Page 123 of Whiskey Chase
Scarlett
Iwas ten miles down the road hurtling toward Annapolis as fast as my pick-up would go when Cassidy called.
“Little snafu,” she said.
“What?” I asked, putting down the sandwich I’d been inhaling as I drove.
“Devlin isn’t in Annapolis.”
“Well where in the hell is he?” I demanded.
“He’s at Granny Louisa’s house.”
“The hell you say! He came back, and he didn’t evencallme?”
I threw the phone on the passenger seat and executed a U-turn that put the ass end of my truck in the ditch. Gravel and mud flew, and then I was flooring it back to Bootleg.
“That son of a bitch came back without a word!” I fumed. I was gonna kill him and then tell him that I loved him so much it hurt to take a breath without him in my life. But definitely kill him first.
Devlin McCallister was going to feel the Bodine Wrath.
I fired myself up for my second fight of the night and vowed that no one would break this one up until I was declared the winner.
Judging from the cars in my driveway, the bonfire was still in full swing. I bypassed my house and pulled into Granny Louisa’s driveway behind Devlin’s SUV. There would be no escape for him.
I yanked the emergency brake and turned off the truck, leaving the keys in the ignition. Devlin had come back and hadn’t called or texted or showed up naked and begging on my front porch? He was a dead man.
I went around back because that’s how sneak attacks worked. I was no Johanna ringing the doorbell proper as can be. Oh, hell no. I fought dirty and played mean. I kicked off my heels and jogged up the deck stairs that I’d refinished just a few weeks earlier. At least I didn’t have to worry about splinters before extracting my justice all over his ball sack.
The lights were on, and I deducted even more points from Devlin after noticing he wasn’t on the deck pining over me. He deserved a kick in the balls. Dang it. I should have left my shoes on. They were pointy.
I had a full head of steam behind me that nearly carried me through the screen door before I realized it wasn’t Devlin sitting in the wingback chair with his feet up. It was Granny Louisa.
“Thank you again for riding to my rescue, Devlin honey,” she said.
I glared imaginary lasers at the man who adjusted her footstool. He didn’t look emaciated and depressed. He just looked stupidly handsome.
Maybe if I messed his face up a little, he wouldn’t be so beautiful?
“I’m glad you called, Gran. But I can’t stay. Mom’s driving in tomorrow morning to help you and Estelle.”
Estelle, a svelte black woman with silver hair and a hallelujah voice, poked her head into the living room. She held a cast iron fry pan in her hand. “I don’t know why y’all are treating us like we’re two old ladies,” she announced.
“Well, one of you fell out of a gondola in Venice and broke her foot,” Devlin said dryly.
“Hush up, Estelle,” Granny Louisa said, waving at her girlfriend. Devlin appeared to miss the wink she sent her partner, but I caught it just fine. Granny Louisa was up to no good.
“Now, boy of mine, why are you in such a rush to go back to something that makes you so miserable?”
My ass perked up at that. Miserable was good. Very good.
“I’m not miserable,” that asshole said. “I have a responsibility—”
Granny Louisa interrupted him by making a prolonged fart noise with her mouth. “Do you love the girl or not?”
My feet were frozen to the spot. I couldn’t have moved if I tried.
Devlin, the potential asshole, flopped down into the chair across from Granny Louisa. His broody expression didn’t give me the words I longed to hear.
