Bourbon Springs Box Set: Volume II, Books 4-6 (Bourbon Springs Box Sets Book 2)

by Jennifer Bramseth

“Well, she was my girlfriend, I guess. For barely half a day, until you decided to show up.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  Walker turned and glared. “She saw your text.”

  “So that’s why you were so upset? That innocent text?

  “Yes,” he said. “And don’t tell me it was so damned innocent.”

  “What the hell are you talking about? All I did was—”

  “After bumping into you at the distillery, I had to tell CiCi who you were and that you’d probably be working at Old Garnet in the very near future. That wasn’t an easy conversation to have. And then she saw your text within half an hour.”

  “So she likes to snoop on your phone?” Jana sniped. “Rather possessive girlfriend. Sure you can trust her?”

  “She didn’t snoop. The phone got knocked to the floor, and the text appeared when she was picking it up. And she’s damned more trustworthy than some people I know.”

  “Sure she is,” Jana said without any conviction in her voice.

  “Where the hell do you get off judging her?”

  “Since she snooped on your phone and saw my private message to you.”

  “Like you can claim any privilege when it comes to me anymore.”

  Walker rose from his seat, tired of being in Jana’s presence.

  “Where are you going?” she asked as he stood.

  “Away from you,” he said. “I don’t want to be anywhere near you.”

  “Don’t be childish, Walker. Sit. I’ll behave and be quiet.”

  “You go to hell.” He rose, went to the other side of the courtroom, and found a seat near the back.

  * * *

  Auditors in the conference room?

  Check.

  A/C guys working on the outside units?

  Check.

  Hotter than hell?

  Check.

  Critter control in the attic?

  Check.

  Smells like a dinosaur crapped right on top of the courthouse?

  Check.

  Craig Circuit Court Clerk generally pissed at the entire world?

  Check.

  CiCi was sitting in the relative seclusion of her office. Since she was the elected clerk and the boss, she had the luxury of a real office with real walls. Her deputies sat out in a common area with an open floor plan behind a tall counter where people came to file their documents. Usually CiCi wasn’t in her office that much; she was often busy helping her deputies, walking around the courthouse tending to various matters with the judges or maintenance crew, or talking to the attorneys, sheriff’s deputies, jailers, and the other people who traipsed in and out of the Craig County Courthouse on a regular basis. She was by nature and necessity a social butterfly, and she rarely confined herself to her office.

  But on that Monday morning, CiCi was happy for the isolation her office offered, and she actually closed her door, a clear sign to her staff that she was in no mood to chat and did not want to be bothered.

  In other words: fuck off.

  Nevertheless, she sensed she needed to be doing something, although what that something might be she couldn’t figure out. CiCi was usually the one in the middle of things in the courthouse, solving problems, dealing with people, talking up a storm. But she didn’t feel like playing the role of the spunky, helpful clerk that day.

  She sat and stared at the muted video monitor perched atop her desk that showed the activity in the courtroom on the floor above. She rarely turned off the audio on her feed, but the silence comforted her that morning. Flickering on the tiny screen for her viewing pleasure were images of Walker and Jana smiling and chatting and looking perfectly companionable. She couldn’t stop looking at the two of them, although CiCi realized that on some level she was torturing herself.

  Yet something about that perversely perfect picture of those two sitting together wasn’t so perfect. They were smiling, but Walker and Jana appeared to be making an effort not to look at each other—especially Walker. She’d seen scenes like this before in the courtroom, oddly enough. Two people sitting next to each other, looking angry and tense. She’d witnessed arguments erupt with the bailiffs having to get involved. One time, she’d spotted the problem on the monitor before the disagreement had gotten out of hand and had even called down to the courtroom to alert the bailiffs to the problem. Despite her sharp eye, the call was too late; by the time a bailiff answered, the two jurors in question were already on their feet and fists were flying.

  Her clerk’s instincts took over, and she pulled the monitor closer and studied Walker. CiCi had been around him enough to know the expression he was wearing was not his natural smile. She flicked off the mute, and decided to find out whether she could pick up any snatches of conversation.

  “…I’ll grant you that she’s cute, but I’m not so sure…”

  “That innocent text?…”

  “You go to hell…”

  She almost stood up and cheered when Walker abandoned Jana and went across the courtroom to sit in front of the other counsel table.

  But then Jana got up from her seat and followed Walker across the courtroom and took a seat next to him. CiCi couldn’t tear her eyes away, even though her fingers rested on the controls of the monitor, ready to flick it off at a moment’s notice.

  “Do that again and I’ll ask the bailiff to remove you,” Walker said through clenched teeth after Jana had positioned herself next to him once more in the courtroom. “Get the message: I don’t want to be around you. Leave me the hell alone.”

  “Walker, this is ridiculous why can’t we…”

  And he got up for the second time, this time moving far to the back of the courtroom to park himself very near Deputy Carver, who was standing at the door.

  CiCi laughed out loud rather than cheering when she heard Walker tell his ex to leave him alone (thank goodness those microphones at the counsel table were so good!). And if need be, CiCi knew she could definitely arrange for Ms. Pogue to be removed from the courtroom—or at least admonished to cease her harassment of Walker. CiCi allowed her mind to wander; she soon was lost in a daydream where she was telling Judge Craft how a juror was pestering another and that something ought to be done.

  “Bailiff, please bring that juror—the redheaded lady—up to the bench,” Judge Craft intoned in CiCi’s fantasy. “We need to have a little talk…”

  She laughed, full of relief. Her qualms about Walker which had arisen once Jana had entered the picture over the weekend had been defeated by his unequivocal rejection of his ex.

  Impulsively, CiCi texted him before she could talk herself out of it.

  Meet me at the doughboy statue outside after you’re done?

  She waited nervously for a response, but then realized that she wouldn’t get one until after orientation was over; Judge Craft banned the use of cell phones in his courtroom, even for texting purposes.

  So she had to wait.

  * * *

  Orientation seemed to take twice as long as Walker thought necessary and finally drew to a close around eleven o’clock. He’d given up the idea of talking to CiCi that day and bolted out the nearby courtroom door, happy to be done with his civic duty for the moment and anxious to get away from Jana. In his haste, he didn’t check his messages until he was across the street and nearly to his car.

  CiCi’s text nearly made his heart stop, and he almost dropped his phone in the rush to respond.

  You bet.

  He recrossed the street, passing Jana in the crosswalk as he returned to the courthouse square. Jana gave him a curious look, but said nothing and went on her way.

  When Walker cleared the edge of the courthouse and saw the small parklike area to the northern side, he immediately spotted the doughboy statue and CiCi. She was sitting on a concrete bench with her legs crossed, looking away from him at a group of prisoners who were being led through a side door of the courthouse in orange jumpsuits, leg shackles, and handcuffs.

  She turned and saw him app
roaching and rose from the bench to greet him with a smile.

  “How was orientation?” she asked.

  “Tedious.”

  CiCi nodded and looked nervous. “I… um… saw you on the monitor with Jana.”

  “You were watching?” he asked.

  “Yes. And I could also hear your conversation through the feed too,” she said. “I’m sorry, but when I saw you on the monitor you looked unhappy, out of sorts. I could tell something was really wrong. So I admit it. I turned up the volume and listened.”

  He was taken aback by her news but then realized it was the best thing that could’ve happened. “Jana can be charming and sweet—but not always. She has another side.”

  “So I saw and heard.” She retook her seat and he joined her. “And speaking as the Craig Circuit Court Clerk to a juror, I’m sorry she put you in such a bad spot during orientation.” She explained that she usually had the sound on the monitor on when at her desk and that she’d turned up the volume when she’d sensed something was wrong. “I’ve spotted problems between jurors just by watching and listening to the feed from the courtroom.”

  He shrugged. “I dealt with it, so it’s over. Let’s forget it. So… have you thought any further about that date?”

  “The Tavern? Yes, but what about this Saturday instead of waiting another week?”

  “Sounds great.” He grinned and then looked at his watch. “Is it too early to take you to lunch?”

  “Not at all.” She rose from the bench. “Let’s go to Over a Barrel. I think they have their famous chicken salad today—at least that’s what I overheard one of the sheriff’s deputies talking about earlier.”

  Walker stood and took her hand. “So are you my girlfriend again?”

  “Maybe,” she said with a shy smile.

  “When will I know your decision?”

  “I’m pretty sure my answer will be unmistakably clear,” she said. “But right now, I need to go back inside to get my purse so we can grab a bite to eat. Wait here and I’ll—”

  CiCi’s cell phone rang in a distinctive tone, and she explained it was one of her deputies.

  “Yeah?” she answered wearily, giving an apologetic look to Walker. “How can that be? Did they say when they’d be back?” CiCi demanded and took a few steps away from Walker. “Well, okay, I’ll be right there.”

  “Duty calls?”

  “I’m afraid so. The cleanup crew in the basement says they have to leave to go to another emergency—like this whole courthouse isn’t one—and I need to get down to the basement to see what they’ve accomplished before they leave.”

  She briefly explained about the water leak and the damage to some basement files.

  “Can I come along?” Walker asked. “When I was in college, I worked part-time for one of those cleanup outfits. I might be able to spot whether they’ve done all they can do.”

  CiCi took Walker up on his offer, and in a few minutes they were in the basement of the courthouse. Walker roamed around the large room filled with boxes of old files, giving the area a quick review while CiCi talked with the foreman of the cleanup crew. Walker then took CiCi aside and told her that he thought they’d done a thorough job. Armed with the benefit of this information, CiCi dismissed the crew, and they were left alone.

  “I’d better go check the evidence vault again,” CiCi declared and marched out of the basement storage room.

  Walker followed CiCi down the basement hall until it ended and turned to the right; to their immediate left was an ancient-looking dark wooden door. CiCi pulled out a large ring of keys from her pocket and unlocked a series of formidable brass locks before the door swung open to admit them.

  “We’d already cleared this room as being untouched by the leak, but I wanted to check again. Not sure I trust any of the plumbing in this old place anymore,” she explained to Walker as the door closed behind them.

  “What is this place?” he asked and looked at the rows of shelving. It reminded him of a rickhouse, except that instead of barrels of bourbon there were objects like guns, knives, shovels, and dusty boxes which contained things he probably didn’t want to see.

  “Where we keep old evidence,” she said, briskly walking up and down the two aisles to inspect the walls and floors. “Looks like everything is okay in here.”

  On the right was an old couch that had seen better days along with a low coffee table.

  He pointed to the objects. “Was that furniture evidence?”

  “No,” CiCi said and laughed. She walked over to the couch and put a hand on the back of it. “A former judge used to like to come down here and take naps,” she said. “Nice and cool and hardly anyone is in here. In fact, only clerks usually come down here to store the evidence.” She giggled. “Although I have heard a story about Rachel and Brady getting trapped in here right after they’d both gotten appointed to the bench. And I’ve also heard stories that they sneak in here from time to time on their lunch hour.”

  “Creepy place to get trapped.” It was straight out of a cheap horror flick: bad lighting, all kinds of potential weapons, and a remote location.

  “I don’t think they found it creepy,” CiCi said, her gaze fixed upon the couch.

  Walker spun, looking at the door and then back to CiCi. “Wait—you said they got trapped in here? As in locked in?”

  CiCi nodded and smiled mischievously. “Yep. One of the custodians interrupted—er—found them. It was after hours, and they thought they’d be stuck in here all night. But the custodian came inside to sweep because he’d forgotten to do it the night before.”

  Walker went to the door, fearing they’d been locked in like the two judges. He tugged at the door, but it wouldn’t budge.

  “Um, I think the same fate has befallen us.”

  “Maybe that’s not such a bad thing,” CiCi muttered to herself.

  “What?”

  “Nothing, nothing. We’re not locked in,” she said and walked to the door. “Look, I’ve got my keys.” She dangled the key ring in front of her face, letting the keys jangle as she shook it.

  Then she looked at the door and turned one of the locks.

  “If we’re already locked in, why did you just lock the door again?”

  Smirking, she threw her keys on the coffee table and cast a quick look at the couch.

  “I just made sure no one can get in,” she said.

  “So you just locked the whole world out?”

  She nodded and stepped closer to him. “After Brady and Rachel got locked in, we changed the locks. But Brady made a request right after he got elected that the door have a lock on it so it could be locked from the inside. Now why would he have wanted such a thing do you think?”

  Walker burst out laughing. “You said the custodian interrupted Rachel and Brady? Was that the right word?”

  “That’s how he described it to me,” CiCi said proudly. “Wormed it out of him after their relationship became public.”

  Walker smiled and glanced at the couch. “You know what? I found a softer place.”

  11

  She blinked at him, baffled. “What?”

  Smiling, Walker grabbed CiCi by the forearms and spun her onto the couch and onto her back. He then fell on top of her and brought his mouth down on hers, smothering her laughter.

  CiCi drew her arms around him, delighted to feel Walker against her again—and also delighted that a hard limestone wall was not digging into her backside. His mouth moved from her lips to her neck where he began to suck and tickle her with his tongue. CiCi fleetingly worried about him leaving a mark on the delicate skin, but her concerns were quickly driven from her mind when he kissed her again and drew his tongue along her lower lip.

  He gently broke the kiss. “Think the judges will mind us borrowing their love nest?”

  “Not at all,” she said breathlessly.

  “Their story certainly had a happy ending.”

  “And our story got interrupted the other day,” she said. “I think
we need to pick up where we left off, don’t you?”

  His answer was to kiss her again, then sit up and slowly slide his hands under her shirt until the tips of his fingers found the edge of her bra. He wiggled them underneath the fabric until his full hands were over both breasts and CiCi was writhing and moaning beneath him. Walker then moved his hands around to her back where he deftly unhooked her bra.

  “Smooth,” she said in panting admiration.

  “I do have my talents,” he said, lowering himself over her once more. He pushed up the shirt and her bra until her full breasts were exposed to him.

  With his palms and fingers splayed over her breasts but eyes on her face, Walker gently caressed her; their eyes locked, and the air was no longer cool but warm and charged. He bent to kiss her, then moved lower, with his mouth falling over the full areola of one breast. After momentarily surrendering to the pleasures he brought her, she grabbed Walker’s head, pulling his lips from her chest.

  “Okay,” she said, gasping, “it’s official. You’re my boyfriend. Not that you really needed confirmation of that fact.”

  “I’m hoping to be more than that to you,” he said and kissed her hard on the lips.

  She pressed her breasts to him as she tugged and pulled at his pants, pushing the shirt up until their bare chests were together. Walker shuddered against her and ground his growing erection against the top of her thigh.

  He returned his mouth to her breasts again while one hand moved under her skirt and then up her bare thigh. When he reached her hip, his hand stopped.

  “A thong?” he asked. “You?”

  “Yeah, it’s freakin’ hot. Haven’t you noticed?”

  “No complaints here.” He brushed aside the scant fabric between her legs.

  CiCi’s head fell back against the cushions of the couch, and she gasped as Walker began to explore and stroke her.

  “And no complaints here either,” she whispered. CiCi closed her eyes and wholly abandoned herself to Walker’s touch.

  He slowly and mercilessly stroked her before slipping fingers into her wetness, and she clenched around him as he rubbed his thumb against her pert clit. CiCi began to thrust and buck her hips against his hand, and he teased her by moving that thumb in slow circles over her most sensitive spot.