Page 89 of Whiskey Chase
He grinned at me from behind his sunglasses as he drove. And my heart gave that awkward flip-flop. He seemed less mad at me now, and I was grateful for it. I didn’t like keeping secrets, but this was one mess I wasn’t eager to drag anyone into.
“It’s a pretty fancy barbeque,” he said.
“What if I don’t fit in?” I asked.
“Is that fear I hear? Who are you, and what have you done with Scarlett?” he teased.
“I’m not scared,” I said, horrified at the accusation. “I’ve just never gone to a political function with my politician boyfriend before.”
“I think you’ll be just fine. Keep in mind that they’re all people too.”
“Yeah,” I scoffed. “People with trust funds and ivy league degrees. I’m Scarlett Bodine from Bootleg, West Virginia. My roots include an alcoholic daddy and a bootleggin’ great-granddad.”
I laughed. “Everyone’s got their dirty little secrets. They’re just not as up front about them as you are.”
“Will Johanna be there?” I asked.
The smile evaporated from his face, and I wished I hadn’t asked the question.
“She won’t be, but people who know her—knew us—will be.”
“Do you want me to pretend we’re not having sex?” I offered. If he said yes, I was going to forget that I was trying to make it up to him for avoiding him.
“Scarlett, I don’t want you to pretend anything ever with me. Least of all that everything’s okay when it clearly isn’t.”
Ah, shit. A direct hit.
“I know I owe you an explanation.”
“Yeah, you do.”
“And I know I owe you an apology.”
“Yep.”
“But I can’t give you an explanation because I don’t want to drag you into family business. And I’m no damn good at apologies.”
“So I’m just supposed to leave it at that?” Devlin didn’t look happy.
“No! You’re supposed to let me make it up to you.”
He muttered something under his breath about the “fucking Bodines,” and we rode the rest of the way to Annapolis in silence.
I’d been here years ago in junior high for a field trip. But back then, I’d been more interested in flirting with boys and giggling with Cassidy to pay much attention.
“This is the cutest town I’ve ever seen,” I said, peering through the window at the red brick buildings and narrow streets. “It’s so neat and tidy.”
“There’s the marina,” Devlin said, pointing through the windshield. Sailboats and fishing boats bobbed tied up to docks and mooring balls. A huge wooden schooner cruised out into open water. “And down this street is where I used to live. The house went up for sale as part of the divorce settlement.”
“Where do you live now?” I asked, craning my neck to get a better look at his past.
“My family has a condo no one was using. It’s mine to use until I figure out what I’m doing next.”
I didn’t say anything, but I linked my fingers through his. I wondered if he noticed how he tensed up when he talked about the unknown of the future.
“So where is this shindig tonight?” I asked, changing the subject.
Fifteen minutes later, we’d left the city limits behind us and turned onto a paved private drive that snaked its way toward the bay. I whistled when the house came into view. It was a sprawling New England Colonial with dark, faded cedar shingles and trim. The dizzying rooflines made the home look even grander. There was a fountain in the center of the circular driveway. And between the house and the glint of the bay stood a huge white tent billowing in the breeze. Devlin pulled his SUV up to the front porch, and I eyed the long line of brand new cars that looked like they were on a luxury car lot.
