Page 54 of Bourbon and Proof

He steps away, but not before he looks me dead in the eye to say, “Being selfish for once in my goddamn life.”

Laney smacks my chest with the back of her hand as I watch him sulk off. “You’re a good man, Ace.” She smiles at me and tilts her head to my shoulder. Laney fell hard for my brother, and I watched them become each other’s most important people. “I know you’re going to treat my best girl the only way she deserves. And if you’re curious or don’t already know...” She stands taller and then whispers, “That woman deserves the kind of respect she doesn’t expect and the kind of love you’re still unsure if you’re capable of. Anything less puts you on my shit list.”

“Understood, Laney.” I smile at my sister-in-law, looking over at my brother, Grant, who hasn’t said much other than smiling at what he’s overhearing.

She grips onto my arm. “Like a queen, Ace. Treat her like a goddamn queen.”

I give her a tight-lipped nod as I watch Hadley smiling, holding champagne flutes while Lincoln double-fists bourbon and prosecco. When her eyes meet mine, I feel it at the base of my spine, in my gut, and in the tingle along my lips.

It should be like any other day with the family—grilling steaks and drinking bourbon, catching up and laughing. It all feels...easy. As the hours go on, I realize it might be the same, but it’s also wildly different. It’s the first day in a long time when I don’t field calls about problems, or touch base with the team at the distillery. I’m fully present, taking in each moment, not wanting to miss any of this impromptu wedding reception—my wedding reception. I’ve witnessed Hadley’s reactions thousands of times before today, but never so openly or while not being worried she’ll catch me looking. Every time she laughs with her full body, her head tipping back, eyes crinkling, mouth open. When she tells Lark and Lily about her newest combination of Pop Rocks flavors. How she talks comfortably and animatedly with my brothers and their wives, my grandfather, too. Or howshe glances at me and smiles every so often. I’m not sure if it’s because she’s feeling that same sense of easiness or if she’s embellishing our lie.

There has never been a time in my life when I wanted to settle down with someone and fold them into this life. But, then again, the one I just married had been folded into it a long time ago. There’s no learning curve or disapproving family members—she fits in here better than I do sometimes. I let myself get lost in how easy it would be to allow it to play out—finish what we started earlier and just...see.

“Why am I just noticing this now?” Grant says with a mischievous grin, looking right at me as we sit around the firepit.

But it’s Lincoln who answers. “It’s been like that for at least a decade, maybe more. You’ve just been too into your own bullshit, little brother.”

Grant flips him off, looking back at me when he says, “You gave Linc all the reasons why this is happening, but you forgot to mention the part where you’re obsessed with her.”

I run my hands along the lacquered wood arm of the Adirondack chair. “Obsessed is a little aggressive. I’m merely looking at the woman I just married and thinking...”

Lincoln chimes in, “That you’re an idiot.”

Grant adds, “That you’re not as smart as you thought?”

Lincoln carries on, “That you should quit listing off all the reasons why this isn’t real.”

I don’t finish the thought, because they’re both right. For as many times as I’ve watched her laugh the same way, never, until today, have I thought...mine.

“Alright, I brought out the 1923 and a Cowboy,” Laney says as she winks at Grant, coming out to the back patio. “Who wants what?”

Hadley spills through the double doors behind her, along with Faye seconds later, holding rocks glasses. Her hair is piled in a messy knot on her head, wearing a simple white tank top cropped just at the waist of her jeans.

Jesus Christ.I grip the arm of the chair, trying to filter my attention elsewhere.

Laney moves toward my brother, pouring out his blend without him needing to answer.

“Here you go, husband.” Hadley passes me a glass, then says to Laney, “I’ll take the 1923.” She pours into the glass I’m holding, watching me as it starts to fill, and smirks when it hits the center of the rock. “Mind sharing, darling?”

Darling? No.

She tips her chin at me and looks at my lap, just as she takes a sip. I know what she’s asking, and while it’s good for show, the last thing I need right now is her ass rubbing on my dick. And in typical Hadley fashion, she doesn’t wait for a response. She turns and perches her ass along my left thigh, keeping her eyes locked with mine as she takes another sip.Here we go.I move my arm from the chair to around her lower back and rest it along her thigh, letting my fingers grip onto her in a way that seems natural to anyone else looking, but for us is entirely new. And fuck, does it feel good to have her close to me. Clearing my throat, I try not to get lost in this.

Laney’s been talking about something while I’ve been so focused on my wife taking up real estate on my lap that I haven’t been listening. “We have just over twelve-hundred ticket holders, and then down on the main lawn, there will be space for walk-ins. I think the locals are going to love it, but you bet your ass when people catch wind of something exclusive happening here, after the race, people will hop in a rideshare from Churchill Downs and wind up drinking bourbon and listening to music at our place.”

If we wanted tourists to turn their attention back to Fiasco, we needed to do so when plenty of people were already in Kentucky. The Kentucky Derby was the perfect catalyst, and it’s been a massive undertaking, mainly for Laney, who’s done the majority of the planning.

“I’ll catch the tail end of it, if I’m lucky. I’m hoping Midnight Proof will be packed.” She glances back at me, knowing the little detail she shared about the downturn in business she’s been experiencing. She plucks the bottle of Cowboy Edition bourbon and adds another splash into the glass that we’re apparently sharing now.

Her pocket buzzes, and with both hands full with a bottle and a rocks glass, she gives me a half smile. “Go ahead,” she whispers. “Take it out.” Her tone is playful as usual, and it’s hard not to smile back at it. But when I see the screen, my mood instantly changes.

HAWK

Thinking about you.

With a slight wince, she puts the phone on the firepit’s edge. I move her off of my lap so that I can stand. But before I move away, I lean into her.

There are eyes on us, so I kiss the top of Hadley’s head and mumble into her hair, “Make sure that’s over now, sugar.” And without looking back—no matter how much I’d like to—I head toward the distillery to clear my head.

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