Page 53 of Bourbon and Lies

He’s wearing his typical work attire. A pair of worn jeans and work boots, some variation of a blue t-shirt that fits just tightenough around his arms to let the rest of the world know that this man can lift plenty of heavy things. Today there’s not a hat, but his dark hair is still damp at the ends, giving the illusion that if it were long enough, it’d be wavy. The scruff on his face is trimmed the same length—that mustache that looked thicker when I first met him is fully blended in now. It tickled my lips at first, but the scratch of it felt good when he kissed me. My cheeks heat just thinking about it again. And then I wonder if it would tickle or scratch between my legs. The way his tongue moved with mine and the mix of his beard and mustache. Was it horrible of me to want to see beard burn around my thighs? Maybe.

He smiles back at me, almost like he knows what I’m thinking.Maybe not.

“Thanks for the coffee pot.”

“It’ll save you a trip into town every morning.” He’s been paying attention. And I don’t mind knowing that one little bit.

The big, fat crush I have on Grant Foxx is probably written all over my face as I watch him pull out of his driveway and turn down the road to the distillery. My smile stays in place until I take a sip of my coffee and cough at the bitterness. But then I laugh.What the hell did he put in this?

I promptly pour the rest of my mug and the pot down the drain and think about the way he waited for me to say more last night. I brace my hands on the counter and hang my head. He has to know at least what Ace and Griz do. How I got here and exactly who brought me. I basically told him as much when I was drunk and running my mouth.

It’s just a matter of when, not if, I tell him the rest of my story. And the part where there’s still something unsettled about what’s happening back in New York that has my WITSEC handler on edge. Ace won’t want me here if there’s any hint of trouble. Hell, I wouldn’t want me here if that meant any one ofthem could be in danger from it. I suck in a deep breath and count to three, because getting worked up over the unknown isn’t going to make this truth any easier to share.

Especially when there’s a chance it could risk my newfound happiness.

“I kissed him,”I mumble, looking through the binoculars.

“You’re going to need to be specific with me, because there are a few Foxxes you could be referring to,” Hadley says over a mouthful of popcorn.

I lean back and watch her shovel another handful into her mouth before she’s even finishes chewing. “There is no way that Mr. Tall, Dark, and Flirty isn’t in a throuple.” She looks through the viewfinder of her telescope and points. “I just need to know. I’m going to be so jealous if the florist, who was actually really quite lovely in high school, is getting Eiffel towered tonight.”

I bark out a laugh. “How do you know it’s a Foxx?”

With her focus still on the people we’re watching, she says, “Oh, the third-party is not a Foxx. It’s got to be one of the firemen who just started. There were, like, three new ones who were just assigned to the Fiasco Fire Department.”

“No, who I kissed. Why did you just assume it was one of them?”

She gives me a leveling glare. “They all look at you like you’ve brought some kind of magic to our small town. They’re the most likely. If I had to guess, though, it’s either Ace or Grant.” She squints her eyes at me. “If it was Linc, I would have already heard about it. He’s total shit with secrets.”

I look back into the binoculars. “It was Grant.”

“And?”

I inhale, and the sighing exhale is all I need to offer.

“That good?”

I smile, remembering the way he touched me, how our lips just went for it, the way his tongue made every inch of my body feel like putty while simply brushing mine. How not kissing him again last night was borderline torturous when I know how perfect it felt. “Yeah, that good.” I clear my throat as I watch the tall, dark fireman come out of the florist. “Jackpot. It’s the fireman.”

“Oooh, which one?” She raises the looking glass to her eye. “Nice. The dark-haired one. Tattoos. She’s officially living her best life.”

My phone buzzes.

COWBOY

I found a sour gummy worm in my boot this morning.

LANEY

Jackpot! Did you eat it?

I can almost picture his face when he reads that. His mustache lifting at the corners as his lips quirk.

COWBOY

There were also red licorice bits and smeared chocolate in the ropes of my hammock.

LANEY

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