Page 66 of Bourbon and Lies

I can’t bite back the smile. Just like I can’t remember ever having a friend like her. One who is equally insightful as she is non judgemental. It’s refreshing to enjoy time spent with a person without ulterior motives or working an angle.

Shutting the door, I lean on the window. “Is this a bad idea?”

“I think that the kind of bad idea you’re referring to is the kind we end up remembering most.” She lets out an overly aggressive sigh, tilting her head back on the headrest. “He’s a good man, Laney. And out of everyone I know, he could use a little fun, even if it's a bad idea.”

“Thanks, Hadley.”

“Thank me tomorrow when you tell me all about how many times he made you—” She honks her horn, and then floors it up the road.

I’m still laughing as I walk up the porch stairs and start knocking. Running my hands down the front of my dress, I’m suddenly very aware that the lingerie underneath is cute, but fairly sweaty from the day and dancing.

But those thoughts are wiped away as Grant swings the door open, wearing his signature smirk and the same t-shirt and jeans from just thirty minutes ago. Why does he look even hotterright now?Maybe it’s the anticipation of peeling all of it off him.

He watches me eye-fuck him in the doorway without saying a word. But just as I start to fill the silence, he wraps his arm around my waist and pulls me into him.

He walks us past the threshold and back into the house. “Hadley dropped you off right out front, didn’t she?”

“She’s pretty intuitive. Said she was saving me the steps.”

He brushes my hair behind my shoulder. “Hadley isn’t the gossip of the bunch. It’s Griz and all his girls I was worried about.”

Julep barks from the living room couch, and I can’t hold back the laugh when I glance at her. “Is she wearing earmuffs?” I walk over to her and give her white belly a good rub as she lays down and rolls to her back. Her coloring is as chaotic and beautiful as her big personality.

“She was the best police dog in the county.” He tilts his head, watching us. “I’d bet the best in the country, but the moment she hears fireworks, all bets are off. She’ll find a corner and shake until they’re over. Those and her little cave tend to do the trick.”

“I’m glad you got home in time, then.” I smile, then what he said before I got distracted by Julep sinks in. “What did you mean, all of Griz’s girls?”

Grant pulls out two Glencairn glasses and a bottle from one of his kitchen cabinets. “His book club girls. You know he’s slept with half of them.”

My jaw drops as my head whips to face him. “That’s not true. Oh my gosh.” I cover my mouth as I chuckle. “Is that true?”

“It’s the one common knowledge item that everyone knows, but never talks about. Probably because they’re the ones controlling all the town rumors.”

“Stop it!” But even as I say it, I can see it.

“Griz likes to play the Foxx curse in his favor. Nobody wants more than some fun every once in a while. Most of them are widows. I don’t think Prue ever was married. But yeah, Griz and his girls are the ones who’ll start and end a rumor here.”

“And it would be bad for them to catch wind of me leaving with you?”

That has him smiling. “I didn’t say bad.” He walks past me, hooking his finger with my pinkie as he brushes by. “Just that we’d be the only thing everyone would want to talk about this summer. It’s not my favorite place to be—a part of everyone's conversations.”

Grasping my hand, he pulls me along toward the far side of his open living space and through a door that I had thought would lead to a garage. But as he flicks on the lights and we move through the threshold, it’s pretty evident that this is so much more than a storage spot for cars and sporting gear. The sweet and tangy smell hits me first.

“This is deceiving.”

The room is double the size of his living room, but instead of comfortable couches and a cozy fireplace, there’s a heavy bag hanging from the rafters and a large metal tub. It’s significantly smaller than the ones at the distillery, but it holds the same thick yellow mash. The wall to my right is lined with a workbench with plenty of things I don’t recognize, but the barrels and copper still give away what this space is for him.

“There’s a good spot to watch the fireworks off the back.”

“This is a badass hobby set-up.” I laugh at how nonchalant he is about what’s in here.

We stop in front of a few bourbon barrels as he puts the glasses down. “It was just a garage, but when I renovated, I wanted to have more space. I wasn’t exactly sure what for at the time, but before I knew it, I had a bunch of equipment. Maybe a part of me knew all along I’d find my way back to bourbon. So, I turned this into”—he looks around and exhales—“my escape.”

I run my fingers along the oak barrel. “From?”

As his hazel eyes meet mine, I can’t help but lick my lips in anticipation of his. The way I feel when this man looks at me is altering. It’s forever altered the way I see myself, and the way I expect to be seen. It’s shifted what I ever expected, because this current between us, this undeniable chemistry that whirls to life within every inch of my body when I’m near him, has changed me. “The rumors haven’t caught up to you yet, then?”

“Some have.” I tilt my head to the side, thinking about how I can carefully dance around a topic I’m not sure he wants to discuss.

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