Page 38 of Bourbon and Lies

Friends.Actual friends without gray lines that will inevitably get me in trouble, or worse, confuse me all over again.

I clear my throat, and his eyes rove down toward my mouth. “The people I thought were my friends, were acquaintances at best.”

“Colorado doesn’t sound much like home, then. No family or friends.”

“No, it doesn’t.” Fiasco is already more like home if friends are a way to gauge what a home should feel like. I may work with Ace and Lincoln, but Hadley is becoming a fast friend. And despite what he said last night, Grant might not want to be friends, but we are...something.

He turns his attention back to his plate and takes another forkful. With a mouthful, he says, “This is damn good, Laney.”

The compliment makes me sit taller. Baking felt good. Sharing it is even better.

“That’s the beauty of something new. You get to start fresh. Make new friends,” he says with a wink.

“Speaking from experience or a Snapple cap?

He laughs at that. “I did always have a thing for that peach iced tea.”

But that’s all he gives me. I know there’s more to it. He’s a thirty-something retired police officer who has an entirely different career now. He started over.

The next few minutes we sit there polishing our plates clean, not acknowledging the buzz that exists between us just under the surface.

“I fixed up the valve for the hot water. Just text me in case it happens again.” He shifts toward me. “I’ll never say no to you making me breakfast.” He smirks. “But it’s not necessary.”

“You should be learning by now that I do what I want.” I nod toward his empty plate that he walks around to the sink, and shrug. “Plus, I’ve started baking again.” As soon as I say it, I wish I hadn’t. My thoughts go back to the last thing I baked with my dad, right before I lost him. He always loved breakfast foods. Damn, I miss him. I’m not sure if it’s my tone or the look on my face, but now Grant’s eyeing me curiously.

Julep’s tags jingle, saving me from having to elaborate. She lifts her head, looking at the front door, listening for something.

“Thank you for the shower. And fixing the water for me,” I say. But before I can stand to leave, the front door bursts open with a flurry of laughs and arguing.

“I want to knock on her door!” Lark screeches in Lily’s face.

Lily hip-checks her into the front table.

Lincoln’s right behind them with his arms full of bags and towels. His Ray-Bans push his dark hair out of his face, and the turquoise swim trunks complement his summer tan. Those aren’t the only details that hint at them all planning on a trip to the water. The goggles dangling around Lily’s neck and the towel draped over Lark’s shoulders have me missing the ocean. And since we’re landlocked here, I lean closer to Grant. “Is there a pool here that no one told me about?”

But he doesn’t hear me with Julep still barking and the girls bickering. It’s gotten so loud in here that Grant touches my fingers where I haven’t realized I have a death-grip on my fork. When I loosen them, he takes it out of my hand for me. Our quiet exchange reminds me of how he was with me in the stables.You’re okay. Just breathe.

“Jules, that’s enough,” Grant says. Followed by, “Halt.”

“Girls, you don’t need to fight about it. Laney is obviously already here,” he says with a smirk and a glance at his brother, who’s crossed his arms and is glaring back.

“Laney—” Lark starts.

“I want to ask her,” Lily cuts off. “Will you come on a scavenger hunt with us?”

Lark finishes, “And swimming.”

I give a quick glance at both Lincoln and Grant before I say anything else, but they’re just waiting for my answer.

“There’s a tire swing. And Uncle Grant and Dad are the motors for our bumper boats,” Lily rattles off at lightning speed. “And we do a scavenger hunt. Uncle Grant, you have the cards ready?”

“All set, Lil.”

Lincoln pipes in, “So whaddya say, Laney? Want to spend the day with your fan club?”

“Laney, can we make flower crowns again? There are soooo many flowers we can pick on the way. And we brought extra towels and snacks.”

“C’mon, Laney. It’s the weekend,” Lincoln encourages with a smile.

---