Chapter 27

Faye

FOXX

I see that Lily stole my phone. Thank you for entertaining her. I really need to change my password.

Where did you run off to, Peach?

Cortez asked if I saw you too. Ditched him again? Guy must be a lousy date.

I’ll be at Ace’s tonight after the rodeo—I want to see you.

I don’t know how to respond. My mind has been consumed with what Maggie told me. I’ve been sitting in the bathroom stall for the entire length of the rodeo, feeling like I’m frozen. Cortez called me twice, but I wasn’t sure how to deal with him. There has to be more, but what I do know is that if the FBI has targeted someone, it wouldn’t just be Waz King. He’s a package deal. And that has me thinking back to what Cortez said, “A wider wingspan ... ”

I’ve played every detail that I could remember from that night and not a single time has any part of me thought that anyone other than my mom stabbed Tullis. I’m spiraling with this and the fact that I just believed something entirely wrong for the past five years. It has my heart aching and my stomach in knots. So I tell him exactly what I want.

FAYE

I want to see you too.

It might not be the entire town spread throughout the house and grounds of Ace and Griz Foxx’s home, but it damn well feels like it. I smooth my palms over my belted t-shirt, which I’ve worn plenty of times on stage as a dress, but here it feels a bit short. Shedding my jacket at the door, I hand it off to their very formal coat check. My purple cowgirl boots aren’t appropriate for a rodeo, but at an after party chock-full of masculinity and women just itching for attention, you bet your ass I’m wearing my favorite boots.

Every room I walk past is full of cowboy hats, but I’m looking for very specific eye candy. Specifically, one with glasses and a helluva dimple. In the sprawling kitchen, a larger huddle of bronco riders kicks back bourbon as Griz makes them laugh. His thick white mustache is tilted up, enjoying every minute of entertaining these guys. I can see why my mom would have been attracted to him. He’s a good-looking older man, but he’s the kind of guy who commands a room. All charm and charisma—Lincoln has the same way about him.

When I push through the next room and toward the outdoor space, it feels like a montage of a party. Only this one is splashed with rodeo cowboys, bourbon, and just the hint of something sexy in the air. Like not a single person is leaving here without drinking something good and a promise to get fucked. Truthfully, I want both of those things too.

Looking around, I spot Hadley perched on the outdoor bar, surrounded by a group of men. It makes me smile at the way she’s so easily become a friend.

“That’s her right now. Faye!” She waves her hand for me to come over. “This is by far the most talented—” Leaning into me, she says, “I’m sorry in advance for embarrassing you.” Then she sits higher and finishes her sentence. “AND sexiest burlesque dancer I have ever laid eyes on. If you haven’t been to Midnight Proof, this is your sign to see her before she leaves us.”

My stomach sinks at the idea of ending my time there.

One of the guys calls out, “She’s here now—how about a taste, darlin’?”

I’ve never understood why having someone’s attention while I dance is so empowering, but it is. There are so many ways to paint it ugly if someone wanted to, but truthfully, it just feels good. I smile at the man who tossed out the idea. “I might need a drink first.”

Hadley hands me a glass with one rock and at least two fingers of bourbon. The tawny color is a few shades lighter than the bottle I tasted with Lincoln, but I want a sip, nonetheless. As I move to take it from her, an arm comes from behind me—the smell of oak and tart cherries has me ready to lean into the arms I already know wrap so beautifully around my body, even before he plucks my glass from my hand. Lincoln clears his throat before addressing the small crowd around the dimly lit patio. “Faye actually prefers another way to drink her bourbon.”

I tilt my head back to see him and, dammit, I can’t help but smile at what he’s insinuating. The way his long sleeves are pushed up, revealing the start of his tattoo that dips just below the curve of his elbow, has me holding back a groan of appreciation. I know that tattoo. Where it curves and how it ends. The window panes that are beautiful and still unfinished and that hold so much meaning. Add how his dimples are pinned even as he goes in for a sip from the glass that was just mine, and I’m basically swooning.

I take it back before his lips reach the glass.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see one of the women who had been talking along the gates during the rodeo—the insinuation that if she wanted him, she could have him. I don't think so. Right now, Lincoln Foxx is mine.

I do well with an audience and I’m feeling bold—and slightly petty.

I step away from the heat of Lincoln’s body, standing so close behind me, and turn to him, raising my glass. “This actually tastes like the 1910, but maybe you can tell me for sure, Foxx.”

He smirks at me as I walk toward Hadley, still perched on the bar.

I give her a wink when I say, “I had a private tasting at the distillery...”

When I turn back to look at Lincoln, the way that man is looking at me...it’s like he wants to devour me and taste me all over again. I crook my finger at him in a come-hither motion as I strut slowly toward the center of the room.

Hadley turns up the music and the girls from earlier shift their weight, leaning to get a better view of what’s going on. Oh, ladies, just you wait ...

When Lincoln follows my direction and comes closer, he leans into my space and, just below my ear, whispers, “You’re so fucking sexy right now. Are you about to show all these people that I’m yours, Peach?”

It’s a resounding yes from the center of my chest to the tips of my fingers. I peer back and move my head up and down slowly, letting him know that’s exactly what I’m about to do.

“Do you trust me?” I ask, a little louder.

He chuckles, a sound I feel between my legs, and looks around the space. “Yeah, Peach, I do.”

I don’t know what I was expecting him to say, but his affirmation urges me on. I tilt my chin up and smirk at him before I say, “Good. On your knees, Foxx.”

The hoots and hollers that direction gets from around the space makes me bite my lip to hold back a wide smile. And even then, a small one still escapes.

Hadley whistles and throws a pillow from the bar stool, nailing him right in his face, making him bark out a laugh.

He’s so much taller than I am that even as he lowers to one knee, and then the other, he’s just shy of eye-level with me. “If you all want a burlesque show, then you can come to Midnight Proof and be a paying customer. But right now”—I can’t help the smile that teases out as I look down at Lincoln. He watches me as I address the little audience we’ve gathered—“we’re at Foxx Bourbon. And I’ve had the luxury of a master distiller showing me exactly how best to appreciate good bourbon.”

His eyes lock with mine, and he huffs out a laugh, knowing exactly what I’m planning.

“Tilt the glass and take note of the color.” I tilt my glass into the light from the fire tables surrounding the space. “Then you’re going to want to give it a nice little Kentucky chew.” Taking a small sip, I swirl it around my mouth. A few whistles sing out from the small crowd as his hands run up the backs of my thighs and settle just beneath the hem of my dress, leaving delicious goosebumps behind.

I erase whatever space is left between us as I nudge the lower half of my body into his chest, his hands dragging up and down the backs of my thighs, pulling me in and encouraging me to get even closer. I take a breath through my nose and swallow. “Let her coat your mouth, maybe even enjoy that burn a little bit before she feels ready to slide down your throat.”

The mood shifts from rowdy conversation to the kind of sexy I get off on. I glance at the two women who had no problem talking about all the things they want to do with this man, and I smile at their wide eyes.

I let my eyes flit from them down to him. “Ready for your tasting, Foxx?”

His dimples peek out from his quick smile, but he doesn’t say anything. Instead, he tilts his head back just as I slide my hand behind his neck. My fingers graze his hairline, moving them high enough to tangle and find a grip. I tilt the glass against my lips, drain what’s left of the bourbon, then tip his head back just how I want it.

His arms hug around my thighs as the spice and heat hit my tongue, and then his mouth opens for me just as I tilt forward. Erasing the space between our lips, I give him exactly what I promised—a taste of bourbon. But he doesn’t stop the momentum. His plush, wet lips meet mine and it lights every fuse in my body. I ignore the drips that escape down my chin and the crowd around us that was quiet mere moments before our lips connected erupts in hoots and whistles. I’m lost in the way he didn’t shy away from making a scene. And the fact that this will have plenty of people talking about it long after we leave.

He swallows down every drop I give him, and then makes sure not a single person misinterprets what we’re doing together. His tongue plays with mine as he tilts his head back and pulls me as tightly against his kneeling body as possible.

It’s why I don’t expect him to stand so quickly and hoist me up and over his shoulder. A screaming laugh escapes my mouth as he says, “If you’ll excuse us.” Then he’s walking us through the house and right out the front door. I barely catch who we walk by, but I don’t miss the way Maggie stares at the spectacle. She was talking with Griz and the barrel racer from earlier. I hear Griz call out, “’Bout damn time!”

Lincoln tilts his chin to Griz and mumbles under his breath, “Old man thinks he’s a damn matchmaker.”

He hustles down the porch stairs, and I can’t help but laugh as he slaps my ass when his boots hit the pavement. “You can put me down now.”

“Not a fucking chance,” he says as he opens the passenger door to his Jeep. Sliding me from his shoulder, down his chest, he kisses my lips, speaking against them. “Do you know how fucking hot it was to be claimed like that?” His fingers dive into my hair, and he devours my mouth in a way that shows me exactly how it made him feel. A way that has my chest fluttering and knees weakening. Pulling back, his forehead rests against mine as he grinds into me, with my legs half wrapped around him as I’m perched on the seat of his truck. “Eight minutes.”

“What happens in eight minutes?” I smile against his lips as I take another kiss.

“Until I’ll have you in my bed, grinding your pussy on my face, and reminding me what my new favorite thing tastes like.”

I hum out my approval and sit back in the passenger seat as he closes my door and hustles to his side, throwing the Jeep in reverse and hauling out of the driveway.

He glances at me as he wraps his hand around my thigh, spreading my legs. “I would have thought your favorite thing was bourbon,” I say playfully. I’ve had barely anything to drink, yet I feel dazed by this. The proximity of him, the way he grips me, looks at me, craves me so palpably.

“Then you haven’t been paying attention, Peach.” His tongue wets his lower lip, one arm draped on the steering wheel, the other holding on to me like he can’t not touch right now. “You know I can’t stop thinking about you?”

I turn my body slightly so my back is pressing against the passenger door, making my dress ride high as I spread my legs open for him. “And what are you thinking about when you do?”

He does a double take and laughs like he can’t believe what’s about to happen. “Oh Peach, are you going to give me a private show?”

Without thinking, I let the words fall from my lips. “I’ll give you anything you want, Foxx. You just have to ask.”

“And if I ask for more?” His eyes flick to me, then the road, and back again.

My stomach swoops. The way I feel when I’m with him isn’t something I’m ready to define. I just know he’s who I want to be with tonight. Maybe longer than that.

“You’re looking at me like that’s a complicated question, Peach.”

“You know it is. This...is complicated. You have a whole life with kids and...” I look around the cab for a second as a wave of vulnerability washes over me. “You have a dog and a cow, for fuck’s sake. I don’t even have an apartment that’s mine. More sounds?—”

I’m cut off as he jerks the wheel and pulls over to the side of the road, unbuckling his seatbelt and sliding closer. His hands move over the tops of my legs and then glide under my thighs to yank me toward him as I gasp. “I haven’t wanted anyone the way I want you. It’s reckless, and I don’t have an explanation about why or how. I just know that I like the way you make me feel.”

“How do I make you feel?” I cover my eyes as soon as I say it, because I’m suddenly embarrassed for being this woman—overeager for validation and pushy for more than he’s ready to give.

But he stops me, pulling my hand away and tilting my chin up to look at him. The blue lights from the dashboard are dim, but he smiles at me. It’s sweet and something about it is different from the other smiles he’s given me. “Look at me.”

I do as he asks.

“You make me feel like I don’t need to pretend when I’m around you. That I can be exactly who I am without being anything other than a man infatuated with a beautiful woman.”

“Infatuated?” I say teasingly, biting the inside of my lip to hold back some of my smile.

He nods but doesn’t stop there. Moving my hair behind my ear, he cuffs the strands around it gently. “I want a woman who has no agenda other than to help the people she loves. I want to be the kind of man who’s good enough for a woman like that.”

I lean my head to the side, letting it rest on the leather seat. “You just went there.”

“Yeah. I just went there.” He smiles confidently. “You scared yet?”

“Since the moment you called me Peach,” I answer truthfully. It’s really hard not to let butterflies overrun my system when he’s looking at me like this—his flirty dimple out and eyes searching mine to tell him I want him the same way that he wants me.

“I meant what I said. I’m not the same after having you. But if it’s too much, I’ll understand. I have two amazing kids. And apparently, animals now,” he says jokingly. “A wise-ass grandfather. Brothers who I wouldn’t have survived without. A town that thinks we’re cursed—which is another fucking hurdle that I’m not sure I’m entirely over. And a bourbon business that’s draining and so fucking hard sometimes...but it defines everything about me.”

“Not everything,” I whisper. I smile as I make a choice. “You’re intensely wonderful with your tongue...”

He leans back with slightly narrowed eyes, knowing that’s as far as I’ll go right now. I’m not ready to tell him what I want. Truthfully, I don’t know. “And?” he teases.

“And your hands.” I run my fingers along my neck. “Your fingers, and the way you know exactly what’ll make me feel good. Just thinking about all the ways you can play with me...”

He leans forward and wraps his hand behind me, pulling me toward his lips so he can kiss me. It’s not sweet or soft. There’s nothing hesitant about it. His tongue slides along mine, and I feel it across my skin and straight down to my pussy. But instead of more, he pulls back with a panted breath, then rights himself in the driver’s seat. “You better tell me you want me, Peach.”

“Yeah, Foxx. I want you.”

Pulling into the lane, he floors it. “Good. Now pull your panties aside and let me see how much.”

I have to smile at that direction. The man can go from serious to sexy in a blink. In one breath, telling me I’ve changed him, and in the next, accepting where I’m at with whatever it is we’re doing. Maybe it’s the fact that he’s older, or that he’s had an entire life before I ever came into it, but I like it.

The shiver his words create works up my arms, and I do what he asks once more, baring myself to him.

He basically growls, “Give me a taste.”

“You’re dirty, Foxx,” I say, smiling and dragging two fingers through my pussy lips.

“Yeah, but you like getting messy for me, don’t you, Peach?”

I move so that I can give him what he’s demanded. Kneeling on the seat, I take my wet fingers and bring them to his mouth, but when he goes to open, I pull them away, taunting. I tsk, and instead of letting him lick them clean, I swipe them across his lower lip.

But before I can play anymore, he grabs my wrist and pulls my fingers into his mouth. The way he hums and swipes his tongue across the pads of my skin has my body craving more and winding tighter toward what’s coming.

“Fuck,” he groans. He pulls the middle seatbelt strap and buckles me in before he floors it down the road I grew up on. It’s only another minute or so before he’s pulling into the driveway and circling around the front of his truck, swinging my door open and holding his hand out for me.

“Where are the girls?” I hadn’t thought about the fact that they would be here.

He stops me in the doorway and kisses me—long enough that I feel a little dizzy and short enough that it leaves me wanting more. When he pulls away, he weaves his fingers with mine and says, “Grant and Laney took them and Kit tonight.”

We move inside and he guides me past the stairs, through the living room, and down the hall toward a guest suite on the ground floor. Flipping the lights, he dims them just a pinch and hands me his phone. “Tonight, the only thing I get to think about and take care of is you.”

He reaches behind his head and pulls at the collar of his shirt, whipping it off and tossing it aside. A shirtless Lincoln Foxx sizing up what he wants from me as he undoes his belt buckle is a sight I’ll never forget.

“Whatever I want?” he asks, reiterating what I had promised. Not a single part of me has any interest in taking that back. So I lean against the door as he walks toward the bed, sitting on the edge, legs spread wide.

“Whatever you want.”