Page 61 of Whiskey Kisses

“I get it,” I say, squeezing her shoulder. “I want all that for you, too. But make sure this is the right thing foryouandyourcareer, not just for Callum. You need to have your own stuff going on, too.”

Maeve sits up, wiping her eyes. “I know. And I will.”

“Do Mom and Dad know about the audition?”

She shakes her head. “I wanted to get it first before saying anything.”

“They might feel better if they knew,” I say, shrugging.

“Maybe,” she says doubtfully. I know how she feels, having made a few decisions lately that’ve shaken Dad’s trust in me. The difference is, Evie’s a real one and Callum isn’t shit.

“I’m good as long as Callum treats you right.” I have my doubts about that, but I help Maeve to her feet and sling my arm around her shoulders. “Because if he doesn’t, Lucky and me are just a phone call away.”

In the morning,after Maeve leaves, Finn and Malachi following at a safe distance to make sure she gets to the airport without issue, I head out. There are all kinds of minor fixes that need done—blown lightbulbs,a loose cabinet in the kitchen, a new filter for the fridge—so I told Evie I’d run to the hardware store. That way she can stay back and keep unpacking, which is what she really wants, and I don’t have to think about anybody but myself while I’m out.

Evie’s afraid of Cole. She puts on a brave front, and she handles herself fine around him, but I sense she’s not being totally transparent when it comes to what she knows, or even their history. Because I know there’s more. Why else would he be so stubbornly intent on having her? I get that his family is interested in the Doyles’ money and maybe the distillery, but Cole’s obsession with Evie predates all that. He would’ve been fine with marrying her, knowing she didn’t want it—if that’s not a major red flag, I don’t know what is.

We have some things in common, Cole and I. Our family dynamics, our willingness to do whatever it takes. The difference is, I respect Evie’s choices. She’s more to me than just a means to an end. That’s not the case with Cole. He’s lucky I’m down here on business, that I have to tread lightly, otherwise I’d be figuring out ways to make him disappear. But there’s a lot at stake here, and this isn’t my city. It’s his. His family has the upper hand, the numbers, the manpower. When it’s time to strike, I will, but that time isn’t now.

According to navigation, the hardware store I’m looking for is right ahead. Spotting the sign, I pull into a small parking lot and go inside. Despite its busy, downtown location, the store is quiet this time of day, and I complete my shopping in minutes. Then, leaving my purchases in the back seat, I walk a block up to the restaurant with the bright blue flag.

“Welcome to Mama Avanelle’s,” the hostess chirps from her stand, a pretty girl with light brown skin and long, dark hair. “Just you today?”

“Yeah, actually—can I order something to go?” I ask, glancing around the bustling space. Upbeat jazz plays while servers deliver spicy, aromatic dishes to the crowded tables. According to the menu the hostess hands me, Mama Avanelle’s specializes in French and Creole cuisines.

Interesting, but that’s not really why I’m here.

I could’ve gone to any number of hardware stores closer to Evie’s, but I chose the one up the street because it was closest to the Deschamps’ pride and joy. I figured there was a fifty/fifty chance thatCole would be around, and sure enough he emerges moments later from a door near the back. He surveys the room briefly, pausing when he sees me. A female server with a tray approaches on her way to the back, and he opens the door for her, saying something that makes her giggle.

The hostess asks if I’m ready to order, but I shake my head, keeping my eyes on Cole as he casually walks over. “Well, hey there, Boston,” he drawls, mouth cut in a small, sharp smile. “Fancy running into you here.”

“Is it?” I rest the menu on the hostess stand, stepping back. There are only so many times I’ll let this fucker creep around my house before flipping the script and showing up on his turf. “I was under the impression you wanted to talk.”

His smile widens, never quite reaching his eyes. You hear about dead eyes when people describe killers, but Cole’s aren’t dead. They’re malevolent. I’ve met guys like this in the ring, the ones that get off on pain. You gotta watch guys like that. I have no doubt that if I was less prepared the night Cole and his friend tried to jump me, he would have relished crushing me … and he didn’t even know me.

“Figured I’d make it easy for you,” I continue when he doesn’t offer anything up. “Besides, I’ve heard so much about the famous Mama Avanelle’s. How could I not come check it out?”

“Welcome,” he says, gesturing grandly. “We got the best gumbo in town, my great grand-mère’s special recipe.”

“Oh, yeah?” I cock my head. “If the gumbo’s so great, why’re you into all that other shit?”

“You think you know about me,” he says. “I know about you, too, Mr. King of the Cage. I’ll give it to you, you know how to throw a punch.”

His eyes flash in challenge, but I don’t take the bait. We both know I clobbered his ass the other night. He’s not even worth my energy.

“But I also know that you ain’t even the top dog in your family,” he continues, eyes wide in mock sympathy. “Your brother is, right? You just kinda do his bidding?”

Mind games like that might work on someone else, but in our family, it’s nothing but love. Despite Lucky being the oldest and the duty that comes with it, there’s never been preferential treatment.

And when you see your big brother fight for you, kill for you, being his second is an honor.

“See, I come first in my family,” Cole crows. “People listen to me. And now you’re gonna listen to me. You’ve been fuckin’ around for a while now, making trouble, showing your face where it don’t belong. And I get it—there’s a lot going on down here. Money to be made, women to be had. But it’s time for you to go back home.”

A large group walks in, and we move aside, closer to the windows. “I’ll go home when my work here is done,” I reply.

He stares hard at me for a long minute. “And what kind of work is that?”

“Mergers and acquisitions.”

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