Page 23 of Bourbon and Lies

I look down at the other end of the table to Ace. “You’ve got nothing to add?”

“I haven’t seen you get worked up like this in a while.”

I shove out of my seat and stand. “You enjoying the show?”

He smiles.Dick. But before I can say anything else, I catch a glimpse of how Laney stops her pacing and sits on the couch, like she’s being served a heaping dose of shit news. I’m not going to overthink why that bothers me, but I’m moving inside before it registers how much of a contradiction this is. Checking to see if she’s okay, even though I just interrogated her over pancakes.

She’s so wrapped up that she doesn’t see me. It’s why when I hold a rocks glass with two fingers of bourbon in front of her, she sucks in an audible breath.

As she takes the glass from my hands, my fingers brush hers, and I watch as she swallows down the emotions that her conversation was causing.

She mumbles, “I really loved that apartment.” And then, clearing her throat, thinking of only one other thing, she adds, “The things from my storage unit. Are they…”

“Thanks again,” she says in a lighter tone. “Appreciate the heads up.”

Hanging up, she pushes the phone into my back pocket before taking another sip of the bourbon. I wait as her throat works it down until the glass is empty.

She holds up the glass. “Thanks for this.”

I don’t know what else to say to her, so I keep it simple with a nod and a tight-lipped smile. The annoyance from dinner is gone, but my curiosity is spiked as I hold contact with those blue eyes. Staring any more at her isn’t going to do me any favors, so I push off the arm of the couch I was leaning on just as Hadley and Ace come inside.

“You trying to scare off my new friend, Grant?”

“A little quick to be adding someone to your friend list, Hads.”

She stops next to me with a leveling glare, and I already know I’m going to hear it. “Just as fast as you’ve been to add her to your suspect list,” she whispers.

I ignore her, but everytime I try to move back outside, more of my family filters in. I keep my mouth shut as I hear Ace talking with her about what time she should get to the distillery on Sunday. I do my best to ignore the way my nieces vie for Laney’s attention. When she finally says her thank yous andgoodbyes, she turns to me and says, “Don’t worry, Grant, I’ll stay out of your way.”

Don’t. It was the first word that came to mind when she said it. But I kept that to myself.

Ace is staring at me when I finally look back from watching her leave. I clear my throat. “You planning on telling me why a girl, who is clearly hiding something, who you had a sleepover with last week, is just welcome now to Friday night dinner with us?” I don’t let him answer just yet. “And is living in our guest house asmyneighbor?”

My brother gives me a side-eye without a lick of amusement on his face. “Aren’t you the one who invited her to dinner?”

“That was the girls.” I rub the back of my neck.

“Grant, this isn’t me trying to be rude, but it’s really none of your business what she’s doing here. We have an agreement, baby brother. I don’t overshare. You don’t ask too many questions. It’s always worked.” He’s focused on his phone when he says, “She’s here. Deal with it. You were a bit of an asshole to her at dinner, which was unnecessary.”

I know when someone is lying. We’re not Fiasco’s welcoming committee. If Fiasco had one, at least. Most locals barely tolerate the tourists. Never mind unexpected freeloaders with a pretty face and a tight ass. She had every single tell there was with her vague answers followed up by nervous rambling. She cleared her throat more times than I could count. She was uncomfortable, and she’s somehow folded herself into our lives without any questions. “Since when are you okay with having women you slept with stick around like this?”

I’m pissed. Ace knows it. I’ve always hated how he makes big decisions about all our lives.

He flicks his eyes up and gives me that fucking parent glare. The one he’s always done when I’m being an asshole. For the record, he’s always the asshole and there’s nobody there to glareat him. Griz always seems to egg it on. “Like I said, not your business.” He finally puts the damn phone down. “Why are you pushing? Linc is usually the one with too many questions.”

He’s right. This isn’t me to be so interested in someone. I’m frustrated by my attraction to this woman.

“She’s harmless.”

We both know there is no such thing as a harmless woman. Not one who spoke the way she did, her Yankee accent evident. Or the way she’s so effortlessly charming and how it made my family instantly like her. Harmless doesn’t look like that. Harmless doesn’t linger like this.

I pick up pieces of white and purple flowers that must have fallen from her hair and twirl them in my fingers. “You know she was making flower crowns with Lark and Lily today?”

He laughs. “That’s…creative.”

“Unsupervised.”

He looks at me like what I’m saying is boring him. “If Lincoln didn’t have a problem with it, then I’m not sure why you do.”

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