Page 112 of Your Last First Kiss
“Thank you, everyone,” Grady says into the microphone. “And thank you, Miller and Mr. Henry, for your transparency. Unless anyone has questions related to the ethics of this project proceeding, I think we can call a vote. Am I correct in assuming that someone will be available to answer more questions this evening?”
“Yes,” Miller speaks up. “We’ll all be here for a couple of hours.”
“Great.” Grady knocks on the podium, and all eyes return to him. “All in favor of allowing the TAC to proceed, please raise your hand.”
Nearly every hand in the room goes up in a flash.
“All those opposed, raise your hands.”
Three hands lift. Duncan’s, Eddy’s, and someone in the back I can’t see.
“Majority rules. Mr. Henry, you’re good to go.”
Miller crashes into my side and wraps me in a hug.
“That’s it? There are no papers to sign or anything?” I ask.
“There will be eventually for the state, but the town puts everything to a vote. We’re good to go!”
I shake my head as an odd lightness eases over my shoulders. When has anything ever been that easy?
The thought instantly vanishes when I lock eyes with Eddy, who is stewing in the corner with another beer in his slimy hands.
He pushes off the bar like he’s coming for me, but another Reid brother steps in before he gets far. They’re not close enough to hear their words, but there’s no mistaking the giant Reid hand pressing into the center of Eddy’s chest. Grady joins them a second later, followed by the third brother.
They close ranks around Eddy, and by the set of Grady’s stance, I’m assuming he’s laying down the law of his land here in the brewery.
It makes me appreciate Grady and his brothers all the more. They’re good people. My kind of people. Studying the ones who are scattering throughout the room, I’ve never felt more at home in a group of near strangers.
If ever I needed a sign that I was on the right path, this would be it.
CHAPTER35
PENNY
Stress is exhausting. It’s been an hour since Dillon finished his speech in which he essentially outed us in front of everyone, and people are finally starting to ease back on the questions.
Most didn’t even ask about the TAC—they were too interested in our new resident to be bothered by business.
I don’t blame them, either. Dillon is a fascinating subject I thoroughly enjoy studying.
But I’ve had an uncomfortable awareness all night. The kind that happens when you know you’re about to be attacked, but you don’t know where it’s coming from. It’s making my head pound from the muscles bunched at the base of my skull. Eddy hasn’t approached me, but I don’t think that’s for lack of trying.
I know I’ll have to speak to him eventually, but not tonight. Not when I have to go home and care for his daughters, one that has yet to sleep through the night. Not when it’s time to have a conversation with our eldest son about Dillon.
My head spins, and my mental lists begin to form again.
What does Eddy want from me?
Keep an eye on him so he can’t get to the kids.
What will he do when he approaches Dillon?
Are people still judging me based on Eddy’s decisions?
Protect the boys and their sisters at all costs.
The kids come first. Always.
