Whiskey Sharp--Jagged

by Lauren Dane

The small campsite, run by some friends of friends, sat on a rise overlooking a gorgeous lake. There was a fire pit in the center of a cluster of yurts. Vic had explained they would make their meals. A crude but private outhouse was near, but not too near. Far enough away that she wasn’t planning to drink too much before bed so she wouldn’t have to stumble out into the cold darkness to pee at three in the morning.

  “This is what drew me here to the Northwest,” she told Vic as they’d dropped off their things in their yurt. The lake shimmered in the springtime sunshine, a deep—and very cold—blue. She indicated that and the spread of trees all around. More mountains surrounded them. “Stunning natural beauty. I’ve never been up this way before. It’s absolutely marvelous.”

  He stood next to her, an arm slung around her shoulders. “It can’t compete with you, but it does okay.”

  “Still planning on that yurt sex I see,” she murmured.

  He laughed, pulling her to his side more snugly. “I’m always planning on sex. As long as it’s you, it doesn’t matter to me where.”

  They explored the area with some mini hikes until they found the right place for fishing and set about catching some dinner so they didn’t need to resort to the backup dinner they brought in their packs.

  Later, alone, they looked up at the sky as they snuggled up under a blanket on the chaise made for two. Out here so far from the city it was clear and dark enough to see so many stars it looked photoshopped.

  Vic handed her a steaming mug of tea and she decided it was time. “So. You’ve been very good about giving me the space and time to work through everything with my parents.”

  “I told you I wasn’t going anywhere.”

  “How is it you’re always so sure about everything?” she asked him.

  “I’m not. But I’m sure about you. And I’m sure how I feel about you. I know who you are and I love you.” He shrugged.

  “My mother came to the shop yesterday afternoon. Well, actually she was waiting for me outside the coffee shop when I came out from a caffeine run. I didn’t tell you last night because I had some last bits in my head to tidy up.”

  “You’re telling me now,” he said easily.

  “She started off with the usual lines about family and love and all that. But then when I reiterated what I’d said to my father, what he’d done to me and Maybe and your family, she got quiet. So I thought, huh, maybe she’s actually listening and will see what he’s doing and her part in it.”

  He tried not to snort, she knew he tried, but it was there anyway. And he was right.

  “He’s the one who went to your brother’s ex’s family and got them stirred up. He found out about Danil and tracked them down to put all sorts of ideas in their heads about what you were doing to me. That your family was helping you hurt me.”

  Rachel knew he was seriously angry because his entire body seized up, making him even bulkier. A sex flush worked from her chest up her neck and she was glad it was dark enough that he couldn’t see how easy she was for him.

  He already knew. It wasn’t a secret but she had some pride.

  “He and his little buddies won’t be doing anything for my dad again,” she told him.

  “How do you know?”

  “I ran an investigation. I found out lots of things and it wasn’t super hard. Who the guys were who’d come to the restaurant parking lot that night. Where they worked. Who they dated or were married to. Any sorts of indiscretions they might wish to keep private. Like that time my mother had an affair with the same guy who’d been stalking and harassing Maybe. Turns out she didn’t want Richie to know. Go figure. Anyway, it’s over. I’ve spent three weeks blocking every one of his ways into my life. I’ve learned enough to make sure your family is protected too. If he steps off the approved path he’s going to pay. And he’s too pitiable to pay and my mother, despite her affair, wants to keep her marriage enough that she’ll make sure he leaves us alone.”

  Vic took her hand so he could kiss her knuckles. An old-fashioned reaction to your girlfriend saying all the stuff she just had. But a Vic reaction. Which warmed her heart.

  “A brutally effective way to make sure he can’t mess with you. That’s really sexy.”

  “No comment on the fact that my father is the reason those people came to harass and upset your mom and dad?”

  He shrugged. “I already thought he was a piece of shit so it’s not like finding out another awful thing he’d done was going to make me loathe him more. I’m not even surprised. You’d think he would have found out that I was a citizen though.”

  “He was lazy with the questions he asked. There’s lots of information out there. It’s an information age, right? Sometimes there’s so much that if you aren’t very specific, or if you’re too specific you might miss stuff. He just never even thought to see where you were born. He heard Russian being spoken and that’s all he cared about. It’s lazy. I bet his coworkers thought he was a slacker back when he was on the force too.”

  “You did all that not just to protect yourself, but everyone. Maybe first and foremost. But me and my parents too. Thank you, tigryonak, for taking care of what is so important to me.”

  “I love you, Vicktor Orlov. I love how you are always able to see the best in me. I love your optimism. Your humor. Your ferocity. I love how smart you are and how much you nurture everyone around you. I mostly love how you look at me. Like I could do anything.”

  She hadn’t said it back to him that night when he first said the words. She’d told him he’d changed everything and made it clear the depth of her feelings. But those three words needed to come at the right moment when she’d handled everything else and could say them with all of her heart.

  He burst into laughter, the kind she loved most from him. Delighted, charming, sexy. It was unique to her and it always felt like a gift. “Of course you do. How can you not? I have a big dick and I love making you come.”

  She chuckled as she pinched him. “Don’t forget the bread.”

  “I will never forget the bread.” He leaned over, kissed the top of her head and they went back to watching the stars.

  * * * * *

  Read on for a bonus, extended sneak peek of

  the final book in the WHISKEY SHARP trilogy

  WHISKEY SHARP: TORN

  Coming Spring 2018 from HQN and Lauren Dane

  The deepest love can come as a surprise...

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  NONE OF THIS would be possible without the help of so many people behind the scenes. Thank you so much to the folks in the art department who shot two completely different cover concepts (all in service to helping this book get as much shelf space as possible).

  Thank-yous always go to my editor, Angela James, who truly goes out of her way to help me be the best author I can be.

  Thanks go as well to copy and line editors, folks in marketing, the audio books division, the sales team and everyone at Harlequin who makes it their job to help produce a finished product that shows the author at her best and connects with readers.

  Thank you to my agent and friend, Laura Bradford, for having my back.

  My husband, Ray, is an excellent sounding board. He’s also fantastic at helping out with marketing and all sorts of work in the background. Plus he smells good and brings me Peanut M&M’s and is a great dad too.

  And never least—thank you, readers, old and new. Thank you for the time you give to read my books. Thank you for the kind notes and letters. Thank you all for hand-selling me and talking me up and taking the time to review and all that stuff. It means so very much and I really appreciate it.

  Whiskey Sharp: Torn

  by Lauren Dane

  CHAPTER ONE

  Pointed west home beckons.

  Waits for you like a lover

  NOT TOO MANY hours after getting off an airplane, Cora appro
ached Whiskey Sharp—a barbershop and, in the evenings, a bar. The lazily swirling red-and-white candy-cane sign out front was illuminated and the interior lights cast a shine against the gold-toned flourish of the shop’s title on the front glass doors.

  Inside, it smelled of sandalwood and amber, two of the more popular scents of the products used in hair and beards. Music played loud enough to feel like an embrace but it didn’t drown out the low hum of conversation from the people knotted around the bar area.

  Alexsei Petrov, Maybe’s husband, but also Cora’s friend, owned and ran the place that had become another home for Cora. He saw her come in and smiled, tipping his chin to where Maybe stood, working at her station. Giving someone a shave by the looks of it.

  Three months before, her friend’s hair had been platinum blonde, but currently the tips were a brilliant teal blue that bled into a wash of purple.

  It would have looked absurd on most people, but Maybe managed to make it seem retro and futuristic at the same time when she coupled it with high-waisted gray pinstripe pants and a crisp white button-down shirt.

  Rachel stood, her hip resting against the table, a smile on her face reserved for who Cora now recognized as Rachel’s man, Vic, sitting in Maybe’s chair getting that shave.

  The weight of the familiar was lovely and bloomed through her belly. This was another one of her places. Full of her people.

  “You bitches are still the hottest chicks I know,” she said as she approached.

  Rachel looked over, her eyes widening in pleasure and recognition. “You’re here!”

  “I told you I’d come by,” Cora said, swallowed up into a hug.

  “I know, but you’re here now. Yay!” Maybe took over the next hug, smacking a kiss right onto her lips before stepping back.

  Laughing, she got hugs from the wild bearded Russians, as Rachel and Maybe referred to their dudes.

  “Everyone missed you. Not more than us, naturally, but still,” Rachel said after Cora’d been loved up on by all her friends. “Three months is way too long to go without seeing you.”

  “It’s nice to be missed.” She was pretty sure she’d just finished her last extended trip with her mother. Yes, it was travel for work and she liked to go new places. But these long stints meant she had avoided getting a dog or a cat. It wasn’t fair to have to leave them with someone for weeks and weeks. It meant that aside from one long-distance relationship that had ended two years before, Cora hadn’t really seen anyone seriously.

  She wanted more roots. And a dog. And maybe someone to go on dates with.

  She’d settle for a drink and some food as she hung out with her crew to start.

  “Wren said she already invited you to dinner,” Maybe called out as she began to clean her station up.

  “She informed me that one of their friends is cooking and that there’d be cake. So naturally I’m in.”

  Gregori—another wild bearded Russian—was Vic and Alexsei’s cousin. He also happened to be a hugely successful artist that Cora had known for years through the local art scene. He and his wife, Wren—an artist in her own right—lived in a loft space above Whiskey Sharp.

  “There’s always cake at their place. It’s like a little bit of heaven right upstairs,” Maybe said.

  “It’s like what I imagine heaven to be, that’s for sure,” Cora answered.

  “If there’s no cake, how can it be heaven?” Rachel said it like a sacred prayer and Cora agreed utterly.

  “I can’t wait to hear all about your time in London but Wren said she wanted to hear it too and so not to visit too much without her.” Maybe hooked her arm through Cora’s. “I want to hear it now, so let’s get going. I’m also hungry.”

  “You know how she gets when she’s hungry,” Alexsei said with a smirk at the corners of his mouth. Maybe rolled her eyes, but smiled as she did it so Cora knew she wasn’t offended.

  And he was right because Maybe was lovely and sweet, but not when she was hungry.

  They all headed out and down the sidewalk half a block to the doors leading to the small lobby where the residents of the lofts had their mailboxes and the elevator.

  The scent of garlic and onions swirled around her senses as they got out on the right floor. Gregori and Wren’s door was painted bright, shiny red and flew open before they were able to use the doorbell.

  Wren, wearing a huge grin, rushed at Cora and hugged her tight. “Hi! Come have champagne and eat yummy food while you tell us all how the last three months were.”

  “I can do that. You look fantastic,” Cora told her as they headed toward the kitchen area. “Marriage agrees with you.”

  Her friends had come back from an impromptu trip right before Cora had left for London only to announce they’d gotten married along the way. After several years of living together it had been the right choice for their relationship.

  “I look exactly the same except for the ring part and the way his mom gives me and then my belly a pointed look every time I see her,” Wren said.

  “Welcome to my world,” Maybe said. “Irena has now taken to telling me about all the baby clothes she saw but didn’t buy because she had no grandchildren to wear them. I tried to get her obsessing about Rachel’s womb, but she’s too wily.”

  “Mind your own womb. You’ve been with Alexsei longer than I’ve been with Vic. It’s your time to shine, bitch,” Rachel said with a laugh.

  “I’m so messed up. I missed you all so much.” Cora hugged each one tightly.

  “You’re the perfect kind of messed up,” Rachel said, linking her arm through Cora’s.

  This was good. The best, happiest part of her life.

  Her stomach growled as she sucked in the scents all around. “I need food.”

  “We’ve got that covered,” Gregori called out to them. “Come, I’m pouring champagne.”

  “No need to call me twice when there’s booze involved,” Cora murmured to Rachel, who snickered.

  Fairy lights and candles made the loft glow. Plus it was the perfect light and her skin would look way better than the jet lag she knew smudged dark circles under her eyes.

  “It’s all romantical in here and shit,” Cora said and then nearly swallowed all her spit when she caught sight of who stood at the stove.

  CHAPTER TWO

  There is wild joy in recognition.

  A leap of faith to let yourself be known.

  An old magic.

  WELL OVER SIX FEET of hot-ass ginger celebrity chef, former model and childhood poster boy for a cult—and most notably one of her first really hard crushes—Beau Petty had aged really, really well. He had the kind of face that would only get better as he aged. At seventy-five he’d still be searingly hot because it wasn’t just that he was chiseled and taut and broad shouldered, his attitude seemed to pump out confident alpha male.

  He’d been gorgeous when she’d been sixteen and he twenty-one or two, but seventeen years later, he was magnetic and intense on a whole new level. It made her heart skip a little just looking at him.

  Cora had to lock her knees when his gaze flicked from Rachel over to her and his expression melted from surprise into pleasure as he dried his hands on a towel and headed toward her.

  And then he hugged her and holy wow it was better than a doughnut. He smelled good and was big and hard and wow, he was hugging her and when he stepped back he said her name.

  It seemed as if the word echoed through her, plucked her like a musical note.

  Wow.

  “It’s really good to see you,” he said as he stepped back, and she had to crane her neck to look up, and up, into his face.

  “What an unexpected surprise,” Cora told him.

  “We have some catching up to do.”

  The lines around his eyes begged for a kiss.

  “You guys know each other? I mean, duh. O
bviously as you just said her name and there was a hug and stuff.” Maybe smiled brightly, fishing for details in her cheerful, relentless way.

  “First champagne and introductions and then we will hear that story,” Gregori said, interrupting Maybe’s nosiness long enough to hand out glasses.

  * * *

  HE’D KNOWN BACK then that she’d had a crush on him, but she was still a kid. Then. Now? She still carried herself as if a secret song played in her head. But there was nothing girlish about her now.

  Her hair—shades of brunette from milk chocolate to red wine—was captured back from her face in a ponytail, tied with a scarf that managed to look artsy and retro instead of silly. It only accentuated how big her eyes were, how high her cheekbones, the swell of her bottom lip that looked so juicy he wanted to bite it.

  “Get started, if you’re hungry.” He indicated the long butcher block counter where he’d set up some appetizers. “I was down at Pike Place earlier so the oysters are sweet and fresh. That’s also where the octopus in the salad came from, caught just today. Just a quick grill with lemon and olive oil and pickled red onions.”

  “Oh my god, really?” Cora cruised straight over and grabbed a plate.

  A woman with an appreciation for food was sexy as hell.

  “Update me on your life. What are you doing here in Seattle?” she asked after eating two of the oysters and humming her satisfaction. “So good. This octopus is ridiculous. Is that jalapeno?”

  “Good catch. Yes, in the olive oil I used to dress it.”

  “I like it. What else are you making? Not that this isn’t really good, but I’m greedy.”

  Watching her enjoy his food was a carnal shot to his gut. It set him off balance enough that he focused on the food for a few beats.

  “I’m working on a new cookbook so I’m trying out some seafood recipes. Scallop and crab cakes with a couscous salad.”

  “Yum! Ah, that’s why you’re in town?”

  “I’ve been in Los Angeles for a long time.” Feeling antsy. He had houses, but no home. “I felt a change would be good. A friend who owns a number of restaurants in the area has given me access to his kitchens so I can try my ideas out there as well.” He liked working around other chefs, loved that atmosphere in a kitchen where the whole team loved to cook.