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To discovering that you’re allowed to fall in love as many times as possible in your lifetime. Whether it’s with a new lover or an old friend. Whether it’s with the same person, but new versions of each other as you grow. Fucking fall. Do it loudly. Do it at your own pace. Rush. Ease in. Enjoy an instant lust, a slow burn, or a happy for now. Rebound. Fall again. And if you’re craving a little something extra…
Lincoln Foxx has a few creative suggestions during your discovery. They may include some bourbon…
Every bourbon is whiskey, but not every whiskey is bourbon.
In Fiasco, Kentucky, there’s one more rule that loosely relates to the bourbon that’s made there: Never fall for a Foxx brother.
“That if you believe in something, listen to your gut, it’ll work out in the end.”
He barely glances at me, but with his attention on his daughters, I take advantage and my eyes wander. In the broad light of day, Lincoln Foxx is beyond handsome. A full head of dark hair, which is a luxury for most men dancing around forty. I always remembered him as more clean shaven, but now his sideburns blend into stubble. Everyone who has a pulse feels his confidence and more than recognizes that he’s the prettiest Foxx. And somehow, he’s improved. Light blue eyes behind dark-framed glasses make me want his attention even more. Why I didn’t tell him to fuck off the other night is beside
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“She has a matching beauty mark.” Lily points to the right apple of her cheek. “It’s like we’re soulmates.”
“Is that a knife strapped to your leg?”
She quirks an eyebrow. “Did you just think I was happy to see you, Foxx?”
“You don’t know the first thing about me,” I tell her, my voice coming out gruffer than I’d like. Her chin tips back as my attention flicks to her pursed lips, lingering there. “Because if you did, you would know that I don’t ask. I don’t take well to threats. And I don’t forget.” I tilt my head to the side, to see if she has anything to say back to that. But I’m met with silence. “And I’m the furthest thing from happy to see you.” Leaning in closer, my mouth hovers over hers. “So I’ll say it again, Peach. I don’t want you here.”
She looks out her side window, past the rickhouses and toward the flat quiet landscape of our hometown. “What would you do if you didn’t do this?”
The question surprises me, but I have no problem answering her truthfully. “I never imagined doing anything else. That’s the one thing that my brothers never understood. How I couldn’t want more than what I’d always known.” I glance at her. Her attention stays fixated on each part of the property that we pass. “At one point, they both did something else for a little while. Eventually, they came back. But I’m the exception. I’ve always known what I wanted. Always knew that I’d spend every day here until my last. Even when things are . . .” I let the thought linger for a moment. I don’t want to
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“Oh, what’s the matter, Foxx? Are you jealous? Or are you more of a prude than everyone thinks?”
“Nah, Peach. I’m not jealous.” I lean into her ear, the same way she had done to me moments ago. “You and I both know that if I wanted you, you’d let me have you.” Keeping my finger hooked in her skirt, she’s not able to pull away. I run the knuckle of my finger back and forth along the slip of skin under the waistband. “Wouldn’t you?”
When she finally lets go, she turns her back to me with a flick of her hand, like that was the only thing I wanted from her. Fuck. It should be. I got my phone back. I can go back to the bar and find my friend. But it’s not. I scrub my hand across the stubble on my chin and over my mouth as my gaze travels over her again, now that she’s paying me no attention. There are a thousand reasons why walking away is the logical choice. But I’ve done logical and expected, cavalier and thankless. Right now, I just want her. Fuck it.
My lips ghost along her neck, and in response, she grinds her ass back into my cock. I hold her tighter against me as a couple walking by at the end of the alley laughs. Fucking hell, this is reckless.
“Tell me this is okay, Peach.”
“Don’t you fucking stop,” she says on an exhale.
“You like this, don’t you?” I nip at the skin below her ear. “I think you more than like it. I think you want me to give you more. Do you want more?”
“Beg me for my fingers, Peach.”
“You don’t want a nice girl right now, Foxx.”
“What do I want, then, hmm?”
A small moan crawls up her throat as she says, “You want someone to tell you to be a good bo...
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I slow down as punishment. “Is that what you think? That I need your praise and f...
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“Please, oh fuck. Please, give me more, or I’m going to do it myself.”
“You’re not allowed to touch yourself right now. That’s what you just begged me to do.” Leaning in, I run my nose along her neck. “So you’ll take what I give you.”
“You sound so pretty when you’re pissed off and moaning for me.” I can feel her smile before I see it.
“You’re pretty when you’re pissed off too, Foxx. Too bad I couldn’t get you to moan for me this time.”
Jesus, what is it about a man like that in glasses?
The funny part is, I want to believe my own words. Since I left Fiasco, each decision I’ve made has had a purpose—a well thought-out plan and path to either complete a job or preserve a sliver of calculated enjoyment in my life. But a handful of days back here and plans suddenly feel incomplete and riddled with detours. One very specific one stands a few feet away, with glasses and a devious smile that makes my insides melt and renders me stereotypically stupid. A quiet, buried part of me kicks alive when I’m around him. And the worst part is, I like that feeling.
“Believe me when I say that I’ve tried to forget. But those sounds you made . . . The way you came so beautifully for me . . .” He lets out a small laugh, and my stomach swoops. “That’s not something a man forgets.” When he moves a few inches closer, I have to suppress a shiver. “So no, I didn’t forget your name. You’re making that really fucking hard for me.”
“I know you’re watching me walk away,” I call out as I turn my head to the side.
“Hard not to when you consider how much I liked watching you come,” he says, far too loudly.
Can you be considered unhinged if you know what you’re about to do is exactly that? Stupidly unhinged.
Yeah, brother, this one is mine.
Yeah, Peach, I want to kiss you too.
“We both know this isn’t a good idea,” I tell her, but it doesn’t sound the least bit convincing.
“You’re right. It isn’t,” she says on an exhale. But her words die off when her fingers curl and she fists my shirt, pulling me into her. She holds on to me like the last thing she wants is to stop or let go.
“Totally appropriate conversations happening in here among the girls,” Ace says as he pulls down rocks glasses from one of the cabinets. Hadley doesn’t miss a beat. “You’re going to have to do a little more than roll your eyes and grind those teeth, if you want to call me your girl, Daddy.” Laney and I look at each other, eyes wide. I keep my facial expression neutral because, as much as I want to laugh, Ace looks unamused, and Hadley looks like she’s ready to word spar. “I said THE girls, Hadley,” he says, walking over to the counter to bring the fruit salad that Laney just finished to the
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OBSESSED WITH THEM! CANT WAIT FOR THEIR BOOK
“You call me Peach like I’m sweet, but Foxx, you know better. I’m the furthest thing from sweet.”
“See, that’s where you’re wrong.” I yank her hips forward. The move jerks her closer and forces her chest to press into mine. “I’ve never tasted anything as sweet as what you dripped all over my fingers.”
“Interesting seeing you here, Atticus. I wasn’t expecting another businessman like myself attending this event.” Ace lets out a small sniff, a laugh I know is more annoyance than anything else. “We both know I’m nothing like you.” “Be nice, Foxxy. Let’s not forget how much you both enjoy things that belong to me,” he says as he smiles at the bartender. I swear I hear my brother practically growl at that comment. But I answer because my best friend deserves more respect than that. “If you’re speaking of your daughter, then I’ll kindly ask that you remember Hadley doesn’t belong to you.”
My chest tightens at the thought. As much as I want to get out of here—I scan the room for her again—there’s no way I’m leaving without her.
As she rests her elbows on the bar, she says, “Outside of making bourbon, I think rules can be dangerous.”
I’ve looked at her in so many different lights and lenses. “Almost as dangerous as secrets.”
She smiles as her eyes search mine. “But you and I tend to have some of those, don’t we?”
“What should we toast to? Punches and pepper spray?”
“To bourbon and secrets.”
“To bourbon and secrets,” I repeat and clink her glass. “You’re going to take a small sip, just letting it coat your mouth. And your tongue.”
“When you’re ready to tell me all of them. Every last secret you have, Faye Calloway, then I’ll listen. But I don’t want just parts of your story anymore. Right now, I’d rather have a drink with a very sexy, very beautiful woman.”
