Page 66 of Bourbon and Proof

Turning her back to me, she slams the glass upside down on the bar top, then stalks off down the hall to her office.

I pluck open the top three buttons on my shirt as the bourbon drips down my chest, but before I can even untuck it to reach the bottom buttons, she’s hustling back to me.

“You’ve been working with my father.” And without pausing to let me answer, she grits her teeth. “How long?”

Well, shit.This isn’t how I wanted to tell her.

“What have you been paying for, Ace?” She lifts her chin, finger pointed my way, chest heaving as she waits for my response. “Hawk said something, and it just didn’t—” Releasing a frustrated breath, she shakes her head. “Tell me you’re not in business with my father.”

I take my time to finish unbuttoning my shirt. When I finally do, I unclasp the cufflinks and pocket them. Taking off my dress shirt, I wipe what’s left of the bourbon from my chin. “What is it you think I’ve been paying for, Hadley?” I ask as I gather the hem of my undershirt and pull it over my head.

She swallows, looking down at my chest, more distracted. I know this warrants a conversation, but I need her to calm down if she’s going to understand all the moving parts. “You think taking your clothes off is going to chill me out here? Not happening, Foxx.”

“Liar,” I breathe out, taunting her. Hadley pissed off is a fucked-up drug that feeds me. I look down the length of her body, appreciating each curve in a way that I rarely ever do. Allowing my eyes to linger in all the places I want to touch and suck. Eyes narrowed, she plucks the bottle off the bar and pours out another shot, kicking it back with her eyes still on mine. It’s fucking sexy.

“I’ve spent my entire life being dealt half-truths and bullshit answers to appease me.” When she looks down, I feel her dejection competing with her anger. “I’m done with that now.”

My stomach bottoms out. The last thing I ever wanted was for her to think I’m anything like her father. “I made a promise to him,” I tell her, taking a step closer.

She blinks back tears, just as confusion settles in the way she’s looking at me.

“And in return, he agreed to keep men like Switcher away from you. No more pushing for some bullshit marriage to some asshole you didn’t want.” I sniff out a laugh, realizing that’s exactly where she ended up anyway, only the asshole now is me.

She stands taller, pushing back her shoulders and watching me closely as she asks, “What was the promise?”

“Your father capitalized on my weakness, and he had stipulations.” I clear my throat. “After I killed Switcher, Iconfronted your father. I walked right into his house, pissed off and without thinking.” I shake my head, still angry at myself all these years later for being outmaneuvered by him. “I wasn’t going to watch shit like that happen again, Hadley. You being traded or auctioned to the best offer, like you were some kind of property of his.” Rubbing along the back of my neck, I take a deep breath before telling her the rest. “But he had leverage that I didn’t see coming. Switcher didn’t matter. He got what he wanted—an upper hand on the Foxx brand, through me. I gave him a percentage of earnings. I became the private investor for the Finch & King breeding facility. And...” I pause as I look at her. “I paid out monthly the remainder of your trust.”

Her eyes widen. She stares at me as if she’s waiting for more, but I know it’s just because she wasn’t expecting any of this.

“Nobody knows. Not even Griz. I covered any trails that connected the Foxx brand to Wheeler. I promised to stay away from what I wanted, if he left your relationship status alone—no more pieces of shit being paraded around as marriage material to you.”

She closes her eyes for a moment, and when she opens them, a single tear falls down her cheek. Swiping it away, she tries to put on a brave face, still looking angry, but possibly even more emotional. “If you keep something like that from me ever again, I swear to every goddess from Aretha to Zendaya that I will make your life feel like the 10th ring of Hell,” she says firmly, hardening herself.

It's the one thing that equal parts pissed me off and served as the thing I crave. She walks up to the things that would scare the hell out of most, and then flips them off with a charming smile. She’s the kind of woman most men don’t even try to approach or handle—to them, she’s too much. Too confident, too smart, too attractive for those who would never come close to measuring up. It makes her that much more dangerous because she has noidea. When enough people who are supposed to be important to you tell you and show you that you’re not, you start believing it. She has no idea how much power she wields. And she needs to know how important she is to me.

“There’s one thing I still don’t understand...” she trails off, pouring out another shot.

I eye what she’s doing this time, not trusting that her bratty side won’t toss another right at me.

“You said you promised to stay away from what you wanted...” Tilting her head, her eyes collide with mine again as she asks, “What was it you wanted?—”

“Want,” I cut into her question, anticipation thrumming through my veins at what this admission is going to mean. “Ask me what I want?”

Her lip quirks slightly, that small dimple puckering, like she knows what I’m going to say. It’s written all over my face right now and along the lines of everything I’ve done. “What do you wa?—”

“You. I want you.”

She closes her eyes for a moment, absorbing my confession and allowing it to settle into the space left between us. Quietly, she says, almost to herself, “All these years...” With a huffed breath, she shakes her head. “I thought this was one-sided.” When she focuses back on me, she looks angry all over again, maybe even more so. “You pushed.” She steps closer, and my heart pounds more powerfully. “And kept pushing me away. I thought I was crazy, and that I was seeing things I only wanted to see when you looked at me.”

“It’s not that simple,” I say, but before I can elaborate any more, she lets out a sarcastic laugh.

“Oh, it’s pretty fucking simple, Daddy.”

Every hair on my body raises, any atom that contributed to my arousal practically vibrating to take what I want.

“You want me the way that I want you. The way I’vealwayswanted you,” she says, taking one last step closer. Confirmation of how she feels for me is like a match dropped to gasoline.

“Hadley—” I warn, but it’s too late as the single barrel, small batch bourbon splashes across my face.

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