborhood,the tree-lined streets full of old, ranch style houses. Her driveway is full of cars, so I park on the street, hurrying over to help carry her groceries.

“Eddie, open the door,” she yells, kicking the front door with her sandal. “My arms are full!”

Seconds later the door swings open to reveal a guy I just sparred with at Phoenix Rising a little while ago. We both freeze in confusion, his eyes bouncing between me and Opal.

Opal thrusts her bags at him. “Tristan, this is my brother, Eddie. Eddie?—"

“Yeah, we met,” he says slowly, giving me a suspicious once-over. “At the studio.”

“Oh, for real?” Opal beams at me. “Yeah, that’s right—Evie did say you were a jiu jitsu master!”

I follow Eddie into the kitchen while Opal returns to the car for the rest of her stuff. “Small word, man, huh—how you know my sister?” he asks, setting the bags down on the linoleum floor.

“I hung out with her and Evie at the bar the other night,” I explain. “I’ve known Evie since we were kids, though.”

“Hmm.” Eddie takes my bags and puts them beside his. “So, how long you been sparring? You didn’t let up on that mat tonight, not even for a minute. Not even with your arm.”

“Most of my life. I used to compete on the regs,” I admit.

“Tristan?” Evie couldn’t sound more shocked if she tried. I glance back as she follows Opal into the kitchen. She’s in raggedy sweatpants and an old tank top, her hair pulled into a sloppy bun. She looks even paler than usual, her eyes ringed in red. “What … what’re you doing here? You know Eddie?”

“He’s not here for Eddie.” Opal puts her bags on the counter and points to a door in the kitchen. “You need to tell him what’s going on, Evie. Y’all can talk on the patio.”

Evie’s face turns pink, from anger or embarrassment I’m not sure. “What is this, an ambush?”

“An intervention,” Opal says crisply as Eddie looks on in thinly veiled amusement. “Go on, now.”

Pursing her lips, Evie marches over to the door and yanks it open. I follow her out to the patio, which is mercifully screened in. I don’t think I can handle any more mosquito bites. I sit down on a rickety little wicker loveseat, waiting for her to do the same, but she doesn’t. Instead, she paces around, her nervous energy spilling all over the placeuntil it’s contaminated me. “Fuck, Evie,what? You going to jail or something?”

“Might as well be,” she mutters, finally sitting beside me. When her bouncing knee starts shaking the loveseat, I put my hand on it, stilling her.

“My dad,” she says, swallowing convulsively. “Is in deep shit with lots of people, not just y’all. The Deschamps, too.”

I wait for her to go on, although I already know I’m not going to like this.

“He and Danny Deschamps made an agreement. If I marry Cole, all of Daddy’s debts to them will be canceled. And then they’ll pay off his other debts, too, because we’ll all be one big, happy family.” Her voice breaks, and she covers her face.

Anger ripples through me like a stormy sea, frustration crashing against the shores of my restraint. Evie’s being bartered off like chattel to cancel her father's debts? I knew that fucker was ruthless, but I never thought he’d stoop this low.

I squeeze her knee. “Your father can’t do that.” But he probably can. As bad as this is, I’ve seen worse. Men like Randall Doyle will do whatever it takes to cover their own asses. Even sacrifice the people they’re supposed to be protecting.

“He can, Tristan.” She’s breathing choppily, like she’s on the brink of hyperventilating. “I tried to talk him out of it, but he just got madder and madder. I live on his property … I have nowhere else to go. And even if I did leave, he’d find me. This is a small town—he knows everyone, and so do the Deschamps.” She looks up at me, her bright eyes wet and panicked.

“Is this why you avoided my calls today?” I shift to look at her, struggling to keep my voice even. “You should’ve told me right away.” Evie marrying Cole would be a disaster. Not only would it completely fuck our plans to take over Doyle’s distillery, but it would also bind Evie to someone she hates.

“Why, so you could counterattack?” Her eyes narrow, even as tears spill from them. “I wasn’t thinking about you, okay? I have enough shit to deal with on my own.”

She’s not totally wrong, but she doesn’t realize how much I actuallycare. About her, not just the distillery. “You’re not marrying that asshole, okay?”

Evie's lower lip trembles. “Once my father makes a deal, there's no going back.”

“He doesn't own you," I snap. “You're a person, not property. And that distillery is mine.”

“But—”

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