Page 96 of Whiskey Kisses

“Hi, Cole,” I say softly, my heart pounding so hard it makes me dizzy. “Thanks for meeting me on such short notice.”

He watches intently as I climb in beside him. “Can’t say I wasn’t surprised to hear from you.”

I shut the door behind me, freezing when I see the gun on his lap.What did you expect, Evie? He’s probably suspicious as fuck.I press myself against the passenger door, glad, at least, for the console between us.

“Didn’t think you still had my number,” he says conversationally.

I bite the inside of my cheek. I didn’t have his number, at least not in my phone. It was, however, still scribbled down in an old journal I kept as a teen. “I’m surprised you still use that number,” I say finally, forcing myself to hold his gaze.

“If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it. So, what’s up, Red? You’ve been so pissy every time I saw you, I was starting to think maybe you hated me for how things ended between us.”He can’t seriously be talking about high school, can he?He leans over, brushing his thumb over my cheek before dropping his hand lower. “Then again, you always did play kinda hard to get.”

“What’re you doing?” I gasp, squirming away as he begins running his hands over me.

“Makin’ sure you didn’t come in here strapped to kill me,” he says with a dark smile. “Lemme see inside your bag.”

I take a deep breath, allowing the events and revelations of the past couple days to remind me of why I’m doing this. I open my bag and show Cole the contents, moving it away when he starts to reach for the bottle stowed inside. “Hold on.”

Smirking, he rests his arm along the back of the cab’s seat back. “Go ahead, then. Gimme your spiel.”

“I did kinda hate you after how things went down back in the day,” I fib. I might’ve resented him for making a fool of me at one point, but I got over thatrealfast. The uncharitable feelings I’ve had since then are based solely on him being a shitty human being. But that’s not helpful right now. Playing up to his ego is. “But that was a long time ago and Imight as well let bygones be bygones. I don’t want to live my life at war anymore.”

He snorts. “That’s not how it seemed the other night when you let your boy fuckin’ attack me for trying to talk to you.”

“Let him?” I cry. “Cole, y’all practically jumped us! I was terrified!”

“Aw, come on now. Have I ever hurt you?” he asks, rolling his eyes.

God, I’d love to smack that look off his face. “Look, I’m saying I want a truce, okay?”

“You know I can’t promise anything.” He cants his head to the side, skeptical. “But what’s prompted this sudden change of heart?”

“I guess I didn’t realize just how bad things would get.”

“What d’you mean, sugar?” he drawls. “Be specific.”

Repressing the revulsion his pet name evokes, I gaze up at him, trying to remember what it was like to fall for him. To want him. It’s nearly impossible. “I don’t think Tristan realizes what a mess he’s in. He hasn’t been here all that long, and there’s a certain order of things he has yet to understand.”

“Ah. Starting to realize hubby’s bitten off more than he could chew, huh?” Cole chuckles darkly, nodding. “I tried to warn him, you know. Told him to stop fucking around, but he didn’t listen.”

“I know you hate him, but if you have any kindness left for me at all, please consider what I’m trying to do. Nobody knows about this but me, so I’m trusting you, okay?” Trembling, I pull the bottle of special edition whiskey from my bag.

“Golden Stag #14.” Cole frowns at it, brushing his fingers over the label. “You were fucking serious.”

“Of course, I was,” I whisper, watching him open the bottle and sniff it. It’s nearly eighty years old.

“You try it yet?”

“Yeah, last night.” I nod. “Wanted to make sure it tasted alright before giving it to you.”

“Can’t wait to try it,” he says. “I’ve been reading up—these might be worth a mint.”

“I know, and there’s more where that came from, but you have to promise me you’ll talk to your dad, okay? No more kidnapping, no more … threats. Please.”

A smile creeps over his mouth as he wraps his hand high around my thigh and squeezes. “What’ll you give me if I do?” he asks teasingly.

I try to peel his hand off, but he slides it higher, his fingers grazing the inseam of my jeans. “I just gave you—” My words are cut off when he swoops in and licks deeply into my mouth like he’s sampling me. I shove at his chest, horrified. “Cole! Youcannotdo that?—"

“You taste just like I remember,” he says almost wistfully. His hand slides away, but I can still feel it, like it burned right through the denim.

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