Page 127 of Whiskey Chase
“We have dinner plans,” I reminded her.
“Oh, those mysterious dinner plans you’ve been reminding me about?” She winked. “I’ll make sure I’m showered, sexy, and ready for action.”
I was ready for action now. I climbed out of bed, my cock demanding her full attention.
“Uh-uh. You keep that sex stick away from me. I gotta go.” Scarlett grabbed a bra and tank top and half-ran to the bathroom, slamming the door in my face. “Nice try, honey,” she called through the door.
Plan A—a sweet, romantic, quiet, naked gesture—was officially defunct.
Undeterred, I grabbed a pair of gym shorts and ambled down the hall toward the kitchen. The house was the perfect mingling of McCallister and Bodine.
There were windows everywhere they could be squeezed into the design. The entire back of the house was one panoramic lake view. There was a study off the front door for me, and Scarlett used the formal room on the opposite side as her disaster of an office.
We had five bedrooms perfect for overnight visits with my parents and our future “pack of kids.” The living space and kitchen were one big room, which made entertaining easy. The huge mountain stone fireplace in the living room gave Scarlett the excuse she was looking for to host monthly “indoor bonfires” in the middle of winter.
I opened the fridge and collected the ingredients for my protein shake. My phone buzzed on the counter.
Cassidy Bodine: Are y’all engaged yet???
I shook my head. It was going to be a long-ass day if I couldn’t pin down my fireball girlfriend and put a ring on her little finger. All of Bootleg Springs was waiting for the signal and then the town would descend upon our backyard for the biggest, craziest bonfire Scarlett had ever seen.
I heard her jogging down the hallway, bare feet slapping on the hardwood.
“I’m late, honey. Otherwise I’d be demanding my presents,” she said, rising on tip toe to kiss my cheek.
I grabbed a handful of her shirt and pulled her in and up for a birthday-worthy kiss.
Scarlett melted into me, but before I could revive Plan A, she was wriggling out of my grasp. “Nice try, hot stuff! To be continued!”
She disappeared in the direction of the garage and left me with my protein shake and another unsatisfied hard-on.
* * *
I heftedthe canoe over my head, droplets of water raining down on me, and headed for the lake. Scarlett and I had been through it all in the last four years. Her brothers’ weddings, endless nights of making love, fiery arguments, soft conversations under the stars, lazy Sundays on the lake, not to mention the investigation that we’d all finally moved on from.
Scarlett Bodine had saved me from a life I’d thought I wanted.
She’d picked me back up at my lowest point, and then two years ago, she’d stood next to me, trembling with pride in her cowboy boots when I was sworn in as Olamette County Judge. She’d campaigned so hard for me I think most folks were afraid not to vote for me. And so Ol’ Judge Carwell was able to retire, and I stepped into my own courtroom.
It wasn’t Washington, D.C.—my courtroom had six deer heads mounted on the wall above the bench—but I was happier than I’d ever been. Happier than I would have been. And my parents were vaguely less disappointed now that they had a judge in the family. They just tended to leave out the “county” part of my title. And they’d warmed up to Scarlett, which I’d had no doubt would happen. The woman could thaw the coldest of hearts with her sweet smiles and honeyed drawl. And if that didn’t work, she bull-headedly wore down every rough edge she encountered until the other party couldn’t remember a time when they didn’t love Scarlett.
I eased the canoe down onto the sandy beach and shoved it into the shallow lake water. Lashing the lead ropes to the dock, I tossed the quilts and the picnic basket into the belly of the canoe.
The beer cooler came next. I patted my front pocket, reassuring myself that the ring was still in its place.
“Mornin’.” Jonah, Scarlett’s half-brother sauntered across the lawn, his hands in the pockets of his athletic shorts. “Thought I’d drop by and see if you needed any help setting up for the bonfire tonight,” he said.
My phone rang, and I picked it up off the dock.
“Hey, Scarlett.”
“I’m grabbing lunch with the girls,” she chirped.
“Oh. Uh.” I eyed the engagement canoe. “Okay. When will you back?”
“I’m not real sure. Just called to tell you I miss you, and I’ll see you tonight for dinner.”
Well, hell. Plan B had just taken a steaming crap. “Try to be back by five,” I said, hoping I sounded casual and not disappointed and panicked.
