Taming My Whiskey

by Melissa Foster

  “Jace!” she seethed as he led her outside and around the side of the building, where they could be alone. She yanked her arm free, breathing hard, anger and confusion staring back at him. “What is going on? You can’t just drag me away from Justin’s show like you own me.”

  He felt like he was cracking open, and at the same time, anger brewed in retaliation to that pain. Despite the war raging inside him, he stepped closer, craving the connection that had driven him there.

  “You’re so angry,” he said gruffly. “And here I am, Dix, after too many torturous days and fucking hellish nights, finally standing with the woman who has infiltrated my every thought, feeling like I can breathe for the first time since you left New York.”

  Her expression softened, and she looked like she might say something, but nothing came out.

  “Tell me I didn’t make a mistake putting my business obligations on hold to be with you this week.” He touched her hand, his heart hammering against his ribs, and said, “Fuck, Dix. Say something.”

  She blinked several times and said, “I…I still don’t know what you’re doing here. You know where I stand.”

  “I do. I told you that I hear everything you say, but I also hear the things you don’t. I heard everything you said in Peaceful Harbor, and as much as it killed me to do it, I did what you asked and I left. But damn it, Dixie, it was the things you didn’t say that had me pushing off days of meetings, flying across the country to be here with you. I know you’re missing me as much as I’m missing you.”

  He gathered her in his arms, relief consuming him when she didn’t freeze up. “I know you need promises, and you know I’m a man of my word. I haven’t answered to anyone in so long, I can’t stand here and promise you something I’m not sure I can give. But you are the only thing I can think about. What you’re doing, who you’re with, wondering if you’re thinking about me. The pain I saw in your eyes when I came to see you gutted me. I don’t ever want to see that look again, and damn it, Dix, you’re all I see when I close my eyes. When I get on my bike, I feel your arms around me. And if that doesn’t tell you just how much you’ve messed with my head, then this will. When I walked into my place in LA, where you’ve never stepped foot, I felt your absence like a missing limb.”

  “Jace,” she said in a shaky whisper.

  Her lower lip trembled, but he had to get the rest out. “I can’t promise you next week or forever, but I’m here now. If you’re still into me, which I think you are because what we have is too fucking powerful to dissipate, then I’m yours for the rest of the week. It’s a start, Dixie, and it’s the best I can do right now. Lord knows it’s the biggest step I’ve ever taken with a woman. What I can promise you is that I have no interest in being with anyone else and that I will do everything within my power not to hurt you again. The choice is yours. I’ve been up all night, and I’m sure I’m not saying this as eloquently as you deserve, but I hope I’ve said it clear enough—”

  “It’s enough,” she said with tears in her eyes, pressing her lips to his.

  Like a starving man to a meal, he greedily took more. She was the balm to his anguish, the very oxygen he needed to breathe. When she melted against him, returning his kisses with all of the passion and intensity he remembered, the tangled and broken pieces of himself started falling back into place. He slowed their kisses, savoring their closeness and thanking the heavens above that she was giving him another chance.

  Chapter Nineteen

  FOR THE FIRST time in her life, Dixie felt giddy. She knew how big a step it was for Jace to put his work on hold even for a few days, but to have come after her? To give even the promise of a start? He was giving them a real chance. She remembered what he’d said about not trusting a woman, and that made what he’d done, and all the things he’d said, that much sweeter. The longer they kissed, the more he filled up the empty spaces he’d left behind.

  He touched his forehead to hers and whispered, “God, I’ve missed you.”

  “I can’t believe you put everything off to be with me.”

  “Believe it, Dix. I couldn’t stay away for another day. I know I’m not perfect, but I’m trying the best I can.” He took her hand in his and said, “Can we get out of here? Go someplace to be alone?”

  Her mind screamed yes, but there was one obligation she couldn’t get out of. “I want to more than anything, but Justin’s cousins are throwing him a big celebration at the Salty Hog and I promised I would go.”

  “Then the Salty Hog it is.” He kissed her softly and said, “It’s going to be hell keeping my hands to myself.”

  A thrill skated through her. “That makes two of us.”

  “The past week has felt like a month. I wasn’t sure how you’d react to me showing up like this, but I had to come.”

  “You kind of blew me away.” Kind of was the understatement of a lifetime. The man who didn’t chase or make empty promises had not only come after her, but he’d promised her a start. A start! Would she ever be able to think about those two words again without getting giddy?

  “I’m crazy about you, Dixie. Thank you for giving us a chance.”

  Her heart soared. “Where are you staying?” she asked, hoping he’d stay with her.

  “I didn’t get that far. I figured if things went badly, I’d crash at Jared’s place in Truro.”

  “I’m staying at a cute cottage in Wellfleet, and the bed is way too big for me,” she said with feigned innocence. “I guess I can make do if you want to stay at your brother’s place.”

  His hands slid down her back and he pressed her tight against his hard body. “Like hell you will.”

  BY THE TIME they pried themselves apart, everyone was leaving the gallery and heading to the bar. They made a quick stop at Dixie’s cottage to drop off her Jeep and Jace’s bag—enjoying dozens of steamy kisses—then they went to join the others for the celebration.

  The Salty Hog was a two-story restaurant and bar in Harwich Port overlooking the harbor. There was the restaurant on the main floor and a bar on the upper level. Tank’s parents had owned it for as long as Dixie could remember. She had fond memories of sipping sodas on the back deck with her cousins and other Dark Knight families when they were young. The older kids kept an eye on the younger ones while the parents danced and carried on upstairs, where there were pool tables, darts, and almost always a live band. Unlike Whiskey Bro’s, which catered primarily to bikers, the Salty Hog was a favorite haunt for locals and tourists from all walks of life. Though tonight, for the celebration in Justin’s honor, motorcycles outnumbered other vehicles in the parking lot.

  Jace kept his hand on Dixie’s lower back as they made their way upstairs, his dark eyes taking everything in. Her giddiness had calmed to a constant vibration, though she was trying to tamp down her expectations. She’d never realized how easy it was to get swept away when a man made such a meaningful gesture. Everything was different between them. She felt different, less like she had to stand her ground and protect her heart. Not only had he heard every word she’d said, but he’d acted on them, making her feel more than special, like he would protect her heart now, too.

  That was an incredible feeling. She was proud to be with him as they stepped into the crowded bar.

  “Dixie! Jace!” Madigan waved from where she stood by a table, surrounded by her four brothers and three Wicked cousins.

  Jace’s arm circled Dixie’s waist, holding her closer as they made their way over to the table. Justin, Madigan, and Tank were watching them curiously.

  “Jace, my man. Thanks for showing up,” Justin said as he filled two shot glasses. Justin handed Dixie and Jace drinks and waggled his finger between them. “This is new. Did I miss something in the last hour?”

  All the men around the table chuckled.

  “I knew it!” Madigan exclaimed with wide-eyed delight. “I could tell by the way you were looking at Dixie that there was something between you two.”

  Tank eyed Jace over the rim of his g
lass and said, “Collecting on that forty-grand auction win, Stone?”

  “Absolutely not,” Jace said gruffly, holding Dixie tighter.

  “Hey.” Dixie pointed at the amused Wicked clan. “Cut the crap. This is my life, and I did not just take a frigging stand at the auction to be heckled by you nitwits. If I hear one word out of any of you about this now, or from my family back home, I will hunt you down and make you regret it. Not a word, got it?”

  All the men held their hands up in surrender, except Tank. His eyes remained trained on Jace and Dixie, softening only when Dixie gave him a reassuring look.

  Dwayne whistled. “Back up, boys. Dixie’s in the house.”

  “We know better than to get in your way,” Baz said with a wink.

  “Give me enough to drink and I won’t even remember this tomorrow,” Zander said, and then he guzzled his drink.

  “You heard the woman.” Justin cocked a grin. “What happens at the Hog stays at the Hog!”

  There was a round of cheers and commotion as the men filled their glasses for another shot.

  “I was about to shut them down,” Jace said to Dixie. “But that was hot.”

  “I had to nip it in the bud. You give these guys an inch and they’ll take a mile.” She clinked her glass with his and they drank their shot.

  Justin lifted a bottle to refill their glasses.

  “No more for me.” Jace set his glass on the table. “I’m transporting precious cargo tonight.”

  Dixie swooned and caught a dreamy sigh from Madigan.

  “You’re a good man,” Justin said. “Dix? You in?”

  “No, thanks.” She didn’t drink when she was riding, and she wanted to be sober to enjoy every second of her night with Jace.

  “To Justin!” Justin’s older brother, Blaine, shouted, and another cheer rang out.

  “I’m not drinking either,” Madigan said. “You guys are so cute together. How long have you been going out?”

  “Jace!” An exotic-looking brunette wearing a flouncy floral dress pushed through the crowd, squealed, and launched herself into Jace’s arms.

  Dixie’s chest constricted as Jace lifted the hot little number right off her feet. Do you have a woman in every town? Because I did not sign up for this shit. She fought the urge to pry the woman from her man.

  When the effervescent chick’s high heels touched the ground, she smiled at Madigan, and Jace reached for Dixie, bringing her possessively to his side. “Marly, this is my girl, Dixie.”

  “Your girl?” Marly’s face lit up. She turned to Madigan and said, “Mads? Is it true? Please tell me it’s true!”

  Madigan laughed. “I can confirm that Jace and Dixie are an item, although they don’t want to talk about it.”

  “Girl…” Marly grabbed Dixie’s and Madigan’s arms and said, “We need to talk.”

  As Marly dragged them away from Jace, Dixie looked over her shoulder at him. He held his palms up with an apologetic expression.

  “Don’t look to him for help,” Marly said. “I’ve known that man for eight years and not once has he brought a girl around. So you’ve got some explaining to do, chickadee.”

  “I could say the same for you.” Dixie pulled her arm free and planted her hand on her hip. She didn’t even try to hold back. “Are you an old flame? Because I won’t put up with that cheery, hugging shit if you’ve slept with my man.”

  “Forget the explanation. Wow. I get it,” Marly said with a knowing smile.

  “Right?” Madigan said as they gathered around a high-top table. “They’re a perfect match. But we’re not talking about that.”

  “Got it, and to answer your question, Dixie, no, I’m not an old flame of Jace’s.” Marly’s expression turned serious. “The first time I met Jace was at Bikes on the Beach, almost two years after my older brother Paul was killed.”

  Dixie’s stomach pitched. “Oh, Marly. I’m so sorry.”

  “Thank you,” she said kindly. “He was taking a joyride on his buddy’s motorcycle, and he wasn’t wearing a helmet. He was thrown from the bike and died instantly. He shouldn’t have been on the bike. He’d never ridden a motorcycle before, but twenty-year-olds don’t always think things through.” She sighed, hurt passing over her face. “I was eighteen when Paul died, and it pretty much destroyed me. I wanted to do something to try to keep other families from going through the same heartache, so I started the Head Safe motorcycle safety program.”

  “You started that program?” Dixie had heard about it. “That’s a required course as part of the Department of Motor Vehicles licensing requirements in the town where I live.”

  “It was a huge deal when it went national,” Madigan said. “We’re all very proud of Marly.”

  “I’m just glad I was able to get people to see the seriousness of riding without a helmet.” Marly glanced at Jace, who was talking with a few of the Dark Knights, and said, “I met Jace right after I started the program. I was a naive twenty-year-old, totally out of my element at Bikes on the Beach, standing by a card table trying to pass out flyers. I was much shyer then and had never been around people like this.” She waved to the crowd of bikers, many of whom were bearded, tattooed, and wearing their leathers. “Nobody paid me any attention, but Jace walked up and asked for a flyer, and I swear my heart nearly stopped. He looked so much like Paul. He was older, but the similarities were striking, and I lost it. Bawled my eyes out, blubbered like a fool to the one person who actually spoke to me. Jace didn’t even know me, but he wrapped me in his arms and held me as I cried. I was so embarrassed, but he kept saying, ‘Whatever it is, it’ll be okay.’”

  A lump lodged in Dixie’s throat.

  “I need to go get a pitcher of soda, or I’m going to cry.” Madigan headed for the bar.

  “I love her,” Marly said.

  “She’s sweet, and so are you, Marly. I’m sorry I jumped the gun before. I’ve known Jace a long time, but our relationship is new, and I got jealous. But I’m really not a jealous bitch.”

  Marly laughed. “It’s okay. Jace is a special guy and definitely worth getting jealous over. When I finally stopped crying that day and explained myself to him, he sat down and we talked for, like, two hours straight. And then he spent the rest of that day, and the next, handing out pamphlets for the program with me. I had no idea he was a bigwig in the biking community. I thought he was just a nice guy. He said he had sisters and hoped that if they were in the same situation, someone would be there for them. It wasn’t until the last day of the event, when he showed up with an outline of a business strategy and marketing plan for Head Safe and walked me through them that I realized this kind gentleman knew a heck of a lot about business and bikes. I finally asked what he did for a living. He said he was with Silver-Stone, but he said it so nonchalantly, he could have been low on the totem pole. He connected me with Alexander Gallow, the director of marketing at Silver-Stone’s LA headquarters and said he’d forward a copy of the business plan to him, along with a list of people in the industry for me to contact when I was ready. That’s when I googled Jace and found out that he was one of the owners of the company, and of course I was floored. Alexander has been a godsend, but Jace was like my guardian angel. I’ve never met anyone like him.”

  Neither have I.

  “Without Jace, the program never would have gotten off the ground,” Marly said, bringing Dixie’s mind back to her story. “He funded an initiative to take it statewide, then helped me get funding to take it nationwide. And I’m sure you know how he is. He still won’t allow me to do anything in return. He says educating people is saving lives, and that’s enough of a payback. To this day he calls me on the anniversary of Paul’s death, and he helps me at the booth for a few hours each day during Bikes on the Beach, and he gives twenty-five percent of every helmet sold by Silver-Stone to the program.”

  “That’s incredible,” Dixie said, feeling guilty for having accused Jace of throwing money at the auction and not wanting to give his time to help o
thers. Now she understood how little time he had to give and the ways in which he was already helping so many. She glanced across the room at him, wondering why he hadn’t set her straight.

  She turned her attention back to Marly and said, “You’re incredible, too, Marly, for starting such a great program. I’m sure your brother is smiling down on you, proud of all you’ve done.”

  “I’d like to think so, but knowing Paul, he’s the one who dropped Jace in my path. He was a really good brother. I miss him.”

  Madigan set three glasses on the table and said, “Are we past the crying part?”

  “Part? That would be the whole story.” Dixie pointed to the empty glasses and said, “Did you get a little thirsty on the way over?”

  “No, she did not.” Conroy Wicked’s deep voice sailed over Dixie’s shoulder as he filled the glasses. His deep-set eyes glittered playfully. He was a tough biker with movie-star looks: a long, straight nose, wavy silver hair he wore long enough to brush his collar, and a warm smile that set off his dimples. The apples had not fallen far from the tree. All four of his children had inherited his killer dimples. Tank also shared their father’s burly stature, Dwayne was every bit as cocky as Conroy, and Baz shared their father’s ability to remain calm in any situation. Before the tragic loss of his daughter, Ashley had shared their father’s zest for life.

  Conroy set the pitcher on the table and said, “How’re three of my favorite girls? The guys get too rowdy for you?”

  “No. I was just getting to know Marly,” Dixie said.

  “She’s quite a gal.” He clapped a hand on Marly’s shoulder and said, “I’m surprised you two haven’t met before. She’s one of my honorary daughters.”

  “Aren’t all the girls around here your honorary daughters?” Madigan teased. “I swear, between my parents, Dixie’s parents, and you and Aunt Ginger, nobody within a fifty-mile radius of our town or of Peaceful Harbor could be parentless if they tried.”