Page 78 of Whiskey Kisses

“Agreed,” he says. “What does Lucky think?”

“He likes the idea,” I say. “There’s a decent amount of whiskey being stored there at the moment, but we can probably store it at the distillery temporarily. Or maybe even Evie’s. There’s an old workshop at the back of the property.”

“I wouldn’t move any stock to Evie’s place,” he counters quickly. “You need to keep the distillery and everything that comes with it separate. Don’t bring potential trouble to her doorstep.”

My heart sinks. As careful as I think I’ve been, there are so many ways to fuck this up. “Of course. You’re right.”

“How’s Evie doin’, anyway?”

I smile, thinking of the way she undressed me a little while ago. “She’s great.”

“Yeah? You talk to Mom yet?”

“Haven’t had time.”

“Tristan,” he says, sighing. “You two text almost every day. You have time.”

“We text about casual stuff, like the weather and what she made for dinner. All the wine at her wineries. Telling her I have a wife is gonna take a real conversation and I have a lot going on right now,” I protest, knowing my excuses are getting lamer by the millisecond.

Evie comes out of the bathroom wearing a sleepy grin and a long t-shirt. I just had her, but knowing she has nothing on underneath makes me feel weak in the stomach and hard as a rock everywhere else.

“She deserves better, Tris,” he says firmly. “They both do, and I think you know that.”

“Yeah.” I caress Evie’s thigh when she sits beside me on the bed, ghosting my fingertips over her freshly scrubbed skin. “I’ll call her in the morning, okay? Promise.”

We disconnect. I toss my phone aside, resting my head in Evie’s lap and closing my eyes as she cards her fingers gently through my hair. Moving the whiskey will probably be a logistical nightmare but handing over the warehouse to Deschamps feels like the way to go. Ultimately, this is about compromise and putting old ghosts to rest.

“Who was that?” Evie asks quietly, her fingers lulling me into a dreamy state.

“My dad. Busting my chops, as usual,” I joke, keeping my eyes closed.

“Oh yeah?” There’s a smile in her voice. “What about?”

“My mom.”

“He wants you to tell her about us, huh?” There’s a vulnerability in her voice that tugs on something deep inside me. “Why haven’t you?”

“I don’t know.” I turn to my back so I’m looking up at her. “I just don’t want to hurt her. We’re usually pretty close, you know? I don’t want her feeling like I excluded her from something so important.”

“Is it important?” Evie asks, touching my lips.

I bite her finger.

“Ouch, Tristan!” She yanks her finger away, then flicks me with it.

“Of course, it’s important.” I try to grab her hand, but she holds it away, pouting. “What kind of question is that?”

“I don’t know. You’re the one who’s keeping it a secret.”

“I’m not keeping it a secret. It’s just never a good time to bring it up,” I say. “Besides, she’s gonna have all kinds of opinions about the wedding and us in general, watch.”

“I hear you, but honestly, it’s too late for all that, Tristan. We’re married. Maybe not forever, but for right now.” She curls a lock of my hair around her finger contemplatively. “This is real.”

“I’ll tell her tomorrow,” I say, and I will. “And you don’t have to keep reminding me that this is temporary. I know.”

Her fingers still, her breath hitching like I’ve caught her off guard. “I—I’m just saying I understand what we’re doing, here. I know the deal.”

“Do you?” Ibring her down to the bed and lie beside her so we can talk face to face.

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