Page 43 of Whiskey Kisses

“Because I didn't want you to feel obligated to do something when it’s not like that with us.” She shrugs. “It’s no big deal.”

“Really?” I ask dubiously, side-eyeing her. Maeve and my mom celebrate their birthdays like national holidays. I get that everyone’s different, but Evie tends to downplay everything like she’s afraid of asking for too much … of taking up too much space. I don’t like that shit.

“I have plans with Opal later,” she says suddenly. “So don’t worry.”

After the month she’s had, Evie deserves to have an amazing birthday. I’m sure she’ll have fun with her friends tonight, but something tells me I should probably step up too, relationship status be damned.

After lunch at JonJon’s, a food truck with the best BBQ around, we continue to her Aunt Myrtle’s estate. It’s located on Whitemarsh Island, about fifteen minutes from downtown Savannah. “By the way,” I begin, figuring now’s a good a time as any to broach the topic of Maribelle. “I saw your sister at the recorder’s office earlier.”

“Oh, yeah?” she asks neutrally.

I don’t want to ruin the good mood, but if I don’t tell Evie about today, it feels too much like keeping secrets. And for some reason that feels messed up. “She’s married, right?”

Evie’s face tightens, but she keeps her gaze on the Islands Expressway. “Didn’t realize you were still interested.”

I snort. “Actually, she was the one propositioning me.”

“Not surprising,” she mumbles. “Guess she wants to pick up where y’all left off—she did tell me you had a nice dick.”

“What?” I bark out a surprised laugh. Maribelle is such a sneaky bitch.

“Don’t act like she hasn’t seen it,” Evie snipes, disgusted. “I know y’all …” She shudders, waving her hand like whatever her sister and I used to do is unfit for discussion.

Well, that just makes me want to discuss it. “Maribelle’s full of shit, Evie. She was obviously trying to rile you up.”

“Why would that rile me?” Evie asks primly, raising her eyebrows.

“I don’t know, but you seem a little riled up.”

“Whatever,” she mumbles, looking out the window. “So, she was lying then?”

“Ah, so you do wanna know.”

“You said she was full of shit, so I’m wondering what’s true.”

“I kissed her a couple of times, and she gave me a sloppy hand job in the gazebo one night after a few shots of your dad’s whiskey.” I don’t know why I feel the need to confess any of this, and maybe I wouldn’t if the girl in question was anyone other than her sister, but it makes me feel better. No more secrets. “That’s it.”

Evie’s cheeks turn an alarming shade of crimson, and she turns her attention back to her window.

“It didn’t mean anything,” I add. And it didn’t. It was ages ago, for one thing. I was fifteen and perpetually horny and just excited to have someone else’s hand on my dick. Maribelle was one of many girls I fooled around with that year, and frankly, she wasn’t that memorable.

“You sound guilty, like a cheating husband,” Evie says, wrinkling her nose.

“Probably because you’re making me feel like one.”

“Fine,” she says with a huff. “So, what did Maribelle want?”

“I’m not completely sure.” I squint at the road, recalling our conversation in the parking lot. “She seemed bent on partnering up to take over the distillery. I think she thought she could seduce me into it.”

“Maribelle always looks out for number one,” Evie says, fiddling with the keyring. “She’ll do whatever it takes to be on the winning side, and right now that’s with you. Doesn’t matter who else is in the equation.”

“Elaborate,” I demand, sensing there’s more to this than she’s letting on.

Evie chews her bottom lip then sighs, looking at me. “No one knows what I’m about to tell you.”

“I knew it,” I say, shooting her a smug side-eye.

She wrinkles her nose. It’s kinda cute. “Knew what?”

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