Page 10 of Driving Whiskey Wild
“Do you know how much courage it takes to open your own ice cream store with your inheritance and have no idea if you’ll sink or swim?”
“See?” Penny said. “We are definitely sisters, ’cause you’re doing the same thing with your catering company. Will you bring me some of whatever you’re making?”
“Sure. They’re cookies. I’m going to spend the morning choosing new appliances for the bar, and this time when I go there, I’m not going to run like a scared kitten into the kitchen. I’m going to pretend the customers are my catering clients, and put myself at ease.”
“In other words, you’re going to distract them from your blond hair, blue-eyed goody-two-shoes image with food.”
“Pretty much. But really, it’s about distracting me, not them.”
“Throw some jeans on, and a pair of boots. That’ll help you fit in.”
“This is about me being comfortable, and I’m comfortable in skirts and dresses. I’ve got this. You’ll see. I’ll come by before I head over to the bar.”
After she ended the call, she noticed her message light was on and scrolled to her text messages. She didn’t recognize the number, but when she opened the text and read it—Here when you need me. B—she realized it was the message Bullet had sent her last night, and lightning ricocheted inside her.
She stared at the text, thinking about the way he’d plowed into the bar last night and had dragged them all out of there, no questions asked. Was that the way the Whiskeys did things? Or was that just Bullet’s way? What if she hadn’t been tipsy? Would he have let her stay to find her own way home?
Would I have wanted him to?
She added his name to her contacts, then set about making the cookies. She mixed and kneaded, rolled, and cut, creating dozens of motorcycles, leather jackets, and boots. She was excited to see the customers’ faces when they tasted her special recipe. Yes, it’s the customers I’m hoping love them. Not Bullet. Nope. Not him.
Yeah, right. I can’t even lie to myself!
While the cookies baked, she shopped online for appliances, comparing prices, sizes, and warranties. She called the companies and negotiated discounts for her top three choices, printed out the spec sheets, and put them in a folder alongside the budget she and Dixie had come up with. She and Dixie were meeting again Friday morning to discuss the kitchen renovation.
After the cookies cooled, she took her time decorating them, copying pictures from the Internet to define the motorcycle parts from the seats and fuel tanks (which she’d had no idea was the big thing in front of the seat), to the spokes on the wheels and fenders. As she studied and copied, she learned the locations of shock absorbers and other mechanical parts, making mental notes to try larger motorcycle cookies so she could include those details. She used black frosting on the jacket- and boot-shaped cookies, added silver zippers to the jackets and soles to the leather boots. She wrote WHISKEY BRO’S or WB’s on each one, and made a special cookie for Bullet. Then she set them carefully on her pink catering trays, wrapped them up, adding her standard pink ribbons with FINLAY’S printed on them. She changed into a pretty coral-colored dress, and because Penny might be right, she wore her brown leather knee-high boots.
She stuffed her folders and phone into her bag and hoisted it over her shoulder, taking one last look around her living room. Her gaze caught on a yellow sticky note on her calendar. She plucked the calendar from the coffee table, laughing and shaking her head as she read what could only be a note from Bullet, written in red ink and stuck to that coming Friday. This is when you need me.
She vacillated between smiling and stewing nervously all the way to Penny’s ice cream shop. When she arrived, she was in a smiling stage. She breezed in the door, the bells chiming overhead, and it took her sister less than thirty seconds to say, “Holy crap. You either got laid or you’re about to.” Penny looked at her watch. “It’s five thirty. I’m going with about to get laid.”
Finlay wrinkled her nose. “Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?” She handed her a bag of cookies.
“Mom’s too far away to kiss, but I do lots of dirty things with my mouth.” She stuck out her tongue and wiggled it. Their mother had moved to Montana two years ago and had since remarried.
“Ew! Pen!”
Penny peeked into the bag and inhaled. “Ah, sugary goodness. I am so glad you’re back.”
“You run an ice cream store. You can have sugar anytime you want.”
Penny bumped her with her hip and said, “But not cookies made with love by my favorite sister. Now, about getting laid…”
“Not happening. I’m just happy, that’s all.”
“Because…?”
Finlay didn’t know exactly what Bullet meant by her needing him on Friday, but she knew if she said anything to Penny she’d push her to explore, so instead she said, “Even though it freaks me out, it’s easier knowing that he knows I have thought about him as more than just some pushy guy.”
“You always did love open communication. You get that from Dad. Remember what he used to say when we’d go out and give him vague answers about where we were going?”
“‘How can I keep you safe if I don’t know where you’re going?’” they both said in unison.
“I miss him,” Penny said. “I think he’d like knowing we are both here in Peaceful Harbor, and doing well.”
“He knows.” Finlay hugged her. She’d always believed that her father was watching over them. They’d been close to their parents, and when their mother had moved away because the memories of their father made it too hard for her in Peaceful Harbor, she and Penny had understood. And when she fell in love with another man, they were happy for her. Though neither believed their mother would ever love anyone the way she had their father. He’d been funny, loving, and he worked hard to support their family. He was one of the hardest workers at the power plant.
“I’ve got to go. I have a lot to do today,” Finlay said, and headed for the door. “I have to start menu planning!”
“Fun, fun. Just make sure there’s room on your menu for dessert.” Penny winked. As Finlay walked out the door, she called after her, “That means sex!”
Finlay spun around, mortified that the woman walking by had heard what her sister had said. “Penelope Anne!” She glared at Penny.
Penny thrust her hips forward while pulling her arms back and made a face like she was in the throes of an orgasm.
Great. Now she was thinking about Bullet and sex.
As she drove toward the bar, she couldn’t help wondering what Bullet, who was all power and forward motion, would be like in bed. He’s a Bullet train. Her stomach fluttered, and her pulse quickened. No, no, no. She tried to think about work, cookies, the cars on the road. Anything other than Bullet. But his seductive, demanding eyes plagued her. And now, thanks to Penny, so did the rest of his body.
I want to see you without your shirt on…I know I want to see you nake—
Shivers tickled up her spine.
This cannot be happening.
Bullet’s raspy voice slithered through her mind. Don’t fight it, Finlay. You know you want to take me for a ride.
She shoved her hand beneath the wrapping that covered the cookies, grabbed one of the motorcycle cookies, and shoved it into her mouth. Three hundred pounds, here I come.
BULLET SLID A glass of beer across the bar to Lance “Crow” Burke, one of the Dark Knights. His family owned Mid-Harbor Housing Supply and Renovation, and Bullet had known him since they were kids. He had pitch-black hair and angular features, almost too angular, like a model—hence his road name, Crow. Asking him to come in and talk had been a double-edged sword for Bullet, as Crow had a reputation for being a womanizer, and he’d always had a thing for Dixie. Both Dixie and their mother, Red, were waitressing tonight, which Crow was enjoying far too much.
“About that project I mentioned,” Bullet said to get his attention off his sister. He’d hoped Finlay would show up at some point, but either he’d pissed her off or she was sleeping off a hangover, because he hadn’t heard a peep from her. But that didn’t stop him from thinking about her every damn minute of the day.
“The kitchen, right?” He took a swig of his beer. “Dixie mentioned it a few weeks ago.” He glanced over his shoulder at Dixie again, then turned back to Bullet. “She said y’all are doing some renovations in the kitchen, but she wasn’t sure what you’d need. She also said not to do anything unless I spoke to her.”
“She’s busy,” Bullet said. He had agreed to let Dixie manage the renovations, hiring, the whole shebang, but after seeing Finlay measuring and moving so quickly, he wanted to make sure things got done without holding up her plans.
“Still, Bullet. You’re a force to be reckoned with, but that one?” He glanced at Dixie again and whistled. “I’m not dumb enough to go against the fire in her belly.”
Bullet flattened both hands on top of the bar and leaned across it, bringing them eye-to-eye. “Don’t think about her body parts, got it?”
