Page 24 of Bourbon and Secrets

One hand holds the bowl while she drops the other from holding the spoon. The cereal milk splashes as she glides her now free hand into the pocket of her brightly colored tapestry robe. The movement loosens the belt, and it gapes open just enough to see the valley of smooth skin that runs from her neck to her navel. A mere slip of skin and something in me thrums to life. The same way it had at Midnight Proof. The same way it had for the briefest moment in that cornfield.Fuck, I forgot what the hell I’m doing here.

I clear my throat and meet her gaze. The smirk playing along her lips tells me she knows exactly where I was looking. She thumbs the screen of her phone, and the music cuts out. “You want to tell me again how uninterested you are?”

She shifts her weight, just as another song comes on. Her movement gives me a better view of her robe, which might be covered in richly colored florals, but the material is practically sheer. I can see just enough that it takes everything in me not to catalog every detail.

The same tone of music that played the night I watched her at Midnight Proof comes over the speakers placed throughout the room, a trumpet kicking high and then the sultry voice of Nina Simone crooning about putting a spell on someone. I smirk at the song choice because she’s really fucking good at tweaking myattention. Looking down, I spot something wrapped around her thigh. “Is that a knife strapped to your leg?”

She quirks an eyebrow. “Did you just think I was happy to see you, Foxx?”

“Fucking hell,” I mutter. The handful of minutes I’ve spent with this woman doesn’t matter, because every damn time she says or does something, it throws me off center.It pisses me off almost as much as it turns me on.

I push my glasses up the bridge of my nose and wipe my hand along my jaw and across my mouth. “Where’s Maggie?” I ask, changing the subject.

Over the music, she yells, “You realize you can’t just walk into someone’s house and demand things?—”

But that’s where she’s entirely wrong. It takes no more than a few quick strides until I’m inches away from her. I flick my eyes down, taking in the tint of her skin and the smell of her body this close to mine—warm, smokey vanilla. Her chest rises and falls with the smallest hitch.

“You don’t know the first thing about me,” I tell her, my voice coming out gruffer than I’d like. Her chin tips back as my attention flicks to her pursed lips, lingering there. “Because if you did, you would know that I don’t ask. I don’t take well to threats. And I don’t forget.” I tilt my head to the side, to see if she has anything to say back to that. But I’m met with silence. “And I’m the furthest thing from happy to see you.” Leaning in closer, my mouth hovers over hers. “So I’ll say it again, Peach. I don’t want you here.”

She sways slightly as I take a step back. It’s a more satisfying reaction than it should be.

“Maggie,” I shout, my eyes still trained on Faye. “If you’re here, you need to come with me. Ace wants to see you.”

Maggie jogs down the stairs just a few seconds later. “I’m right here. What’s up, Linc?”

At the same time that Faye says, “Linc?” I can’t help but react to the purples and greens peppered all over Maggie’s face. A scab runs vertically across her upper lip and more bruises look like they’re almost healed in the yellowed tint along her forearms.

Jesus. “What the hell happened?” I rush out.

She glances at her sister, who’s watching the exchange. “I advertised to the wrong people.” Her eyes water as she stares at my chest, zoning out. “I’ve been doing really well. It’s been one of my best streaks.”

Maggie has problems with gambling. My brothers and I know that, but as long as it doesn’t touch our business, who are we to get involved?

“Did this have anything to do with?—?”

She cuts me off, “No. Nothing like that.”

But by the way Faye studies her sister, I’m not sure she believes much of what she’s saying. If this was a result of what she’s been doing for us, then I plan to make it right.

Maggie wraps her arms around my waist and rests her forehead against my chest. It’s not typical behavior. I don’t usually hug Maggie Calloway, but she’s been folded into my family for the last few years, not to mention she’s been good to my girls, so it doesn’t feel totally unnatural to show her some comfort. “When did this happen?” I ask as I watch Faye.

Her arms are crossed, looking pretty fucking angry. “Go ahead, tell Linc. We both know you’re not telling me a damn thing about what or who you’re involved with.”

But instead of acknowledging her sister, Maggie pulls back, face damp as she asks, “Ace wants to see me?”

I give her a nod and a tight-lipped smile.

“Maggie. You don’t need to go anywhere,” Faye says in a huff, as her sister pushes through the front door. With a confused look, she asks me, “What did you and your family get my sister into?”

“I don’t think that’s something I should be talking to you about.” I tip my head to the door. “If she wanted you to know, then my guess is that she would have told you.”

The roar of an engine pulls our attention, and Faye rushes to the window. “Did she just take my truck?”

I let out a laugh. “Yup.” I flip my keyring around my fingers. “Your sister is a bit of a loose cannon sometimes, case in point.”

She stares at the dirt and dust that’s kicking up from the tire tread, then her eyes snap to mine, full of fire.

“Are you sleeping with her?”

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