Page 35 of Bourbon and Secrets

“Faye, that’s not the agreement we have. You?—”

“If you want me to keep Blackstone interested so I can walk into his private event, then you’ll amend our agreement.”

He rests his head on his hand, looking at me for a beat too long. “Please tell me you’re not single, or I’m seriously going to try to marry the shit out of you, Faye Calloway.”

Rolling my eyes, I shift my attention for a brief second back to Lincoln, who has moved on from watching me to spinning Hadley around their section of the dance floor.

“You’re deflecting. My relationship status is not up for discussion, Cortez. And the only thing I want from you is answers.” I glance back at him with a tilt of my head. “And a dance.”

Chapter 13

Lincoln

“This wouldn’t have beenmy first choice for a night out,” I say to Hadley as I raise her arm and lead her through a short spin.

“Yeah, well, sometimes you just need to shimmy to a shitty Morgan Wallen cover.” She laughs, breaking from our coupled movement and joining the line dance that’s been moving in unison around us.

She follows my line of sight that’s locked onto Faye and Cortez as he guides her from their high-top to the already crowded dance floor. Faye doesn’t waste a minute leading them into a dance—she looks like she wouldn’t know how to let someone else lead. Before Hadley even opens her mouth, I cut her off and change the subject.

“Griz told me an interesting little bit of gossip from his last book club.”

She wiggles her eyebrows. “Oh yeah? I’m assuming it’s about me.”

I smile at my best friend, holding out my hand for her and bringing it around the back of me until she’s front and center. “They love talking about the ‘wild’ Hadley Jean Finch.”

“I’mwildlysingle, Linc. And you know, as well as anyone, that creeping into your mid-30s single means a person is actuallyobligatedto explore.” She leans her head on my shoulder as the chorus slows. “You been doing a lot of ‘exploring’ lately?”

I don’t consciously do it, but I find Faye in the crowd again, just a handful of feet away. She’s trying really fucking hard not to glance back at me. I clear my throat, tamping down thoughts of the short blonde who has all but barreled her way back into my mind. “It’s been a little bit.”

“Getting bored with your dip-and-slip routine?”

I can’t help but smile at Hadley’s special brand of interrogation. She shifts her attention to the hand that’s holding hers and leading her through another turn.

“The girls won’t remember their mother any less if you stop wearing that all the time, you know.”

I glance at my empty ring finger. “I’m not wearing it now.”

“Alright. Then it’s a good night for you to explore with someone who is not even remotely boring.” Then she mumbles, “You can kill me later,” as she pulls me farther into the crowd. The song changes and everyone gets rowdier when the distinct plucking of guitar strings intros the cover of “Shivers.” It’s not even a country song, but somehow the band throws twang onto an Ed Sheeran song, and all of a sudden, the floor’s mobbed. “She’s a professional, Linc. Better show off a little,” Hadley says, letting me lead her in a series of spins and pass throughs.

“Cortez!” Hadley shouts, throwing herself right at Faye and Cortez, who’ve somehow ended up a few feet from us. “Come dance with me, you sexy son of a bitch.” My best friend just made tonight a helluva lot more entertaining.

I finally get a full view of Faye. She looks too fucking good in a short-as-hell skirt that reminds me of the flowers tattooed on her arm. Add the jean vest that’s framing mouth-watering cleavage.

Faye smiles at Hadley, as my best friend manages to tell this side of the room, “I need a sample of your date tonight, Faye. You’re welcome to mine.”

When she looks at me, I swear her neck takes on a pinked hue that works its way quickly up to her cheeks. She immediately shuts that idea down with a “no thanks.” She brushes right past me, and it has me biting back a smile.

Hadley’s head is thrown back, laughing at whatever Cortez is saying to her, so I follow Faye’s path through the crowd. She pulls her phone from her boot and heads toward the narrow hallway that leads to the bathroom.

The bartender steps over to me as I lean against the bar. “What’ll you have?”

“Bourbon. Neat.”

“Any preference?” she asks with a sweet smile.

“Dealer’s choice,” I tell her as my phone buzzes. I sit on the bar stool as I look at who it’s from. I stop paying attention to what the bartender is going to pour and instead open Faye’s text.

PEACH

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