Page 43 of Bourbon and Secrets

I feel like I knew the answer already. Griz is adored by his family. My sister too, apparently. He reminds me of Lincoln—the arrogant charm with a sense of protectiveness that emanates when it comes to their family. I understand that. It might be the most glaringly obvious thing we have in common.

In the late afternoon light, Lincoln Foxx, with his black-rimmed glasses and nearly perfect features, looks like he’s in disguise. A different version of the man I met on the edge of a cornfield and in a dark alley. I clear my throat trying to knock myself out of this. A little breathing room from this man would be smart. I make a smooching sound to get Kit moving. But as we take a few steps away, I can’t help but instigate.

“I know you’re watching me walk away,” I call out as I turn my head to the side.

“Hard not to when you consider how much I liked watching you come,” he says, far too loudly. Before it even registers what he said, I turn around, and he’s opening the door, smiling at me as he walks back inside Teasers.

I realize I’m smiling too as I focus back on the sidewalk and toward my truck, but it’s the lingering feeling of still being watched that has me looking around and sliding my hand inside my pocket. I feel for my pepper spray and hold it in my palm as a low whistle rings out from across the street.

It’s the familiar sound of a race beginning, that recognizable sound that’s typically a trumpet or bugle, but right now, it was a slower whistle. The hairs along my arms stand on end, Kit growling just as I catch the tall, thin stature leaning against the lamppost.Waz King.My heart picks up pace as he watches whileI move to my truck door. When Kit barks, Waz lets out a laugh that makes my skin crawl. She keeps barking as he turns away and walks down the street.

I don’t scare easily. My knee-jerk reaction to intimidation is to get angry, but Waz, he’s the kind of man any woman should be concerned about. And my mind immediately goes to my sister. Whatever Maggie is doing for Wheeler Finch and Waz King needs to stop.

Chapter 15

Lincoln

“Hey, Hal.”I wave as I jog down the porch steps, barefoot, my hair still wet from my shower. Lark and Lily have their arms crossed at the foot of the driveway, watching as Hal jumps down from the cab of his truck.

“Lincoln, how ya doin’, man?” He shakes my hand, and then moves to the back of his trailer. Hal’s family owns some of the farmland that we lease; however, instead of corn and crops, they own livestock.

I’m not sure what he’s doing here, but I ask, “How’s business these days?”

Unlocking the right side of the trailer first, and then moving around to the left, he keeps the small talk brief. “Every year is a little different, but mostly this has been a good one.”

I rest my hands on my hips. He didn’t stop over for a simple hello. “What’s going on? Did you need something?”

Shaking his head, he lowers the back trailer door. “Nope, all good. This one is good natured. I really think she’ll take to y’all.”

And before I can even form the question, a sandy-colored cow moseys down the trailer bridge. Its hair atop its head is longer than the rest, but still short enough to see its big black eyes.

I laugh nervously. “Lark and Lily Foxx, what’s happening right now?”

Hal looks between them, shifting his focus back to me. “I’m delivering your highland cow.” The look on my face must tell him exactly how much I know about this. “Paid in full. Your girls dropped off the final payment a few days ago.”

Eyes wide and chest tight, I turn my head slowly toward my girls. “You bought a cow.”

You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. “I’m sorry, Hal. You’re going to have to take her back?—”

Lily yells, “No! Dad, c’mon!”

Lark stays quiet as she worries at her lip and plays with the hem of her Spice Girls t-shirt.

“How did you pay for this?” I ask quietly. It’s the even tone that tells my girls I’m about to flip my shit.

“Curse purse,” they respond in unison.

What. The. Fuck.

Hal smiles to himself and walks over to me with the cow meandering behind him. “It’s a great animal to have around, if you can afford to keep her sheltered in these cold weather months and fed with some mix of grass hay and alfalfa. If you need some time to decide if that’s something you’d like to do, I can keep her for a little while.” He looks behind me at who I would assume are my girls trying to figure out how to explain this to me. “Give me a call in a few days and tell me if you’d rather I find her a new home. My animals need to be somewhere they’re wanted and well looked after. And I’m real sorry, Lincoln. I shouldn’t have assumed you cleared this.”

“We’ll love her, Dad,” Lark says, looking right at me, eyes pleading. “Please.” And it guts me. It hits me in a way that has me realizing that I’m not the kind of man who’s going to say no without good reason. And I’m realizing I don’t have one.

“Lark, what are you going to do with a cow?”

“Dottie,” Hal corrects. “The girls named her when they bought her.”

I glare at Hal as Lark follows up by saying, “Doesn’t she look like her name should be Dottie?”

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