Page 25 of Moonshine Kiss
“Never.”
We rode in companionable silence, listening to the radio.
When the lights of Bootleg appeared ahead, I drummed my fingers on the steering wheel. “Still early. Want to get a drink at The Lookout?”
She glanced my way, looked at the clock. “Sure. Why not?”
The Lookout was a bar that sat high up on an outcropping of rocks that overlooked part of town and the lake. It got its name from its storied and exaggerated history as a lookout for bootleggers running their ‘shine across the lake into Maryland.
Now, it served as the center of our town. A place for neighbors to catch up, games to be watched, dances danced, and fights fought.
I pulled into the gravel lot, already overflowing with cars, and together we walked toward the front door. Cassidy stumbled in her impractical heels, and I caught her elbow. “Bootleg’s not gonna know what to do with you dressed like that,” I told her.
Usually she was in uniform. Who knew khaki and badges could be so sexy? Her off-duty uniform was jeans. And if I were being real honest, I couldn’t tell you which Cassidy I preferred. The stern deputy. The casual girl-next-door. Or this new creature in a slim-fitting dress and stilettos that Jayme would approve of.
Her eyes were smokier tonight, lips painted. I wanted to wipe the lipstick off with my mouth. I wanted her to mark me with it.Face. Neck. Chest. Cock.
I’d given up trying to stop the fantasies a long time ago.
And damn it. There it was. The erection that had been lurking since I sat down at the table next to hers.
I followed her into the bar, taking in the familiar sights and sounds. Nicolette was tending bar in one of her snarky t-shirts. Tonight’s readY’all Need Jesus and Whiskey. The lights were dim. The tables were full. And there was a band on the stage doing their best to butcher Lynyrd Skynyrd.
Our neighbors and friends crowded around the bar watching the Steelers gain ground on the field.
I pointed Cassidy in the direction of the tables skirting the dance floor and mimed getting a drink. She gave me a thumbs-up and headed off to find us seats. I ordered two drafts of Cass’s favorite.
“You’re lookin’ spiffy tonight, Bowie,” Nicolette pointed out.
“Somebody had a date,” Opal Bodine, no relation, piped up. She was wearing a Cockspurs sweatshirt and nursing some moonshine concoction in a jar.
“Guessin’ it didn’t go well?” Nicolette asked, plopping the beers down in front of me.
I looked over to where Cassidy waved from a table in the corner. “It didn’t go too bad,” I told them.
Weaving my way through the crowd, I found Cassidy sharing a table with Millie Waggle, Nash Larabee, and—damn it all to hell—Amos Sheridan, Cassidy’s ex four or five times over.
Cassidy had taken the chair next to Amos, and they were arguing about Zac Brown’s new album. I pulled out the chair next to Millie and slid Cass’s beer across the table. “Evenin’, all.”
“Hey, Bow. You two are looking fancy tonight,” Millie said. Millie was my sister and Cassidy’s age and dressed like a 70-year-old Sunday school teacher. She also baked like an angel and did the bookkeeping for the Bootleg Springs Spa.
“Yeah, y’all finally go on a date?” Nash asked.
The table erupted in laughter except for me and Cass.
“Did you know you two were voted least likely to hook up in the last town newsletter?” Amos pointed out. “See, Cassidy here is never gettin’ over me.”
Cassidy elbowed him in the gut with a familiarity I didn’t much care for. I hated it when she dated him. Hated it when she dated anybody, but especially Amos.
“What’s your name again?” Cassidy asked him sweetly batting her eyelashes. Everyone laughed again.
“What’s this about the newsletter?” I pressed.
Millie giggled. “Oh, it’s just silliness. Every week there’s a poll. You two were voted least likely to date. Y’all beat out Misty Lynn and Rev. Duane.”
I must have been making a face because Millie leaned in. “It’s for fun, Bow. Nothing to get your knickers in a knot. You two are as close to brother and sister as you can get without the blood is all.”
I looked across the table at Cassidy. What I felt for her wasn’t even a distant relation of brotherly.
