For Love & Bourbon (17 page)

He walked into the bar, knowing she would be going on her lunch break. When he saw her chatting with a patron and refilling the man’s whiskey, he felt that knife in his back twist. She’d pulled back her hair into a neat tail, like she often did, leaving strands of her bangs loose to frame her face. The smile she offered her customer drove that knife a little bit deeper.

God, she was beautiful. Why had he never noticed before?

When they locked eyes across the room, he saw that smile fade. She untied her apron as he approached and avoided looking at him again.

He came up beside her anyway, leaning against the edge of the bar. “I’m here to treat you to lunch.”

Brandy took her time folding her apron. “That’s very nice of you, Adam. But I brought something to eat.”

“So save it for tomorrow. Come out with me today.” He wanted to reach for her, to drag her from the bar if that’s what it took, but pocketed his hands instead. “We need to talk.”

“We do?” She looked up at him now, brushing bangs out of her eyes. “About what?”

“You know what.” He glanced around, noting a few locals listening in nearby. Irritated, he leaned in closer and lowered his voice. “Please. Don’t make me beg, darlin’.”

She let out a slow, measured breath. Without a word, she set aside her apron, grabbed her purse and coat from a drawer under the bar, then looked up at him expectantly.

Adam’s mouth quirked in a smile, pleased to get his way. “Good. C’mon.”

They walked a block down to a sweet little café his mother used to take him and Ava to when they were kids. Inside was clustered with the local crowd, joined by a sprinkling of tourists all crammed into the dining area with its sunny yellow walls and lace curtains. Everyone looked up when they walked in, but he was used to that. He led her to a booth in the back corner, helped her out of her coat.

“Thanks,” she settled onto the bench seat, chewing nervously on her lip. She hid her hands in her lap, not wanting him to see them shaking. After days of not knowing where he’d gone to or if they would ever reconcile, seeing him now was like being doused with a bucket of ice water. An unwelcome shock to the system.

He ordered them both some coffee to start while she fixed her eyes on the plastic menu in front of her, not really seeing the words. She couldn’t muster up an appetite, anyway.

Adam folded his hands over the table. He stared at her intently, though she still refused to raise her eyes.

“I don’t want this to come between us, Brandy. We both know it was a mistake.”

A lump formed in her throat, blocking the words she wished she was brave enough to say. Instead she nodded, secretly collecting the pieces of her broken heart.

He ran a hand over his face. “I was drunk, and—”

“It’s okay, I understand,” she managed, attempting a smile. She was fully aware it trembled and despised herself for it. “There’s no hard feelings, Adam. Nothing between us has to change.”

But it already has, he realized with a sinking feeling. Lord, it already has.

“I kissed you because—” He stopped when the waitress dropped off their coffee along with a bowl filled with tiny half-n-half cartons. He waved her off, needing to finish his thought. “I kissed you because it felt right, okay? Even though it was a mistake. We’re friends—we’ve always been friends. I don’t want to lose that just because we want to fool around.”

“Fool around,” she repeated, the words sounding vague and meaningless coming from her lips. Before he could think of a way to rephrase it, she spoke again. “I made it clear I don’t want to…fool around…with you. If you thought I did or that I wanted something more, I’m sorry. I don’t.”

It surprised him to feel hurt by her statement. “Really?”

She took her time doctoring her coffee with sugar and cream, stirring it with her spoon. “Really. I care about you, Adam. And I want you to be happy. That’s where it ends.”

The lie ate away at her, but she sipped her coffee and ignored it all the same.

Adam considered her words, unsure how they differed from what he’d expected her to say. What he’d
hoped
she would say. Surely this was the easier path, wasn’t it? She claimed there were no hard feelings and was giving him the out he’d been searching for.

So then why did he feel so goddamn empty inside?

“We’ve known each other since we were kids. I’d always thought you had a crush on me. I thought I took advantage of that,” he admitted, clutching his coffee mug tightly in his hands. The burning heat seared his skin but he didn’t care. “I guess I’m happy to hear that’s not the case.”

“We ain’t kids anymore, honey,” she reminded him, her lips curving.

“Sometimes I don’t feel like much of an adult, either. I guess it shows.”

“Your family’s going through a rough spot right now.” She set down her mug, her eyes softening. “Once it’s over, things will get back to normal.”

“Will they?” he asked, knowing she didn’t have an answer. He frowned, feeling that bitterness swell inside of him again. “Ava’s keeping secrets from me. They all are. They think I can’t handle the truth of what’s goin’ on.”

“I thought it was just a tax thing?”

“C’mon, you really think the Feds would bother if it was only that?” Adam retorted, letting the resentment that always simmered just beneath the surface consume him. “There’s something else going on. I can feel it.”

“Why don’t you ask Ava? I’m sure she’ll tell you,” Brandy suggested, taking another sip of coffee.

She nearly dropped her mug when he slammed his fist down upon the table. “I tried that. She lied right to my goddamn face, then lied to the entire town.”

“How do you know she’s lying?”

He leveled his gaze with hers. “If anyone knows my twin sister, it’s me. She’s hiding something.”

Brandy pursed her lips, hating to have her loyalty split between them. “I don’t know how to make this better, Adam. I’m sorry. I have to get back.”

She slid from the seat and pressed a quick kiss to his forehead. “Thank you for the coffee. I’ll see you around.”

He stared after her as she walked away, his breath caught in his throat. He could still feel the warmth of her lips on his skin, and all it did was torment him further.

AVA HAD
to hand it to her grandfather. When he spoke, people listened. And not only did they listen, they trusted every word he said. It came from being one of the town’s oldest and most beloved members. It also came from being the kind of man not known for talking bullshit.

She wondered if, once the investigation came to a close, the people of Fox Hills would ever come to understand that he had lied to them. Given them assurances he had no business giving. So much of this was out of his control, but he’d stood taller than his five-foot-seven frame and lambasted anyone who dare challenge his assertion that all was well with Lucky Fox Whiskey.

He’d done what she had been unable to do. In her youth and inexperience, she had gotten flustered and let her temper fly. She had let Beau get under her skin, when she should have stood firm and not given credence to his accusations.

Thanks to her grandfather, the gossip had died down and their employees seemed content. The local press had been courteous enough as a favor to her grandfather to not publish anything about the FBI’s presence in Fox Hills, which meant the nationwide media wasn’t covering the topic either. So far, despite all her fears, Lucky Fox seemed to be weathering the storm quite nicely.

The same couldn’t be said for her family. It had been nearly a week since she’d learned that her father had lied to her. He could have had completely innocent, noble intentions, but a lie was a lie and he was her father of all people. They had been thick as thieves her entire life. She had gone to him for everything. For him to not trust her with the truth stung almost as badly as the doubt she held over his innocence.

Despite his promise to do so, she hadn’t heard any news from Cooper. She had seen him nosing around town, usually with that partner of his, but he hadn’t said a word to her about the case. Just what they were waiting for, she wasn’t sure.

Any attempts to question him about it were met with non-answers and quick brush-offs, leaving her frustrated and angry. After every conversation, she’d storm off only to run into him again the next day, a habit that was only irritating her more.

It was obvious that he was going out of his way to see her, whether it be at the distillery or in town when she ran errands. She was starting to notice the looks they were getting, and knew their little “friendship” or whatever the hell it was had sparked a barrel full of rumors. It would be in her best interest, and in the best interest of her family, if she stop socializing with him altogether.

But, damn it, she liked it. She liked him. And it grated on her nerves whenever she felt that little flutter in her belly just at the sight of him. He had no right making her feel that way. It was asinine, juvenile. Pathetic.

Then he’d smile that boyish grin and none of that seemed to matter.

She rolled up to the bar and, because it felt appropriate, banged her forehead a few times against the steering wheel in an attempt to knock some sense into herself. It didn’t work, and instead left her with a mild headache. With a groan, she hopped from the truck and headed inside, wanting nothing more than a drink and to dance off some of this restless energy.

The familiar sights and sounds within the bar brought some measure of comfort. Alan Jackson crooned out of the radio about a muddy river in Georgia, putting a bounce in her step. She smiled as she waved to her grandfather and his friends, the group of them huddled around a table playing cards and tossing back whiskey. Laughter blended with the music, wove in-between snippets of conversation she caught as she leaned up against the bar. To her relief, no one seemed to be talking about Lucky Fox or the FBI.

She flagged down Brandy, feeling better already. “Gimme a beer tonight. You know what I like.”

“Comin’ right up.” Brandy winked and dug into the cooler. She removed the cap on a bottle of Kentucky Ale and handed it to Ava.

“Thanks.” Ava took a long, eager sip, then set the bottle down. “Lord, it’s been a long week.”

“Tell me about it,” Brandy sympathized, tossing a coaster under Ava’s beer. “Why don’t you go dance?”

“I might.” Ava turned, watching the group already getting rowdy on the dance floor. She tapped her foot in time with the beat, eager to join them. Instead she faced Brandy again, sensing her friend’s melancholy mood. “Is everything all right, honey?”

Brandy tensed, then smiled and tucked a few stray strands of hair behind her ear. “Of course. Just tired, is all.”

“Hmm.” Ava continued to watch her, not believing one bit of it. “You seen Adam?”

Brandy pointed to the old jukebox. “He’s over there. With your mama.”

“Mama’s here?” Ava twisted around, craning her neck to see. She spotted Adam with her mother, the two of them searching the jukebox for the next song. Her brother grinned while their mother laughed, and seeing it brought a twinge of joy to her heart. “Well, I’ll be damned.”

“She said her book club let out early, so she met up with Adam and he talked her into going dancing,” Brandy explained. “Ain’t that sweet of him?”

“Yeah. Yeah, it is.” Ava started to go to them, only to freeze as Cooper and Marco entered the bar. All at once her defenses rose and her heart leapt into her throat. Cooper spotted her almost immediately and navigated the crowd to reach her.

“Hey,” he greeted, his voice raised over the music. For the first time since he’d come to town, he was dressed in something other than his usual business suit. Instead he wore nicely fitted jeans paired with a white button up shirt and a charcoal gray sport coat.

“Hi, Slick.” She angled her chin, hoping she didn’t look as pleased to see him as she felt.

“Funny running into you here. This is our first time inside. Thought we’d see what all the fuss was about.” He motioned to Marco, who went straight to the bar the second he spotted Brandy.

“Why, hello there.” Marco delivered his most charming grin as he rested an elbow on the bar. He gave a quick, suggestive nod. “How you doin’?”

Brandy snorted out a laugh, unable to help herself. Ever the professional, she slapped a coaster down on the bar and offered him a smile. “Just fine, city boy. What can I get ya?”