Page 93 of Bourbon and Secrets

Looking out the window, I watch Lincoln laugh as the owner of the trailer says something to him, and I can’t help but smile at the sight. His gloved hands grip around the bail string as it’s hoisted across the trailer hooked to his truck, forearms flexing and biceps straining as he lifts it.He’s been the perfect distraction.

As the trailer pulls out of his driveway and down our road, I open the screened-in door of the porch. The air is a pinch cooler than I was expecting, the earthy smell of hay mixed with the sweetness in the Fiasco air acting as a nice late morning pick-me-up.

My phone buzzes in my hand.

FOXX

You enjoying the show?

I look up and, sure enough, he’s looking right at me with his phone in hand. Jesus, this man is delicious. Like he’s trying to tempt me even more, he takes his glasses off and wipes his forehead before he puts them back on.

FAYE

You showing off?

FOXX

There’s this girl I’m trying to impress. You think it’s working?

FAYE

Maybe a little. Where’re Lark and Lily?

FOXX

Inside, traumatizing Kit with a sweater. Why?

Pushing my phone into my back pocket, I step a little closer to the porch stairs, angling my body so he can see me a bit better from his angle. This isn’t the usual attire I’d wear for a show, but the effect will still be the same. I unzip the hoodie I had thrown on after my shower and give him a perfect view, just like he’s been giving me. He’s far enough away that I can’t make out his facial expression, but I can see him hold his phone up to his ear just as mine vibrates in my pocket.

His voice on the other end is so low and deep, I swear I can feel the rumble through the line. “You’re entirely too comfortable showing me those perfect tits whenever I’m thinking about them.”

“I show plenty of people my tits. But you showed me yours, so...”

“Yeah, well, none of those people get to taste those beautiful things,” he hums out, and my body heats in response. “They don’t get to see your nipples go from delicate soft pink to hard and flushed darker with the simple flick of my tongue.” Moving his free arm above his head, he rests it on top of his backwards hat. “I’m going to need those for dessert later.”

Before I can say anything else, the roar of an old muscle car engine comes flying up the road. The speed at which it turns into Lincoln’s driveway almost makes the color less noticeable.

“Hadley,” he says, and I can see him shaking his head. “She’s not allowed to drive my kids anywhere. Now you know why.”

Chuckling at that, I don’t rush to cover myself up, the two sides of the hoodie moving over enough to cover what’s needed.

“I’ll see you later?” he asks, just as she throws her door open.

I can hear her voice through the phone. “You're hauling hay? What is this? Some kind of fantasy farmer draft I didn’t know about?” She follows his line of sight right toward me. I only hear the next few words before he hangs up. “Oh my gosh, you two are obsessed?—”

I bark out a laugh. She’s not wrong. I’ve quickly become obsessed with the way I feel when I’m around him. And Hadley has no problem calling him out on it.

Music from inside echoes out here. Biggie Smalls lays down his reality—it might have been all a dream, but the lyrics are too good to forget. And it has me smiling.

When I head back in, Maggie is wearing the same nostalgic smile as she struts down the stairs. A towel wrapped tightly around her hair, she smiles, and it’s wordless communication about what comes next. The music plays loudly over the speakers installed throughout the house and I meet her rhythm in the center of the hall.Save the Last Dance-style moves roll into the middle of the street “Top That” dance-off fromTeen Witch.We’re both laughing as she says, “Mom could not handle your rap phase. She never understood how Biggie or Tupac were just as iconic as Stevie or Carly.”

I laugh harder at the memory. “Oh, I remember. I don’t think she ever got as riled up about anything as much as she would when she talked about music or horses.”

Maggie smiles, lowering the volume as we both catch our breath. “Did you catch any good concerts while you traveled the world?”

“It wasn’t the world, by any stretch.”

“It was away from here. Places I’ve never been, never seen—anywhere outside Fiasco feels kind of like the world to me.”

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