Page 62 of Bourbon and Lies

Grant

The sweatfrom the water I’m chugging feels just as good on my hands as it does going down my throat. I nod at Marcus, who pats my back as I walk down the side of the stage. I smile at a few people who say, “That was wonderful,” and, “You and Griz on stage like that brings back old memories.” Griz has always been a bit of a show-off. So when he taught his only willing grandson how to play the harmonica, you bet I’d end up on stage with him at whatever fair was happening in the county. It makes him happy, so I do it. Otherwise, I could go without every set of eyes in our entire town staring at me. Except for one. The second I looked, I found her eyes on mine. Andfuck, I couldn’t look away. No, that set of eyes made me want to give my best performance.

I couldn’t look at her earlier. I’ve been so caught up in my head about forgetting Fiona’s birthday and the promises I made to Del that I didn’t know how she fits in. Losing Fiona and all that guilt for not being there, not catching who had done that toher myself, I’ve been stewing in it for years. It’s been easier just to shut everyone out. Until her.

When she called me cowboy today, I couldn’t figure out how to tell her that I’m trying to figure out what the fuck I’m doing. That I’m still punishing myself for something she knows nothing about and she’s unfairly getting the repercussions from it. I don’t know her whole story, but I know she’s been through enough.

Watching her laugh with Hadley shakes me. Fuck, that woman laughs with her whole body. She doesn’t half-ass anything. And here I am, fucked up over the fact that as much as I want her, I don’t know how to have her. How do I keep a promise to remember someone and still move on? And in my gut, I’m scared I won’t be able to keep Laney safe, especially from the way that death seems to linger near me.

I drag my palm along the nape of my neck, but it’s an actual slap on the back that knocks me out of my head. Lincoln slides a beer in front of me. “You look like you’re thinking about someone a little too hard over here, brother.”

I smirk, because he’s not wrong. And it wouldn’t be worth denying it. He can be a dick, but he knows exactly who I’m looking at. He just wants me to fess up.

“Nice set up there with Griz. I didn’t realize you still had it in you to play in front of a crowd. The girls are going to be so mad they missed it.”

I hum in response as I watch Laney. She’s swaying her hips against Hadley, and I’m not going to lie, it’s so damn hot. Around the edges of the dance floor, between picnic tables and high-tops, there are plenty of people watching the both of them.

Lincoln follows my line of sight and then hollers, “Yeah, Hads!” He laughs. “Jesus, they look too fucking good.” He glances around the green. “There better not be any kids still up watching this.”

I lean on the high-top table, taking in the crowd, rowdy and peppered with plenty of faces I know. The band switches to a cover band, and with it, the dance floor transitions from old-timers and couples to twenty-somethings and college kids home for the summer.

Laney Young is beautiful, and not just the natural kind of beauty either. I’ve seen her bare faced in the morning and with nothing more than a t-shirt on, and I felt that beauty all over my body. But then she amplifies all of it when she fixes herself up in ways I don’t know the first thing about. And it’s so fucking sexy. Her dark lashes look longer and the make-up she has around her eyes makes the blue seem bolder. She’s put together and damn near perfect. And while this version of her has everyone’s attention, I’m craving the one who talks to me without a filter. The one who drank too much bourbon and stared too long at my mouth. The one who listened to me come from the other side of my screen door, and then had the confidence to tease about it. Hell, I’m sporting a semi-hard dick just thinking about her screaming lyrics at the top of her lungs in my backyard, butt naked in a horse trough, giving zero fucks while eating an overzealous amount of candy.

I fixate on the way her strawberry-tinted hair moves behind her as she rolls her hips. I want to keep it in place, loop it around my fist, and tug on it just enough to see if she’ll give up some of that controlled exterior. The way she perfectly paints her lips that shade of red makes me want to see it smeared onto her chin. I want to messy her up and then lick her clean.

I let my eyes rove down her legs. The black cowboy boots are a nice touch. I must be a complete narcissist or slightly more obsessed than I’ll admit, hoping that she wore them just for me. I amhercowboy, after all.

A few whistles come from the other side of the dance floor. And it gets a bit more crowded and a lot rowdier as the band hits the chorus of AC/DC’s “Shook Me All Night Long.”

“You know I forgot you played that harmonica,” Del says as he leans next to me.

“Del, how you been, man?” Lincoln says as he shakes his hand.

“No complaints. How are those girls of yours?”

“Growing like weeds. It’s starting to amplify how old I am. But they’re incredible.” My brother is nothing if not animated when he talks about how much Lark and Lily run his universe. “Del, can I grab you a refill?”

He holds up his hand. “I’m good.”

“You want another piss beer, or do you want me to convince Hugo to give a sample of his watermelon moonshine?” Lincoln says to me as he wiggles his eyebrows.

“I’ll take the piss.”

“Lame,” he says, walking toward Hugo’s table.

A few beats pass before Del says, “You were right.”

“About which part?”

“Your girl is a nobody.” I bristle at how he says, “my girl.” It makes me feel disloyal somehow, like I should have told him what was going on by now. I’m fucking up here, left and right. “It’s not that she’s been living a quiet life somewhere. I mean, she has no digital footprint. There was no Laney, Elaine, or Eleanor Young born in Colorado in the last fifty years. Your girl right there”—he nods toward the mass of bodies moving with the bass and drums—“is lying about either who she is or where she’s from.”

It wasn’t hard to put those pieces together. What I’m anxious about is what’s still chasing her.

“Aside from that poker game, she doesn’t seem like much of a criminal.”

He snorts a laugh. “WITSEC?” he asks. I didn’t mention the U.S. Marshall to him, but he was a cop for long enough. He knew thatnotfinding information could mean something too. “If that’s the case, then you’re not going to get any answers digging around unless you get them from her.”

I already knew that.“What about a tie to New York?”

---