Driving Whiskey Wild

by Melissa Foster

  “Jed’s got it covered.” He put his hand on her bag. “In a hurry?”

  “As a matter of fact, yes. I’m meeting friends and I don’t want to be late.”

  His fingers fisted in her bag, and his brows furrowed again. He tucked her bag against his side like a football and headed for the door.

  “Hey!” She hurried after him. “That’s my bag.”

  He pushed open the door and held it for her. “I’m carrying it to your car.”

  Confused, she passed by him and walked into the bar. His arm swept possessively around her, and suddenly all eyes turned toward her again. Only this time, there were no heated glances or haughty whistles. Both were replaced with respectful nods directed at Bullet. Anger simmered inside her.

  She hurried out the front door and twisted from his grip. “What the heck was that all about?” She ripped her purse from his hands, unable to stop her voice from rising. “I am not your property, and that was…Oh my gosh, Bullet. I don’t even know how to classify what you just did. It was the equivalent of dragging me by my hair into your cave.”

  “You work there now,” he said evenly.

  “What the heck is that supposed to mean? Just because I work for your family doesn’t mean you own me.”

  He stepped closer, and she held up her palm. “Stop. Why do you always do that?”

  “What?”

  “Encroach on my personal space. Stay there. Say what you have to say, and it darn well better include an apology, because I don’t need this job enough to deal with this every time I’m here.”

  FINLAY GLARED AT Bullet as if she could visually cut him to shreds. “I am not some biker guy’s old lady! I am a professional woman, and if you refuse to treat me like one, then I’m gone, Bullet. And you can explain to your family why I left.”

  “What the fuck are you so pissed off about?”

  “You! You think you can just push your way between my legs? Maybe other girls like all that bad-boy mojo you have going on, and I’ll admit, there’s something hot about it, but all that heat tends to fizzle when you treat a girl like property.”

  There’s something hot about it glowed in his mind like a beacon. “I was putting a stop to the bullshit leers you were getting. Would you prefer I let you throw yourself to the wolves and allow those guys to eye-fuck you like that’s all you’re worth?”

  For the second time in twenty-four hours, her jaw hung open, and she snapped it shut. She stepped closer, a hair more than five feet of confident bravado, all wrapped up in a frilly dress with a sweet little ribbon tied around her waist. He’d never met anyone like this feminine, smart little waif, and even though he knew he should probably take the golden ticket she was offering and let her walk away, he couldn’t do it.

  “Isn’t that exactly what you have been doing to me?” she said in a calmer, accusatory voice. “Leering and making lewd comments? Trying to get me to ride the Bullet train?”

  Aw, fuck. She had a point. “Yeah, but that’s just because I’m into you. It’s different.”

  She wrinkled her nose, as if she couldn’t believe he’d said that, so he tried to explain.

  “You may not be ready to ride yet—”

  “Oh my gosh,” she said under her breath.

  “But one day you will be, and I’m not going to let those horny bastards look at you like you’re a piece of meat.”

  “But it’s okay for you to do it?” Her eyes bloomed wide.

  He nodded, then quickly realized what she’d said. “No. Wait. That’s not what I’m doing.”

  “Yes, it most definitely is.” She reached into her purse as she spoke. “Look, Bullet. I don’t know what your deal is, but I like your family, and I want to help make this place better. I’m sure I’m not the type of person you’re used to, but I know my way around the kitchen, and I could do this job in my sleep.” She pulled out her keys and said, “Obviously I have to pull up my bootstraps and be more confident around your customers, but now that I know that, I’ll do it. What I won’t put up with is having to fend off your advances every time I come in. So let’s lay it all on the line, right here, right now.”

  “Great.” He crossed his arms. “Go out with me.”

  She laughed.

  “Not the response I was looking for,” he grumbled.

  “How can you even ask me that after everything that just happened?”

  He splayed his hands and felt a smile creep across his lips. “You put up a few roadblocks, and I’m navigating around them.”

  “Roadblocks?” Her shoulders dropped. “Okay, listen, we’re not going to go out. Like, ever.”

  “Yes, we are, Finlay. Maybe not today or tomorrow, but one day you’re going to go out with me.”

  “No, I’m not.”

  Refusing to play this game, he looked around the parking lot, zeroing in on a pale-pink Suburban parked by the road, and stifled a laugh. “That yours?”

  “Don’t laugh. It’s for my catering company. I have to stand out. I want people to take notice and wonder why there’s a big pink truck on the road.”

  “You don’t need a pink vehicle to stand out. All you need to do is flash that traffic-stopping smile of yours.”

  “Bullet,” she said softly, and headed toward her truck.

  “You do have trouble with honesty, don’t you?”

  She turned and glared at him. “No.”

  “Bullshit.”

  “Do you always curse?”

  He shrugged. “Only when I feel like it.”

  She studied him for a long moment, her big blue eyes moving from his face to his chest and down his arms. He wondered what she was looking for. Just as he was about to ask, she said, “Are we clear about everything now?”

  “I am, but you obviously have a few things clouding your vision.” He reached for her keys, and when she lifted her hand up, as if she could hold them out of his reach, he smiled and covered her hand with his. “Keys, lollipop.”

  She huffed out a breath and let go. As he opened her door, she said, “Lollipop?”

  He wasn’t about to tell her that he’d like to lick her all over. “Best type of sugar rush there is.”

  “I’m not sure if I should slap you or thank you.”

  As she climbed into the van, he put a hand on her back, and she glared at him.

  “Put that scowl away, lollipop. If you think I’m not going to help you into your truck, you’re wrong. And as far as slapping goes, if that’s what you’re into, you can try it. But don’t be surprised if that gorgeous ass of yours sees its turn.”

  She turned bright red. “I can’t believe you talk like that.”

  “Like what? Oh, right. You have that thing about honesty. A proper girl like you? I’d think you were all about honesty. Where are you headed?”

  She settled into the driver’s seat and started the engine. “Out.”

  “Drinking?” He couldn’t imagine her drinking anything stronger than a Shirley Temple, but he felt the need to know she was safe.

  “After tonight? Most definitely.”

  He imagined her in a bar and immediately envisioned sleazy guys trying to pick her up. “Give me your phone.”

  “What? No.”

  “Jesus.” He pulled his phone from his pocket. “What’s your phone number?”

  “Why?”

  “Because I’m your boss and I should have it.”

  She rattled off her number and he sent her a text. Her phone dinged from within her purse.

  “Now you have my number in case you need me.” He put his hands on the roof of her car and leaned in, purposefully encroaching on her personal freaking space. “Or if you want me.”

  She blinked up at him, cheeks flushing, eyes heating.

  Yeah, that’s right, lollipop. I want to get so deep in your personal space you won’t be able to tell where I begin and you end. “I’m only a phone call away.”

  Chapter Three

  WITH A TINY straw between her lips, Finlay leaned closer to Gemma,
simultaneously draining the last of her strawberry lemonade vodka and trying to hear her talking over the blaring music. She’d always thought it was funny that the club was called Whispers when it was never quiet. She had been there a few times since she’d moved back to Peaceful Harbor, and there had been a live band playing each and every time. Tonight she was with Penny and Dixie, who were dancing in their chairs, and Gemma and Crystal, who were talking about their weddings. She took in Dixie’s long, flame-red hair and tattooed shoulders and arms and Crystal’s black leather miniskirt and boots. Her jet-black hair hung thick and shiny over her shoulders. Penny had come from work at her ice cream shop, looking sweet and sexy in a pair of jeans and a striped top. And then there were Gemma and Finlay, both wearing dresses and heels. They all appeared to be so different, but they got along like sisters. Finlay counted herself lucky. Back in Boston, when she wasn’t running her catering company, she would hang out with Isabel. She’d worried that when she moved back to the harbor she’d be too busy trying to get her business off the ground to make friends. But she’d quickly met Gemma and Crystal when Penny’s friend Tegan had referred her to cater Gemma’s wedding, and they’d all hit it off right away. When they’d introduced her to Dixie, it had been another godsend. Not just for her friendship, but because of Dixie, for the next month Finlay had a job she was excited about that allowed her enough time to get things in order for her own catering company.

  If she could get her arms around the situation with Bullet. The trouble was, she didn’t know if she wanted to get her arms around the situation—or him.

  Oh boy.

  She held her hand up as the waiter walked by, then pointed to her glass when she had his attention. She was on her second drink, which wasn’t much compared to how many drinks Dixie and Gemma had consumed, but Finlay rarely drank. One drink made her silly. Two would make her not give a darn about what she said. Tonight she was on a mission. If she couldn’t figure out Bullet, at least she could drown her dangerous desires, and with Crystal as their designated driver, she didn’t have to worry about getting home safely.

  “I still think the way you proposed to Bear at our wedding was the most romantic thing I’d ever seen, other than Tru’s proposal to me, of course,” Gemma said to Crystal.

  The waiter brought Finlay’s drink, and she sipped the deliciously fruity cocktail, letting it numb her curiosity. “It was definitely the most romantic thing I’ve ever seen,” Finlay agreed. She’d never forget the way Bear and Crystal had whispered across the aisle while Tru and Gemma had said their vows. Or the look on Bear’s face when Crystal proposed, and the look on Crystal’s when he’d dropped to one knee and presented a ring. Even now, weeks later, she got a warm feeling all over just thinking about it.

  “Thanks,” Crystal said as she tucked her dark hair behind her ear. “But wait until you hear about our legal wedding. You might remember that we didn’t have a marriage certificate when he proposed, but we had the guy perform the ceremony anyway, and to us, that will always be our real wedding day. But we went to the courthouse two weeks later with Jed, Dixie”—she smiled across the table at Dixie—“and the rest of Bear’s family.”

  “And my family!” Gemma reminded her.

  “I was getting there,” Crystal said. “Anyway, almost everyone from the wedding was at the courthouse, and it was finally our turn to get ‘officially’ married. I was more nervous than I’ve ever been in my life, which is crazy, because in my heart we were already married. Anyway, just as the clerk tells Bear to recite his vows, this woman screams. And it wasn’t just a scream; it was a bloodcurdling, terrifying scream, like in a horror movie.”

  “My brothers and Tru bolted out of the room like bats outta hell,” Dixie said, and downed her drink. She flagged down the waiter, indicating she’d like another, and said, “I’m telling you, the room shook, and that poor clerk had no idea what was going on.”

  “Clerk?” Gemma interrupted. “How about poor Kennedy and Lincoln? Lincoln started crying, ‘Daddy, Daddy, Daddy,’ and Kennedy, the ever-protective big sister, tried to wrench him from my arms, while at the same time screaming, ‘Uncle Boney! Uncle Bullet! Uncle Be-ah!’”

  “I love how she says ‘Be-ah.’ Don’t ever teach her to say her r’s,” Crystal said.

  Gemma rolled her eyes. “That’ll be real cute at sixteen.”

  Penny leaned into Finlay and slurred, “We need a baby in our family.”

  Finlay took Penny’s drink from her hands and gulped it down. “Don’t look at me.” Her hormones were all messed up. They had to be for her to be getting so hot and bothered over Bullet Whiskey that even Crystal’s story wasn’t distracting her from him. She looked at Crystal and said, “What did you do?”

  “We rushed out of the room and found Bones kneeling beside a woman with a broken nose. Bear and Tru were standing in front of them like bodyguards, and Bullet’s holding the asshole who hit her six inches off the ground, with his back against the wall, like this.” Crystal wrapped her hand around the front of her neck. “And Kennedy yells, ‘Uncle Bullet, did he hurt that lady?’ Bullet turns, and I swear he melted right there in front of us.”

  “Yup. He turned to a big puddle of goo for my baby girl,” Gemma agreed.

  Finlay had seen that sweet side of him with the kids, but it worried her that she could just as easily picture him with his hand around a man’s neck. “What did he do?”

  Dixie laughed. “He did what Bullet does best. He kept the guy against the wall, didn’t flinch, smiled at Kennedy, and somehow, without a hint of anger, he said, ‘Yes, baby girl, but I’m going to make sure he never does it again.’”

  “Wow,” Finlay said a little breathlessly. “That’s scary and chivalrous at the same time.” Her eyes skirted over the dance floor, and somewhere in the back of her mind she cataloged how different Bullet looked from anyone in the bar.

  “It’s only scary if the guy didn’t deserve it, but he literally broke that woman’s nose,” Crystal said. “He deserved it.”

  “I was worried when the police pulled Bullet off the guy,” Gemma admitted. “But Bullet didn’t seem concerned, and the guy didn’t press charges, so…”

  Finlay couldn’t imagine seeing anything like that firsthand. “Did you have to reschedule the wedding? I would have been a mess.”

  “Are you kidding?” Crystal asked. “Nothing would have stopped us from getting married. Once a Whiskey man makes up his mind about something, nothing will dissuade him.”

  Bullet’s voice thundered in her head. You may not be ready to ride yet…But one day you will be…

  “All of them?” Finlay asked.

  Dixie nodded as she checked out a dark-haired guy walking by. “We were brought up that way.” The waiter brought her drink, and she tucked a five-dollar bill into his pocket and winked. She patted his butt and said, “Thanks. Now get outta here. I’ve got to chat with my girls.”

  “Dixie!” Finlay laughed.

  “What? He’s cute, right?” Dixie took a drink.

  Crystal pushed away from the table, holding her stomach. “I think those nachos want to come back up. I’m going to the ladies’ room. Back in a few minutes.”

  “Want me to go with you?” Gemma offered.

  “No, I’m good.” Crystal hurried toward the ladies’ room.

  Dixie leaned across the table and said, “For once my brothers aren’t around. I’m going to have some fun. See? We Whiskeys all go after what we want.” She gathered her hair over her shoulder, and her expression turned serious. “Wait. Are you worried about Bullet? Because he acted like he didn’t want you to work at the bar?”

  Finlay finished Penny’s drink. “Yeah, that’s it.”

  “She’s lying,” Penny announced. She leaned in so close her nose nearly touched Finlay’s. “You’re lying. Your eye is twitching.”

  Finlay turned away. “It is not.”

  Gemma squinted at her. “Your eye is twitching.”

  “It’s like Pinocchio’s nose,”
Penny said. “But why are you…? Oh my God. You like him.”

  There was a collective gasp.

  “That’s why you’re suddenly drinking like a fish. You never drink, except when you feel overwhelmed, which is never.” Penny’s long lashes fluttered over her mischievous blue eyes as she patted her hand over her heart. “Buuuulllleeeeet—”

  “Ew! That’s my brother.” Dixie downed her drink.

  “It’s not true! I drink sometimes,” Finlay insisted. “I drank when I decided to move back home. Izzy and I went out to celebrate and I had a margarita.”

  “One drink?” Penny pointed to the empty glasses in front of Finlay. “You’re totally hot for Bullet.”

  “I am not!” Finlay insisted, purposely looking out at the dance floor instead of meeting the girls’ curious gazes. Geez! Am I? She needed another drink, no matter what it told Penny about her feelings. Trying to figure out how she felt toward Bullet should not be decided on the heels of hearing about Bullet’s convictions toward taking care of others. That was like an aphrodisiac.

  “Fin, why are you lying?” Penny pushed. “Bullet’s a good guy, and Lord knows you could use a man who knows what he’s doing to shake things up between the sheets.”

  “Penny! Please!” She made a mental note not to share her sex life with her sister ever again. She never should have told Penny she’d been intimate with only one man since Aaron, or how bad that experience had been. “I’m just…curious, or something. He’s nothing like any of the other guys I know.”

  “What’s going on between the sheets?” Gemma asked.

  “Or not going on?” Dixie added.

  Finlay closed her eyes, but it made her a little dizzy, so she opened them and said, “Not going on, thank you very much, and nothing. We’re not talking about this.”

  “What are we not talking about?” Crystal asked as she slid into the seat beside Gemma. Her face was sheet white. “Whatever it is, you’d better not talk about it too fast. My stomach is beyond sick. I just threw up, so I called Bear. I need to go home.”