Page 56 of Whiskey Chase
“I’m not going to hurt Scarlett!”
“This is just a little reminder of what’ll happen if you do,” Bowie said, still a little winded.
“You don’t need to do this,” I tried again. We were getting closer and closer to the end of the dock.
“Pretty sure we do,” Jameson insisted.
“I’ll press charges!”
“Good luck with that,” Jameson smirked.
“The sheriff is a big fan of our little Scarlett. He’s not gonna take a likin’ to some guy whose just tryin’ to get in her pants,” Bowie explained.
“I’m not just trying to get in her pants!”
“Oh, hey, Judge Carwell. Mornin’ Carolina Rae,” Bowie said, raising his free hand to a couple in a fishing boat.
“Mornin’ Bodines,” Judge Carwell called. “He courtin’ Scarlett?”
“What the hell kind of town is this?” I hissed.
Jonah shrugged and grinned. “Bootleg, man.”
“Yes, sir. We’re just remindin’ him to treat her right,” Gibson said.
“Carry on, boys.”
The judge motored on, not even staying to watch the four Bodines toss my body into the lake.
21
Scarlett
Istepped back to admire my handiwork and swiped a hand over my forehead. The refinished deck glistened under its new coat of varnish. Just in time for summer, Devlin had a nice new deck for our quiet mornings together.
We could move some of the weekend bonfires here, too, I thought. On a practical level, he had more bathrooms than I did and a bigger fridge for beer. I could string up some lights in the trees, put in a fire pit, and maybe add a paver walkway, something wide and level for Granny Louisa and Estelle to enjoy when they came home.
I had a postcard from them in Madrid. I hoped that when I was that age I’d be doing exactly what they were. Living. Really living.
I’d wrap up my projects here by the weekend. The house gleamed like new inside and out with the improvements I’d talked Devlin into. I gave myself a pat on the back.
I liked working near Devlin. I liked looking up from my sawhorses or disgusting pile of ripped up English rose carpeting and seeing him watching me. I liked our long, naked lunch breaks—when Jonah wasn’t around. And Ireallyliked how Devlin stood a little taller these days, smiled a little more... and swatted my ass whenever I walked past him.
I skipped down the deck stairs and gathered up my supplies, stashing them in the back of my truck. Whistling, I ducked into the first level. Devlin had finally gotten over his ridiculous, urban-dweller notion of locking every door in the house. I jogged upstairs and into the kitchen.
He’d come here an anxiety-ridden shell of the man he used to be. And now? Now, I liked to think I was seeing the real Devlin McCallister. Not some buttoned-up, white-washed, politically correct version but the real man with his very real desires.
I found him in the living room scowling at his laptop with his feet on the coffee table. Stacks of mail and paperwork were strewn about the floor.
“What’s all this?” I asked.
“Playing a little catch up.” He pointed to a tall stack of papers by his right foot. “Bills introduced by the legislature this year that didn’t pass but that might be reintroduced next session. That stack is ribbon-cutting, fundraiser, and reception invitations. And these are some cases my law firm is working on. Thought I’d do a little digging into some precedents.”
“Do youwantto be doing all this crap?” I asked, eyeing the stacks skeptically.
Devlin dumped his laptop on the couch next to him and pulled me down into his lap. “I’d much rather be distracted by you.”
“I was hoping you’d say that,” I said, making myself comfortable in his lap. He was already hard. And I loved knowing that I had that effect on him. I threaded my fingers through his hair. It was getting long enough that it curled at the back of his neck. His beard was full but neatly trimmed. He’d kept up with his running and his workouts, and I could see the difference in his body. Lean muscle turned out to be quite the turn on for me.
