Page 26 of Bourbon and Lies

“Telling.” She smiles right back at me. “I don’t know your whole story, but if I had to guess, Ace is doing you a very big favor. So...” she pauses with a shrug, “don’t fuck him over.”

I didn’t want to lie to her, so I told her a piece of the truth. “You’re right, he’s doing me a big favor, and I don’t take that lightly. I wasn’t planning on Fiasco, but, well, I’m here. Doing my best to live a quiet little life.”

She watches me, looking for the lie in it. Then she shoots the rest of her drink and slaps the bar. “Good. Now let's talk about how you somehow managed to wrap four Foxx men around your finger in less than a few weeks.”

I exaggeratedly scoff at that observation. “Hardly.”

“Griz told me that you’re the kind of stranger that small towns like ours can only hope to have crash into them.”

That makes me smile. “I feel like Griz has some stories.”

“Oh, he does. And that man loves to talk about them over some really old bourbon. That’s pretty on par for him. But Ace”—she looks down at her nails—“he’d never move an overnight plaything into his guest house.”

I raise my eyebrows at her. “I didn’t sleep with him,” I tell her with a coy smile. “He’s all yours.”

“No thanks,” she says quickly. “Lincoln has a little crush on you, which is...shocking, really. He’s become a bit of a slut. I’m not sure how I feel about it. He probably could use less of hisdick and more therapy, but I’ve tried that conversation. It didn’t go well.”

I’ve never been close enough to someone like that. A person who would put things into perspective. Even if it was blatant honesty. Lincoln is good looking, sweet even. But I would guess she and I feel the same about him—a hot older brother who you can count on for a good time. Plus, he has the girls. I like them too much to muck anything up with their dad and hurt them in the process. It’s the exact kind of complicated I can’t do right now.

“And Grant, I’m sure he has women. I mean, look at him.” My belly swoops with excitement at just hearing that man’s name. Gah, it’s a problem. “But he’s not the guy to dance with girls at the bar and take them home. Let alone, word spar with one who shows up out of nowhere. The way he’s been acting around you is...” She takes a sip of her water, eyebrow quirked. “It’s just not like how he’s been.”

“Rude?”

She smiles, chuckling. “No. Just that he’s been talking to you at all. He typically keeps to himself. A lot of grunts and annoyed looks are Grant’s typical language.”

I’m not sure why that makes me want to smile, but I bite my lips and hold it back.

Looking around the bar, she says, “They all believe it, too.”

“Believe what, exactly?”

“I think it’s bullshit, but every dumbass in this town has been force-fed the idea that the Foxx men are cursed.”

I can’t help the laugh that comes barreling out of me. “Seriously?”

“Griz lost his wife shortly after Ace was born. I actually don’t remember how it happened.” That admission has me feeling instantly awful for laughing. “Ace never married.” She sighs. “And Linc...” Her eyes water as she tells me about his wife,Olivia. “She was everything good. I don’t think she had a mean bone in her body. They loved each other since they were kids. The only reason I started following him home in middle school was because she begged me to come along.” Tipping her chin down, she looks at the bar top. “God, I miss her every day.”

“How did she . . .?” I ask quietly.

“Aneurysm. She wasn’t even thirty yet, completely healthy. It was such an unexpected thing. And it happened just a year after—” But she’s cut off when one of her servers interrupts an argument about a bill.

That kind of loss is one I haven’t ever known. I missed my father, and while I still wanted him to be here with me, it wasn’t the same kind of loss as a partner. But I understood what it feels like after someone you loved has passed. To feel insignificant. To feel thankful for being here, but angry to be left behind. To want to grip onto something greater, something higher so that it didn’t have to be a finite ending. All of it has me anxious to grasp how Grant factors into it. If he’s been “cursed” in that same way. My chest tightens, but my buzz is stronger now. I just need some fresh air.

The air outside isn’t cool, but it feels good to breathe in. The cocktails were delicious, but now I’m realizing thatI haven’t downloaded any rideshare apps on this phone, that would be a whole ordeal trying to figure out. Especially since I didn’t have a credit or debit card to connect it to.Shit.

It only took us about ten minutes to get here from Hadley’s place and the car ride from Ace’s was less than five to there. Tipsy girl math brings that out to be about a half hour if I walk and don’t get lost. There’s only one main road in Fiasco, as far as I know, so it should be easy. I could start walking, and then pick up a cab if one comes along. On a Friday night, there have to be at least a few around.

“Hey there, girlie.” Then the sound of someone’s spit hitting the cement has me turning. “You new ’round here?” The slow drawl is much twangier than anyone else I’ve met in Fiasco. Either way, I know if I tried to ignore him, I’d quickly earn a follower. That was the absolute last thing I wanted.

So I flash a smile, put on my best I’m-not-as-tipsy-as-I-am face and pretend. I’m starting to get better at pretending, but I’ve always excelled at putting small men back into the Polly Pocket-sized egos they’d earned. “What gave it away?”

The twanger has a buddy, and the two of them look like the kind of trouble you never want to meet in the dark. It isn’t tattoos or dark features–those were turn-ons. No, these guys look like bad taste just had a big payout. There might be a gold tooth, I can’t be sure. I don’t want judgmental glances to be misconstrued for interest on my end. I glance at the sign for the bakery, still lit, making the dark night around me feel less scary. But the reality is, nobody’s around to step in and ask these guys to back off. When the one that spoke steps closer, I take in the dark slacks and black shirt. If it was on anyone else, it would be an attractive look, but he’s the kind of guy that makes the back of my throat burn down to my belly.

“You’re a pretty thing, aren’t you?” His eyes drag around my body.

“I’m really not able to say the same about you.” I smile. The sarcasm finally hits him as I flip him off.

“Now, now, new girl, I’m okay with taking Ace’s seconds. Looking like that...” He licks his lower lip, and it sends a wave of nervous disgust through me.

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