Page 71 of Bourbon and Proof

My phone vibrates along the counter. It feels like my stomach knots every time I hear it telling me there’s a text.

UNKNOWN

You realize that by ignoring this, it’s not going away?

Do not push me. You may be fucking my brother, but do not fuck with me when it comes to paying for what’s been promised.

HADLEY

Governor?

That asshole.I smirk, knowing he has no plans to answer my question. I’m not shaken knowing who this particular threat came from. I’m starting to replace anxious thoughts with anger every time another unknown text comes through.

“Are you going somewhere?” I ask as soon as Griz walks back inside. His head swings up fast, not expecting me to be sitting at the long counter, casually enjoying my sparkling water. He changes course and pads into the kitchen, sitting down next to me. The size of this house makes it feel inviting, but it also gives a sense of privacy. I imagine that’s one of the perks that’s kept Griz and Ace living together all this time.

“How much did you overhear?” he asks, swiping a piece of cheese from the cutting board.

“I’m not sure,” I say honestly. “I know better than to listen in on conversations. Eavesdropping never did me any good.” Popping a grape in my mouth, I take a minute to decide if I want to know the answer to the question I’m about to ask.

“Go ahead, ask whatever it is you’re going to ask, Hadley Jean,” he says, and then swipes a slice of apple.

I inhale deeply, my heart beating a little faster as I ask, “Are you dying?”

He barks out a laugh, followed by, “What? No, I’m not dying. At least not as far as I’m aware. Hell, don’t jinx me like that. You hit my age, and even thinking it might be bad luck.”

I can’t help but get teary-eyed as I laugh with him. “Between taking your official retirement from bourbon?—”

He cuts me off, “I ain’t never retiring from bourbon, Hadley Jean. I’m pretty sure that’s what’s keeping me alive at this point.”

“You know what I mean. Handing over the company.” I glare at him and add, “With stipulations. And now, hearing that you’re tying up loose ends...”

“You said you didn’t eavesdrop,” he tuts with a quirked eyebrow.

I pinch two of my fingers together, leaving the tiniest gap. “A smidge.”

Plucking two pieces of cheese, he pops them in his mouth. “Is this girl dinner that I’m eating right now?”

I smile at him, nodding. “My version of it, yes.”

He hums. “You realize it’s charcuterie, right?”

“Yes, but I have French fries in the air fryer and need to whip up a martini. Then it’s perfect. Want to join me?”

He nods, giving me a look like it was silly to even ask, and then rests his elbows on the counter. “I would rather not tell you all the details. I had that meeting purposely, so nobody, especially my grandson, would ask too many questions.”

“Griz, if you tell me we were just here eating a delicious girl dinner together tonight, then that’s our story. A perk of officially being your granddaughter-in-law,” I whisper.

His eyes look glassy, but in typical Griz fashion, he makes the emotion disappear with a simple tilt of his mustache. “I like the sound of that—not just the innuendo of keeping this between us either. I mean the part about you being something I’ve felt in my heart for a long-ass time now.”

My chest warms, the backs of my eyes burning. “Don’t get sappy on me. I need to get my bearings for what will hopefully be a rowdy and packed house at the bar tonight.”

He nods, and just like that, switches the mood. “Alright, you need to tell me what we’ll need for these martinis.”

“You’re going to have vodka?” I laugh out as I pull out the blue cheese from the refrigerator.

“I’d prefer gin, but I’ll have whatever you want to serve up.” He gets up from the counter, on a mission. “And in case I forget to tell you, having you in this house and married to Atticus feels like it was always meant to be.”

A part of me agrees. The part that’s fantasized about more than just being with Ace Foxx. The part that wanted to be a part of this family in any way I could. I swallow down the nerves of knowing that this all began as an agreement. A convenient, contractual marriage, and now, after all that’s happened, I don’t know how the hell I’m going to ever want to leave it.

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