Page 15 of Bourbon and Proof

Just a fantasy.

Chapter 5

Ace

Lincoln isn’t a crier.He wears his emotions more proudly than any other Foxx, but rarely have I witnessed him cry. Which is why I’m almost slack-jawed as he rubs beneath his glasses with his pointer finger and thumb just as Hadley cracks a joke about not earning the title “best man,” because it was already taken by the groom.

“I’ve had the coveted role of best friend for a long time now.” She glances at me. “Ace is still salty over it.” The crowd lets out a laugh at my expense. The kicker is, she isn’t totally wrong. “And I had hoped, for a long time, that I might get ousted too.” She smiles at Faye, who shouts, “NEVER!”

Hadley laughs softly, but her eyes are glassy, getting ready to probably hit everyone’s heartstrings. “For all the hopeful romantics in the room, and I know there are quite a few of you, Faye and Linc have the kind of love that makes us hopeful. Aside from being sexy as hell”—hoots and hollers ring out—“you’re relationship goals. You push each other to do better.”She looks at Lark and Lily. “Earmuffs, loves.” They both cover their ears, their mouths stuffed with cake. “You support each other, whether it’s wielding weapons or swinging titty tassels. And fuck, you make love look like an adventure and not a boring destination. I love you both. I wish you timeless energy to spend together, endless time to grow together, and an ever-growing roster of delicious, fun, sweet, and kind moments for as long as you both shall live!”

A round of applause and cheers, accompanied by silverware tinging against glasses, vibrates around the room.

Dammit, that was a good speech.

Faye and Lincoln both get up to hug her, and I don’t miss the way she glances at me when they do.Pain in the ass.I can tell by the smirk on her lips that there’s more.

And sure enough, she’s not done. She kicks back the full glass of champagne and claps her hands in front of her before the music can pick back up. I’ve been lying to myself all day long, playing off that her hands on me last night were so easily forgotten. I’ve spent years keeping my distance, but for a while now, she’s been pushing closer.

“Now that the sweetness has been delivered, let’s bring on the salty. I’m going to need you and you,” Hadley shouts, pointing to Lincoln and Grant, and then she hops up onto the bar and perches her ass there as if it’s her throne. Both of my brothers are well past their usual limits, but they look obnoxiously happy with their wives draped in their arms while laughing at the brunette jester holding court. Beautiful and drunk.

“Where’s the other one?” Hadley rasps out, her finger tapping her painted red lip as she dramatically crosses her legs and flashes a pair of gold stilettos with red bottoms.

Fucking hell, it’s impossible to look away.

Taking another sip from the newest batch of bourbon we bottled, I enjoy the way this particular blend hits my palate—an underlying smokiness mixed with hints of cinnamon and sweetened caramels. We’ve had some favorably warm winters over the past few years, which had the barrel wood expanding more than contracting, depositing even more of the sugar from the toast and char that bathed the inside of the wood. It isn’t the kind of flavors that hit right away. That’s what people always misunderstand about bourbon. It evolves along your tongue, and the details are found only when you savor it. I like the discipline it takes to enjoy it.

I glance down at the length of chairs and tables spread throughout the distillery. My sister-in-law, Laney, is in charge of larger scale events we host here, and she’s outdone herself.

They had their lavish ceremony on the large lawn behind the distillery. It was a little more over the top than Grant and Laney’s wedding a year ago, but that isn’t a stretch, considering the bride and groom. Faye is a natural in the spotlight and Lincoln is a showman. My nieces managed to steal the show, walking down the aisle as Faye’s bridesmaids. And even I needed to look away when they each gave her a ring for her right hand, calling it their promise to her. My brother was the happiest I’ve ever seen him as he watched that exchange. It felt good to witness so much good after too many years of loss. I might be older, but I look up to both of my brothers for falling in love so bravely. I’m not built the same way.

This place truly looks like the perfect mixture of a distillery and a speakeasy—it has Lincoln and Faye written all over it.

Lincoln is brilliant at what he does. There isn’t a single person I trust more to make the perfect mash bill than him—even Griz. He surpassed just about anyone in this industry a long time ago, with creativity and understanding the complex combination of science and agriculture that it takes to makebourbon. This distillery is a part of him, just like performing on stage is a part of Faye.

“I see you back there, trying your hardest to ignore me, Ace.” The low thrum of the band keeps time with whatever song they had lined up, emphasizing Hadley's interruption. She rests her hand on her hip, and then holds out her drink for the bartender. “I don’t think many people know this, but Atticus Foxx is the reason my beloved Midnight Proof even exists,” she says with a more drawn-out blink of her eyes.Yeah, she’s three sheets to the wind.

I stand up, and with it come a few whistles and hollers from the back of the room, Lincoln’s being the most recognizable.

“See...” Hadley holds up her hand, cupping her cheek as she whisper-shouts. “The only thing you need to do to get that man moving is threaten him with a good time. Or an old story.”

Jesus Christ.The idea of her on top of a bar, telling old stories, has my adrenaline pumping and nerves ticking higher than usual. There are a few stories that need to remain quiet, and she’s a wild card. It’s the part of her that I try not to encourage, even though there’s a part of me that’s drawn to it. I’d never admit it, but she’s one of the few people who could actually get me to do something I don’t want to do.

Laney moves behind the bar and pulls out a few bottles, moving them next to where Hadley stands. They were instant friends, cackling together from the moment Laney was dropped in Fiasco. I wasn’t all that surprised. Hadley has a way of making people feel comfortable and welcomed. And she’s fun. Chaos with a quick tongue and sharp bite, but fun, nonetheless.

With two bottles snatched up and held between her fingers on one hand and a shaker in the other, Hadley makes a long, dramatic pour. Glancing at me first, almost like she’s asking permission to keep going, and I don’t give her much of a nodbefore she’s doing just that. “The first time I ever tried to make a real drink, I completely messed it up.”

Some scoffs, and then a “Doubt that!” sounds from the back, and it starts a round of laughs.

Hadley smiles and picks up two more bottles and gives them another long pour as she speaks over the chatter. “But it was for my best friend and, wow, did he do a good job at pretending it wasn’t awful.” Her eyes shift to mine. “Ace, however, was brutally honest with me.”

The memory is an easy one to recall.

“Are you going to put anything else in that?” I asked as I watched her pour what seemed like a full glass of gin. I must have startled her, because she jumped at the sound of my voice. It had been weeks since I was in the same room as her.

She stood a little taller as I walked closer. It was a habit I’d always noticed—like she was trying to ready herself for whatever was coming. Giving me a side-eye before she moved back to her curious choice for a mixer, she said, “As a matter of fact, I am.” She raised her chin, and then looked across the counter of the kitchen.

“What are you trying to make?” I asked as I glanced at the backyard. It was crowded with coworkers from the distillery. Nights like tonight made Griz’s small farmhouse seem even smaller than it already was. I had plans to build something much bigger; I just needed him to agree to it.

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