Page 16 of Driving Whiskey Wild
“Penny…”
“Take it.” Penny handed her the box and hugged her. “I wasn’t there when you got all googly-eyed over Aaron, and I’m glad you let me be a part of this first date.”
Tears welled in Finlay’s eyes. She glanced at the laptop, and Isabel blew her a kiss. Her heart was so full, she couldn’t imagine how the night could get any better. “Thank you both so much. I know I’ll love it, as long as it’s not made for a sex romp.”
“No promises there,” Isabel said with a smile.
She untied the ribbon and opened the top, gasping at the pretty rose-beige material. “You guys, this is gorgeous.”
She lifted the dress out of the box and moved across the room to hold it up in front of the mirror, but she couldn’t wait, and turned her back to the girls. She removed her bra, then slipped the beautiful dress over her head. Soft cotton dusted the tops of her feet.
“Let me.” Penny gathered Finlay’s hair over one shoulder and tied the halter.
Finlay turned around, overwhelmed by how well they knew her. She stood before the mirror unable to believe how pretty she looked, how perfect the dress fit. The halter-style top was trimmed with lace, and a crocheted pattern covered her midriff. The long skirt had a thick crocheted stripe above her knees, giving it just the right amount of sexiness without looking like she was trying too hard.
“Finny,” Isabel said, “you look gorgeous. Bullet, and every other man out there, is going to fall at your feet.”
Finlay looked at Penny and said, “I thought you were really trying to get me to wear something I never would.”
“Nope. I love my big sister just the way she is. But when you’re ready for Tramp City, we’re your girls.” Penny hugged her. “I’m glad you’re back home again. You look lovely, and very fuckable.”
“Bullet will appreciate both,” Isabel chimed in. “Let’s accessorize!”
For the next twenty minutes, Finlay modeled sandals, earrings, bangles, and necklaces, her nervousness increasing with each rendition. She finally settled on a pair of cute beige sandals, rose-gold dangling earrings, and a simple Alex and Ani red kindred cord heart bracelet. With the outfit accessorized, Penny left to meet friends for dinner and Finlay ended the video call with Isabel and was left alone to pick apart her thoughts. She had gone on a few dates over the past couple of years, but they were typical guys and typical dates. She had been nervous before them, as anyone would be on a first date, but those guys hadn’t picked her up when she’d been drinking and driven her home. They hadn’t seen her uncorked, singing silly songs like a ridiculous teenager and screaming at the sight of a dog. They hadn’t carried her through the very living room in which she now sat, nervously fidgeting with the soft fabric of her dress. She definitely hadn’t wanted to see them naked or touch their bare chests, and not one of them made her knees weak with a single kiss.
Geez, Bullet had really gotten a show from her the other night. Why on earth did he still want to go out with her after all that?
She rose to her feet and paced. It was seven thirty on the dot, and with every tick of the clock, her heartbeat quickened. She didn’t even know where he was taking her. What if she was overdressed? Did Bullet ever wear anything other than jeans and T-shirts? Maybe she should wear jeans. She went into the bedroom, but the thought of wearing jeans made her even more nervous. Penny was the jeans girl in their family. Like their mother, Finlay had always preferred more feminine outfits. Some girls felt sexier when they showed everything in tight jeans, but Finlay felt prettiest in dresses, and this dress made her feel extra sexy, because of the crocheted midriff. Nope, jeans would not make her any less nervous.
She headed back toward the living room, trying to imagine what Bullet had planned for their date, but every time his face appeared in her mind it was accompanied by pieces of their conversation. Don’t fight it, lollipop. Tonight’s our night.
She stopped cold in the middle of the living room. What was he expecting to happen tonight? Had she given him the impression they would sleep together? What if their kisses, which had felt magical and special to her, were just kisses to him? He must have a lot of experience with women. Maybe he kisses them all like that.
The thought made her feel a little queasy.
She walked out onto the deck and crossed her arms against the cool September air, gazing out at the wooded expanse buffering her backyard from outsiders. She didn’t want to be just another kiss for anyone, but did she want to be intimate with Bullet? A quick and electric pulse radiated through her.
Placing her hands on the railing, she inhaled the salty harbor air and closed her eyes, enjoying the fluttering of her heart at the thought of going out with Bullet. She’d forgotten how exciting it was to want to go out with someone. Then again, her nerves were probably equally as heightened by not knowing what going out with Bullet really meant.
She was surprised to see that it was nearing eight o’clock when she finally went inside, and she wondered if she was being stood up. She checked her phone, but she didn’t have any messages. Assuming Bullet got held up at the bar, she tried to cut him a little slack. Not everyone was as punctual as she was. She sat on the couch, paced the floor, then sat down again, all the while watching the clock. Her insides hurt a little more with each quarter hour that passed.
I definitely enjoy pushing your buttons, and I’m pretty much an asshole.
Her thoughts went from forgiving to irritation.
As it neared eight thirty a warning voice sounded in her head. Her face grew hot with humiliation. If he thought this was acceptable, he was dead wrong, and if he’d done it to piss her off, then he’d succeeded. She went outside again, needing cool air to calm herself down. She didn’t want to believe he would stand her up. Not after the glorious connection they’d had when they’d kissed and the sweet things he’d said to her when Dixie had left the room. I’d never in a million years try to hurt you.
She went back inside and turned on the television to distract herself, only to turn it off a few minutes later and stare at her phone, debating calling him. If he had purposefully stood her up, it would be embarrassing to chase after him. Plus, she’d likely give him a harsh piece of her mind, and she would not want to finish the job at the bar, which wouldn’t be fair to Dixie and the rest of their family. But was this fair to her? To get all dressed up and then be forgotten?
The idea that he would purposefully do that to her didn’t sit right. It didn’t fit what she knew of him. It didn’t fit what her heart felt, and her heart had never led her astray before. If something happened to him, wouldn’t he have called if he could?
A cold knot formed in the pit of her stomach. He and Dixie seemed to think their outlook on protecting the town was normal, but to Finlay it was unfathomable. Her father had been a tough man. He’d worked long, hard hours, and he’d never put up with disrespect from others, but she couldn’t imagine him actually fighting with anyone. Could the things Bullet and Dixie had told her about turf wars really happen anywhere other than in novels? Were there territories and turfs all over the world secretly protected by groups like the Dark Knights? Did she want to be involved with Bullet if it were true? If there had been an incident, wouldn’t it be on the news?
What if this was typical for him because of the club?
Could she deal with this much worry on an ongoing basis?
She flipped on the local television station, crossed her arms, her legs bouncing nervously. Fifteen minutes later, after hearing about the upcoming fall festival and other community news, she turned it off.
This was ridiculous. Clutching her phone, she forced herself to call Bullet. It rang endlessly, and when his voicemail kicked in, his deep, raspy voice brought rise to goose bumps, despite that he may very well have stood her up. She’d leave a quick message, hoping she didn’t sound as confused, irritated, and hurt as she felt.
Hi, Bullet; it’s Finlay…Now she felt stupid. What was she supposed to say? Remember we had a date? I hope you’re okay? Call me? If he’d stood her up, she didn’t want him to call, and if he hadn’t…
Her heart hurt with the idea that something could have happened to him. She found her voice, and the truth came out. “I was worried that something happened, or maybe you changed your mind.” That was all she could manage, because if he’d changed his mind and not called, then he was a big jerk.
She debated calling her sister, or Isabel, but they’d been so happy for her, she’d only feel worse talking to them. Maybe she should call Dixie. How embarrassing would that be?
Ugh! She’d never been in this situation before. What did women do when faced with this? It felt wrong, and it made her angry. No man should have the power to make her wonder if he thought she wasn’t worth a phone call. She set her phone on the coffee table, kicked off her sandals, and curled up on the couch. But curling up on the couch had never been her way of dealing with a hard situation. Sixty seconds later she was in the kitchen, loading her counter up with ingredients and flipping through her favorite recipes. She put on an apron like a boxer donned his gloves, her mind instantly turning to familiar, safe territory, which came in measurements and degrees, not black leather biker boots.
