Page 80 of Bourbon and Proof

“Gentlemen, I’m currently the executor of my father’s entire estate, which means you’re going to do as I wish. Roy?” I smile and turn to my left to carry on. “Roy is my attorney and is present to be sure that I don’t have any problems. On top of this, I’d like what’s left in my trust fund to be rolled into a high-yield savings account. I have a plan for it, but we can discuss that at another time.”

Kentucky isn’t full of prudish misogynists, but they do still exist. They’re peppered in throughout just about any state where the main sources of income lean more masculine. Here, there’s still a boys club mentality in most arenas. Specifically, the arena where Wheeler Finch has a lot of money tied up, and I’m planning to reallocate all of it.

It takes just over two hours to wipe the accounts clean. My father no longer has the means to hurt anyone else. And he’sgoing to be in for a very rude awakening that there’s no longer collateral, considering that’s how he had kept his attorneys.

When everything is transferred to Ace’s and my newly formed joint account, I turn to the real estate broker and tell him, “I would like to purchase all the commercial real estate on Main. I don’t care who from; make the offer worth their while, and I’ll pay cash. You know I’m good for it.” I wink. “If the bank has any liens or outstanding loans for those properties, I’d like to take care of those as well. Oh, and when that’s set, I would like to sell them to the following people for $1.”

I slide a sheet listing out all the business owners on Main. Ace covers his mouth, trying not to laugh at the way the group around the table nearly chokes on their own saliva.

“Roy, please make sure that all of these business owners receive their offers within the next two weeks...”

Their wide-eyed and slack-jawed expressions are priceless. And I’m ready to tackle the pushback on my demands.

“I’ll be outside when you’re ready,” Ace says, kissing my forehead as he stands and excuses himself. I could have done this on my own, but I wanted him here. He made me feel like this is as much his burden as mine, and I feel stronger having him at my side.

Just over an hour later, we pull up to the house, and I haven't stopped smiling. We stopped for a celebratory donut and chatted with Presh. Her raspberry-filled beignets melted in my mouth as Ace asked her if she had seen his grandfather again recently.

“Heard Griz came for a visit a little while ago.” She eyed him warily and shook her head before she said, “He knew it was strawberry season and that I’d have some chocolate-covered ones.”

“Is that all?” he asked her. “No other side business exchange?”

It felt like a strange question to ask. The only other business she ran besides her incredible baked goods were fake IDs. And I’m not sure why Griz would ever need one of those.

“These won’t be as good tomorrow, but for breakfast,” I say, kissing the tips of my gathered fingers, “waaaaaay better than your overnight oats.”

He smiles, throwing the car in park. “You’re welcome to make breakfast, sugar.”

I shake my head. “Nope, that was a very specific item in our agreement. And I love everything else you make, but that was a tad too healthy for me the other day. Griz knows where it’s at with his breakfast orders.”

Reaching his hand out for mine, he pulls me closer as I add, “You handle the cooking. And cleaning. It’s yours and Griz’s place, after all.”

He stops us from moving any farther along the side path of the house. “Would you want a place that’s yours? Or ours?”

My heart stutters. Hearing him say the word “ours” with such vulnerability makes me warm and cozy. It feels really good to make up a part of a whole. “I like it here,” I say, looking at the modern farmhouse. “This house has felt like home to me for so long. I think I need to add a little more of me to it, but I wouldn’t want somewhere new.”

He clears his throat. “Living with my grandfather wasn’t something I planned, but it just worked out that way. You know that he and I butt heads, but I like having him around. He was the only one who made me feel like I wasn’t going to drown from trying to be everything for my brothers when my parents passed.” Tipping his head to the side, he gets lost in the memories for a moment. “And then it just became convenient. It’s big enough here that if we didn’t want to see the other person, we wouldn’t have to.”

“Let's put it this way. Griz is my family now in the most official way that I’m going to get. And let's not pretend we’re living in close quarters. There are, what?” I smile, thinking about how many nights I stayed here and I wasn’t sure if either of them noticed. “Three bathrooms on our side of the house alone? It’s not like we’re sharing much space.”

“Why are we going this way?” I ask as we skirt around the side of the house and down a little farther until we come parallel to where the newly constructed rickhouse is being built. It goes right over the space that burned down with their oldest barrels inside. It was a helluva mess. It went up in flames a couple of years ago; we were lucky it didn’t spread, but Griz was smart. They had built the places that barrels of bourbon would age with enough distance between them for that exact reason.

“Do you know what barrels will end up in there yet?” I ask him, eyeing the new wood and frame.

“Yes. None,” he says, so matter-of-factly that I look up at him, thinking I heard him wrong.

“None?” I chuckle. “Are you about to make a joke about it being none-ya business?”

He lets out a sniffed laugh. “No. But I’m thinking about doing something else there. I’m not entirely sure what yet, but I’m hoping to pull some inspiration. And it’s very much your business.”

I brush off how much I love that he said that and instead ask, “Inspiration from where?”

His arms wrap around my waist. “The friends I mentioned, in Colorado. They’ve invited me to see some of what’s new out there.”

I smile at the idea of these friends of Ace’s that exist in the world. He’s charming and a businessman, but seeing him as a friend isn’t something I’ve witnessed outside of his brothers.

The light from the day is long gone. And back here, there isn’t much light pollution, not facing in this direction. The only glow comes from the summer string lights hung around the entertaining space behind the house. I lift his hand to my mouth and kiss his knuckles. There are plenty of sexy things that I’m fully capable of doing, but for some reason, that simple gesture makes him growl softly while his other hand grips my hip. He kisses my eyebrow, right over the scar I had gotten a long time ago. On a night when he made me feel as safe as he is right now.

“Make whatever arrangements you need for the bar. We’re leaving tomorrow.”

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