Page 46 of Bourbon and Secrets

She moves her hand to my chest, my breath catches, cutting me off. Her fingers run along the seam of buttons as she says, “I never really knew my real dad. My mom had a lot of stand-in boyfriends. Maggie’s dad was in the picture for a while, but he never made me feel like he was glad I was around. Everyone who came after was interested in my mom, not in her insta-family.”

She watches my fingers brush and soothe along the inside of her wrist as she continues. “Your girls are lucky to know what it feels like to be loved by their dad,” she says softly. Hearing that from her warms my chest. The idea that my love for them is visible to a practical stranger has me feeling like I’m doing something right.

As I tip her chin up and push away a piece of blonde hair that fell in front of her eye, her smile fades. Our eyes stay locked for a moment just before she focuses on my lips. I don’t understand how we can so quickly go from anger and frustration to a sweet vulnerability to a heat that we’re both too damn smart to ignore. It’s reckless.

Yeah, Peach, I want to kiss you too.

I’ve wanted to kiss her again for longer than I’d care to think about.

“We both know this isn’t a good idea,” I tell her, but it doesn’t sound the least bit convincing.

“You’re right. It isn’t,” she says on an exhale. But her words die off when her fingers curl and she fists my shirt, pulling me into her. She holds on to me like the last thing she wants is to stop or let go.

I clear my throat, trying to remember what has me holding back. I’m coming up short at this proximity. So I give her the only truth that really matters. “I don’t trust you.”

Her breath hitches as my thumb runs along her jaw toward her mouth. “But you want to,” she says, her eyes never leaving my mouth. “Just like I want to hate you.”

I run my thumb along her lower lip, whispering, “But you don’t.”

She moves her head slowly right and then left, signaling no. As her tongue peeks out, wetting her bottom lip, despite all the probable reasons to stop this, the only thing I can think about is how she would feel wrapped around me. How with a few words and enough spitfire from her lips, I’m hard and so fucking ready for her to grant me the permission to have exactly what I want.

“So what are we going to do about it?”

Chapter 16

Faye

I’menveloped in the smell of him—the warmth of toasted oak and a tartness, like a bourbon-soaked cherry. He clouds my judgment, muddles memories, and practically erases all the reasons I had started to tally about why this shouldn’t go any further than what happened in that alley. The grip I have on his shirt is needy, the material fisted in my hands, and it’s like I can’t control it. The things that we’re healing from, hiding from, and equally trying to forget seem to converge when I’m with him. And he feels like a net or a shield. I shouldn’t feel safe with someone who’s seen the worst of me. The same man who ordered me to leave the only place I ever wanted to call home. But I do. I feel safe. And I don’t want to let go.

A shuffle of dirt along the concrete floor has our heads turning toward the main aisle of the stables. It merges with the sound of a horse kicking its stall. A beat after that, my phone buzzes in my back pocket. We’re being interrupted every which way.

“Linc? Faye?” Hadley calls out from the front of the stables.

When I try to break away, he holds on to me, still tight against his body, a hair's breadth from his mouth, his hard dick pressing into my belly. I’m practically buzzing with anticipation as he tilts his forehead onto mine.

“I’m going to need an answer to that eventually.”

So what are we going to do about it?

Just as I settle into the way he’s holding me, his body so close, he steps back. He runs his hand from the front of his hair to the back of his neck. It’s the only indication that he’s as affected by what just happened as I am. As his eyes meet mine, the smile he gives me is sinful. All that confidence and those dimples, I doubt many women say no to this man.

Swallowing roughly, I pull out my phone. “I need to check this.”

CORTEZ

How do you feel about a little side job, baby girl?

I don’t realize he’s looking over my shoulder when I unlock my phone.

“I didn’t think you were actually on a date with Cortez the other night.”

“It wasn’t a date,” I respond with a shake of my head. I won’t tell him what I was doing with Cortez at the bar. As far as Lincoln is concerned, my job is purely that of a burlesque dancer. “I thought that was clear when it was your fingers I ended up riding,” I say with a little sass as I type out a response.

FAYE

If you want me to do anything else for you, then I’m going to need a fuller picture here.

And before I can say anything more to Lincoln, he’s already halfway down the main aisle of the stables. I take a deep breath and push away the last few minutes, focusing on my job, my whole secret reason for being here. One that’s getting harder to keep close the more I’m pulled into Lincoln Foxx’s orbit.

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