Page 51 of Catch
I glanced at Miles. He was stretched out beside me, arms crossed behind his head, looking so relaxed it was annoying. That lazy grin of his had been driving me crazy all day.
“Hey,” I said, breaking the quiet.
Miles turned his head toward me, raising an eyebrow. “Think of something?”
Before answering him, I leaned in and kissed him. Kissing him could definitely be my new hobby. I was good at it, loved the idea of it, and would be willing to practice just to get perfect at it. Plus, the way his lips looked when I pulled back, all swollen and perfect, it was practically like I had painted a Picasso just by pressing my lips to his.
“I want to drink whiskey,” I finally said, watching as the effect my kiss had on him faded and he looked at me curiously.
“You want your new hobby to be getting drunk?”
“No,” I laughed, and swatted at him. “But I’ve never tried whiskey, yet everyone in country music, including me, has a song about it.”
“Okay,” he nodded, biting his lip to keep from laughing. “I guess we are gonna be drinking whiskey.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
MILES
When I saidI was gonna drink whiskey with Loxley, I didn’t mean anytime soon. And definitely not on a night when I had to work the next day. Sure, I enjoyed a beer at Fiddlers now and then, or even at home. But whiskey? That’s a whole different beast.
The week had flown by in a blur of work for me, and music for her. I’d come home, we’d eat, we’d stay up too late in each other’s arms, and then we’d fall asleep just to do it all over again.
Grams had called to check in since I’d missed Sunday dinner. Easton caught me on patrol and dragged me to lunch. Linc tried to pry, sensing something was different, but I managed to brush it off with a casual “life’s all good.”
And honestly, itwasall good.
Having Loxley waiting for me every day turned the worst parts of the job, like hauling the Murphy brothers out of the bar or dealing with endless barking dog calls, into minor inconveniences. Because I knew the day would end with her on her knees, her mouth on me, and her moaning in my ears.
There was just one problem. I was getting used to it way too fast. It was unsettling how easily I’d started imagining this as myforever, even though I knew she wouldn’t be here forever. But damn, it felt like she belonged with me.
Captain called me into his office just as I was wrapping up for the night. It was Thursday, and with Friday off, it was finally mine and Lox’s whiskey night. For some reason, Loxley had been looking forward to it, and her excitement made the idea of getting drunk sound better than it had since the day I turned 21.
“Yeah, Captain?” I asked, stepping inside. I didn’t want to sit because I didn’t want to stay long, but he motioned to the chair and shut the door.
“Everything okay?”
“It’s been two weeks since Loxley Adams disappeared,” he said, his tone heavy. “The buzz around here is that when we find her, it won’t be good.” He took a deep breath while my heart raced. He thought Loxley was in trouble, and I wanted to tell him not to worry, that she was safe.
But I couldn’t. Not yet.
“If her team really thought a crazy superfan had taken her, there’d be more people involved by now,” he continued. “They’re keeping this too quiet. Makes me think there’s more to the story.”
“You’re probably right,” I agreed, keeping my tone neutral. There was definitely more to the story. “I’ll keep my eye out, like always.”
“We’ll need to do more than that,” he said firmly. “We’re going to have to be the ones to find her. Enjoy your day off. Take the whole weekend, actually. Come Monday, we have someone coming in town who might help us get to the bottom of this mess.”
His phone rang, ending the conversation. He waved me out without offering more details, but I had a feeling the visitor was one of the people that wanted Loxley back on stage as soon as possible.
Instead of heading straight home, I stopped by Fiddlers. Blue raised an eyebrow when she saw me in uniform. “You must be lost,” she teased. “Or are you expecting trouble I don’t know about?”
I smiled, taking a seat at the far end of the bar. “I need your advice.”
She snorted. “Miles, I’m the last person anyone goes to for advice.”
“Maybe, but you’re the best bartender I know. And this is whiskey advice.”
Her laugh nearly echoed in the empty bar. “Whiskey, huh?”
