Page 71 of Bourbon and Lies

He stops just as he’s about to open the door and looks at me like he wants to say something more. It’s a serious look. One that makes me feel like the weight of the room just changed.

Nervously, I smile. “What?”

He shakes his head. “She does. I thinkshe’sfalling hard for you.”

I need to tell him everything. That there’s a possibility I’ll have to leave again. That I would be committing to him, and him to me, by telling him who I am.

I swallow the lump in my throat as he closes the door behind him, overthinking everything he just said as I hear him sweet-talking to Julep all the way out the door.

It takes me only twenty minutes to find one of his t-shirts, brush my teeth, and comb thru the mess of my hair. I kind of have a glow about me when I take a final glimpse in his bathroom mirror. When I head down the hallway, the coziness of his house feels even warmer than my little cottage. The style and fixtures are nearly the same, but his place has photos peppered throughout of his nieces and brothers. There’re fishing poles leaning against the door in the mudroom, oversized dog beds in various rooms, and framed artwork all about bourbon hung throughout. It’s masculine, but Grant has taste not too far from my own—a home that’s lived in.

When he comes back inside with Julep on his heels, I’m already whisking the eggs into the buttered and heated cast iron pan.

“You making me breakfast?”

I smile upon hearing it. Julep barks and comes charging over to me, but instead of jumping up, she sits in front of me, butt wiggling and waiting for me to pay attention to her. “Almost done, Julep. One sec and I’ll give you all the pets.”

Slipping the pan into the oven, I set the timer.

“Hello, pretty girl,” I croon as I crouch in front of a very excited dog. I rub behind her ears and along the brown coat that stops at her neck. When I look up at Grant, he puts two coffee cups down on the counter.

“You got us coffee?”

“I don’t have a coffee pot anymore.” He leans down and steals a kiss.

“But those are from Crescent de Lune.”

“I didn’t know how you liked yours yet, but I knew one of the girls at the bakery would remember. I was today-years-old when I found out what a flat white was.” He pops a raspberry in his mouth. “Did Hadley happen to mention Ace’s birthday is coming up in a couple of weeks?”

“Yes, she did. I’ll be there. But to help. She knows I’m her girl whenever she needs me.”

“That so?” he says with a smirk. “Here I was, thinking you’d be my date.”

I look over at the timer on the stove, recognizing that there are about sixteen minutes left before the Dutch baby will be ready.

“Is that how you ask a girl on a date? You just assume she’ll join you after you’ve had your way with her?” I’m still stuck on the fact that this man went out of his way for me, and I’m a bit speechless for it. But I like teasing him too.

He leans against the counter and hesitates for a second before he says, “It’s been a long time since I’ve asked a girl out.” That shouldn’t be all that surprising with the way that he doesn’t seem all that interested in most people. “But in case you misunderstood me, honey. When I woke up with the taste of you on my tongue and the smell of you in my beard, I considered you mine.”

I blink, because the way this man talks to me feels like foreplay. And all I can think of is that I want to be his. At this moment, I want to claim him the same way he just did me.

“Any chance Julep wants to go play in the backyard for a few minutes?”

He stares at me, not understanding the request until I walk closer and drag my fingers along the outline that’s starting to tent his gray sweats.

“I’d like to consider you mine, but I haven’t had the pleasure of your taste on my tongue yet.”

The smile that takes over his face is contagious.

I slip my fingers into the waistband, and I’m instantly greeted with the firm head of his cock tucked right there. I look up and see his surprise shift to the same kind of hunger I’m feeling.

With a smirk, he tilts his head toward it. “I was already hard when I saw you wearing my t-shirt.”

“That’s all it took?”

“You underestimate how highly I think about your body.” He runs his thumb across my lips—a move that I’m realizing is a favorite of his. “And now that I know what’s under that shirt...” He blows out a breath.

“Good, ’cause I got wet just seeing you bring me a coffee,” I say as I sink to my knees in front of him.

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