Page 81 of Moonshine Kiss
My father wandered into his office, and I slumped back in my chair.
“Bubba didn’t say anything to him. Dad’s just suspicious and as long as we don’t give him anything to verify those suspicions we’ll be fine.”
“I threw up twice this morning,” Mom groaned. “I haven’t done that in so long. At least a year.”
I snickered and stopped when it hurt my head. “I threw up once. Jonah made me this disgusting hangover cure. I kept it down for about ten seconds.”
“That was nice of him to deliver it to you next door,” Mom mused. My dad wasn’t the only one with finely tuned instincts.
“I was already there. Apparently I decided to stay at Bowie’s last night.”
“Did you now?” Mom said mildly.
“It doesn’t mean anything,” I said quickly before she could get any ideas in her head.
“Cassidy Ann, you do know that man is in love with you, don’t you?”
“Mom!” I hissed into the phone.
“I’m just tellin’ it like it is. The way he looks at you, all soft and sweet. Real deal, my darlin’. What are you gonna do about it?”
I rubbed a hand over my aching head. “I don’t know, Mom,” I finally admitted. “There was a time when I thought Bowie Bodine hung the stars in the sky. Then I find out all it took was one conversation with Dad to scare him off. I don’t want a man that shies away that easily. I want steady. I want a man I know is in my corner. Someone who won’t shake.”
“He was young and dumb, honey. Sometimes they do grow up.”
I thought back to that summer when I realized that my feelings for Bowie would lead to nowhere but heartache.Had I grown up? Or was I still the same scared girl?
“How’s Juney today?”
“Ugh. Your genius sister is fine. She worked out her protein and electrolyte ratios ahead of time and was up bright and early this morning.”
“If I didn’t love her so much I’d hate her just a little,” I laughed.
“Same here,” Nadine agreed. “Well, I’m going to head to the grocery store so I can make your father’s second least favorite meal tonight.”
“What? Why?”
“If I make him any of his favorites he’ll know it’s because I feel guilty. In fact, I should probably invite Gram-Gram over too just to make it very clear I have nothing to feel guilty about,” her mother mused.
My mother was a plotter, a maneuverer, a strategist. It was slightly terrifying.
“I hope you never have to use your powers against me,” I told her.
When she only laughed I felt a nervous tickle in my belly, but I was too dang hungover to pursue the topic any further.
“Well, good luck with Dad tonight. I’m going to go pretend to be a functioning adult.”
“Good luck with Bowie,” Mom said.
I hung up and opened up a report I’d been planning to finish yesterday. Being a small town, our police reports were a bit more entertaining than other departments. I’d pulled over drunk as a skunk Rhett Ginsler on his lawn mower as he cut a lopsided circle through the wildflower bed at Gin Rickey Park. He was upset over something or someone Misty Lynn had done.
Ugh. Misty Lynn. I hoped she’d be smart enough to keep her mouth shut about last night.
“Package for you, Cass,” Bex said, dumping a thick envelope on my desk.
“Bowie?” I asked.
“A teenage messenger. So most likely.”
