Page 28 of Whiskey Kisses

I wave to Marsha, the property manager, who’s getting out of her car. “Nope. That’s it. I appreciate it, man.”

“Sure.” He pauses, and I know what’s coming because he’s been at me about it since I contacted him. “When are you telling your parents?”

I pat my pockets for cigarettes that aren’t there. “Soon.”

“Good,” he says. “And keep me out of it, because if your mother finds out I married you on the sly, she’ll filet me.”

Mom will probably filet me when she finds out I eloped, so join the club, buddy.

“Thanks, Marsha,”I say for the tenth time, trying to close the front door so I can do the thousand other things I need to do today.

“Anytime, honey,” she says, batting her impressive lashes. I can’t tell if she’s flirting or if this is just how she operates. She’s gotta be thirty years my senior. “You have my card, so you go ahead and contact me if you need anything else.”

“Right, will do.” I make a show of checking my watch. “Listen, I have to run but thanks again for the quick turnaround.”

“My pleasure! If you need?—”

“I will definitely let you know. Bye, now.” Winking at her, I close the door and wait until she’s driven off before retrieving my stuff from my rental car. I don’t have much, just the shit I brought from Boston plus everything that was even remotely edible at the Airbnb.

Finn and Timmy pull up as I finish loading the fridge. “Where’s Malachi?” I ask, letting them in.

“Getting groceries,” says Finn.

Of course, he is. Malachi’s the most responsible of the bunch.

“Nice. Hey, I’ll get you keys made today,” I assure them as they follow me to the kitchen.

“And wifey’s gonna be cool with us staying down the hall?” teases Finn, plopping into a chair. They’ve been razzing me about the ol’ ball and chain for days now. “Women usually like their privacy.”

Timmy snickers. “I don’t know. Nothing says a honeymoon like a full house.”

“Eviedoesn’t have a choice in the matter,” I shoot back. “And she’s not like that, anyway. This situation isn’t like that.”

Finn and Timmy share a look I don’t feel like deciphering. “Can I smoke out there?” asks Timmy, glancing at the sliding doors across the living room.

“Go ahead.” I hand him a bowl from the cabinet. “But don’t make a mess.”

I keep busy for the next couple of days, scoping the new neighborhood for entry and exit points, installing a security system, and getting copies of keys made. We burned through Malachi’s groceries in a day and eating out is getting old, so the boys and I go grocery shopping for real, refilling the fridge with everyone’s favorites. And, sick of renting, I buy a Suburban from a car dealer just outside town. It’s no Defender like my baby back home, but it comes in handy in helping Evie move.

She brings over a few boxes after work the first couple of nights, a random assortment of plants and books and clothes and little glass jars full of who-knows-what. “Here,” she says, handing me one. When I open it, I find a fragrant assortment of gummies.

“Please tell me this is what I think it is,” I say, sniffing appreciatively.

“It is.” She straightens up from the box she was just rooting through, brushing her hands off. “I had more, but Opal took them.”

“I approve of Opal.”

A wry smile curves her lips. “Good, ‘cause we’re a package deal.”

The next morning, I hit up Phoenix Rising for a workout. It feels good to focus on my body, to be in the moment, because there are so many other things that are out of my control. Like, I want to make my move on Doyle, but until Evie’s safely gone from his property, I have to wait. She’s been bringing stuff over when she gets off work, so we’re moving at a glacial pace.

I’m catching up with my sister Maeve and eating a sandwich at a place by the beach when another call comes through. It’s Evie. Wondering why she didn’t just text me like usual, I interrupt Maeve’s story about her ballet company’s latest drama. “Can I call you back, Mae? I gotta take this call.”

“Sure,” she says. “But don’t forget to call back! I have something to tell you.”

“I have something to tell you, too,” I say, hoping she won’t read me the riot act when I tell her I got married.

I click over to Evie. “Hey. Everything okay?”

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