Page 52 of Bourbon and Lies

“In the grand scheme of bad things I’ve witnessed, that one doesn’t seem all that bad, Laney.”

The flames from the fire behind me dance in the reflection of her gaze as it finally meets mine. “Cheating with someone is pretty bad, Grant.”

“It is. But I don’t think that was your intention. You were still in love with him. You wanted him to pick you. And he wanted to cheat.”

She moves to take another sip of the bourbon, but pauses before it reaches her lips. “I haven’t told anybody this.”

I like that she wanted to tell me. “I’m good with secrets.”

She stares at me like she wants to say more. I can feel that energy from her, almost pulsing between us.

“Is there more?”

With the way her eyes look between mine and the change in her body language from relaxed shoulders to a tensed hunch, I regret asking. The truth is, I care about her. So much so, I don’t need to push. When she’s ready, I hope she’ll tell me. I’ll be here to listen.

“Licorice. Is there more?” I back-pedal and look in the bag stuffed with candy, and a lightened smile pulls at her lips.

“There’s more.”

Chapter 23

Laney

It feelswarm on my hands. Trying to hold her up and move with all this extra weight. I didn’t expect the shreds of cloth and skin to feel so warm. I don’t know where to hold her that won’t hurt. But it doesn’t matter. I only have one thought. Get out. Get out. Get out. My hand is so wet. And the whining. It won’t stop.

I blink my eyes open when Julep licks at the palm of my open hand, putting me at ease. Her body sprawls across the mattress, leaving me limited covers and space. “Hey, sweet girl. Did you sleep in here?”

I move too fast, sitting up and instantly regretting it. My head throbs, my left eye twitches creepily, and my throat is dry and tastes disgusting. I look down and a navy-blue towel is loosely tucked around my body under the fluffy duvet. I don’t remember how I got in here. And the idea of that makes me smile. I think I fell asleep outside.

When I eye my furry friend, who hasn’t moved at all, her light eyes just look back at me as I pet along the top of her head.

“Where’s your handsome daddy?” I smile at the little twinge of nerves still lingering around everything that happened last night. Skinny dipping in his backyard, telling him all about Phillip. And choosing to leave out the rest. He knows there’s more. I practically said as much, but he didn’t push. Grant was the cop who made me nervous. The Foxx brother who didn’t trust me. But last night, he was my bartender. My therapist. My…friend.

A succession of beeps from the kitchenette starts going off. And as soon as they stop, I hear water trickling. I sit up and look over, since it’s not that far from my bed, smiling when I see it. A coffee pot. His coffee pot. The one from his counter that plugs in and looked like it had never been used. The time reads 7:10 a.m., which is still plenty of time for a shower before I have to meet Lincoln at the distillery for a touch-base meeting.

The smell of coffee permeates the room a few minutes later. Between the thoughtful coffee and that buttered croissant scent of the air outside my new home, I pause, recognizing how happy I feel.

I remember everything Grant said to me last night. Small things that I didn’t realize I needed to hear. Big things I needed to say out loud, to anyone who would listen. And he listened. He listened and I felt lighter. We started talking about music, our favorite movies, and his family business. And now, the remnants of what triggered my pizza and candy binge aren’t anywhere in sight.

“Do you like working here, or are you thinking you might want to do something else?”

I told him how much I really enjoyed learning about bourbon. That when I wasn’t planning the 100th anniversary event, how I would pick up a shift from the tasting bar or help one of the new hires on a tour if they asked.“It’s exactly whatI want to be doing. What about you? Do you like what you’re doing?”

When he answered, he stared at the fire pit, really thinking through his words.“I thought for a long time that I was meant to be doing something else. But this healed me in a lot of ways. Helped me find a new version of who I was.”

Julep still hasn’t budged as I get up to use the bathroom. When I shuffle my way into my small kitchen, there’s a mug next to the coffee pot with a note tucked under it.

I never make good coffee so it’s going to be gross, but the coffee pot is yours if you want it. Julep wouldn’t leave after I carried you over. Hope you don’t mind her making herself at home. Come find me when you’re done with work today. -Grant

I read the note at least three more times, before a loud whistle has me turning and looking out the window.

The sheer white curtains don’t give way to much visibility, but I’m guessing it’s Grant by the sound of his truck. Julep heard it too—the truck starting, the whistle, and then the lazy morning lounger is long gone and at the door in seconds. Her front paws hit the center of the door and then at the knob, eager to get out there. When I open it, I’m greeted by the bright sun and the blanket of humidity, ready to assault anyone who dares to step out into it. Across the front grass, still peppered with wildflowers, is Grant standing next to his idling truck with the door open. Julep darts straight for it. She hops right into the cab, across the front seat, and into the back, where I’m guessing she has a strap waiting for her to be buckled into.

I cross my arms over my chest and lean against the door frame.

“Mornin’,” he calls out to me.

“Morning, cowboy,” I smile and lift my hand slightly to wave.

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