Page 20 of Whiskey Kisses

“Cole, obviously. I thought you’d be pleased, seeing as the two of you had a thing in high school.” He waves his hand dismissively. “Apparently, he still carries a torch for you.”

I have no idea how he even knows about that, seeing as our “thing” comprised mostly of late-night, backseat fucking, but that’s beside the point. “Cole’s a creep,” I hiss. “I wouldn’t marry him if my life depended on it.”

“In some ways, it does,” he says, pasting that awful smile back onto his face. “This marriage will unite our families, giving them joint ownership of the distillery. Thus, the money we owe them will be settled.”

“You mean money you owe, not me,” I whisper, my heart pounding so hard and so fast I feel like I might vomit. He can’t be serious. Hecan’t.

“They’ll pay off our other debts, as well,” he continues as if I hadn’t spoken. His eyes glaze over, like he’s someplace else. “Including what we owe the Kellys.”

7.Tristan

“How’s it going?” Lucky asks as I pull into the garage.

“It’s going.” I rotate my shoulders in slow circles, enjoying the post-workout soreness. Evie never got back to me about going with her to Phoenix Rising, so I went by myself. I was pleasantly surprised to find a glossier, more versatile version of Callaghan’s—kick boxing and punching bags, jiu jitsu mats, a ring, even a bunch of Cross-Fit bros running around outside.

So, I got a day pass and punched a bag around for a while. Worked out on the machines. I even rolled on the mats for a while with one of the instructors. I gave him a heads-up about my arm, so we took it easy, but it felt good to be back. I’m tired now, though, and Evie never did show up.

“Doyle still giving you the run-around?”

“Of course, he is,” I say with a scoff. Grabbing my gym bag, I get out of the car and head inside. “I’m paying him another visit tomorrow morning, though—at the distillery this time.”

Lucky’s sigh crackles over the line. “Let me know how it goes. I don’t want you having to waste any more time than necessary down there.”

His words leave me unexpectedly ambivalent. He’s right, obviously. I’m here for a very specific reason, and the sooner that’s handled, thesooner I can go home. But there’s something about Evie’s situation with her shady ex that just doesn’t sit right with me. Men like that are used to getting what they want, and when they don’t, things can take a turn.

And yeah, I know she’s capable of taking care of herself … she’s proven that and then some. But still.

“Randall is used to being large and in charge, right?” I say, remembering the constipated look on his face the other morning. “When I showed up at his house, out of the blue, it reminded him that he doesn’t have the upper hand anymore—we do.”

“Yeah, I bet he hates that shit,” Lucky says with a chuckle.

“I thought if I gave him some breathing room he’d come around, but he’s even more stubborn than I realized.”

“He’s playing games. The fact that I discussed all of this with him when I came to Savannah, but we’restillexactly where we started should tell you something.”

Dropping my bag on the kitchen floor, I pour myself a glass of water. “Remember that family Kenny told me about? The Deschamps?”

“What about ‘em?” Lucky’s voice sharpens.

I fill him in on Cole’s behavior with Evie and what went down the other night, the implications our encounter might have, knowing that he’s a son of the infamous Deschamps crew.

“What the fuck? That’s it, no more of this Lone Ranger shit. I’m sending down some of the boys,” Lucky says, agitated. “Handling business with Doyle is one thing, dealing with a family like that is another. I know you know what I’m saying, Tristan.”

“All right.” I relent, rubbing my eyes as I lean against the counter. “Send Finn and Malachi. Maybe Timmy, too. He has people down here, doesn’t he?”

“I think so. And Atlanta, I think? I’ll definitely send him,” Lucky says. “And I’m gonna look into the Deschamps from my end, see what I can find. We might have mutuals if they’re into anything.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised.” I walk over to the window and gaze out at the street, headlights piercing the dim, dusky blue. “They don’t exactly fly under the radar around here. I’m sure they’re into more shit than people realize.”

“Hold on,” he says. I hear Liam’s exuberant voice in thebackground, followed by a burst of barking. Lucky responds to his son before coming back on the line. “Sorry, just got home.”

“It’s cool.” Hearing my nephew’s voice like that tugs my heart. I miss him. I miss home. “Go on ahead—we’ll talk later.”

“Alright, and Tris?”

“Yeah?”

“Hold off on seeing Doyle for now,” says Lucky. “Wait until the boys get there.”

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