Page 12 of Whiskey Proposal

She narrows her eyes on me, and a faint “Jesus” comes from Brooks.

“You always impress me, Lane Foster,” she says sweetly, but if looks could kill, I’d be a smoking pile of ash.

“I bet Cruz is thrilled.” Claudia scans the room and confusion darkens her eyes.

I have no one here. I help run the Foster House Gold site with my brother Cruz and the three Hennessy brothers, yet I’m here with two people who haven’t set foot inside city limits for twenty years.

Emerson chews on the inside of her cheek and looks down. Brooks crosses to Hillary. Are they realizing they’re not the only ones dragged into the mess Hutch created?

Today isn’t about me. It’s about what I want. My family and my friends, who are basically family, can wait for the real thing. I won’t lie to them about what’s going on. The rest of the town can think I found love and dragged her back home. It’ll help save face with Emerson and Brooks. “He’s going to be. We’re surprising everyone after the fact. You know what a big deal these things can turn into.”

“Ohmigosh, yes. With your crew?” Her laughter chimes through the office. “Aren’t they the best?”

Again, her question’s aimed at Emerson. Claudia needs to get on with the ceremony.

Emerson’s eyes widen.

I don’t like lies, but there’ll be enough speculation. I can give a half-truth. “I met Emerson in Denver. She hasn’t had a chance to do the meet and greets yet. Whirlwind romance and all that.”

Claudia’s smile only grows. “Oh, well. Then we’d better not delay. Come on back.”

The justice of the peace is fast and efficient. Hillary nudges herself right next to Emerson and clutches her hand moments before I take them in mine. Emerson’s skin is warm and soft and her grip slack. This isn’t the woman who strutted into the main distillery a month ago.

Brooks rubs the back of his neck, eyeing us dubiously. He doesn’t like it, but taking care of his daughter overrides the protective older brother inside him.

Her I do is a whisper. I make mine firm. As much as I want to gather her in my arms for the kiss and have a repeat of the night we met, I keep the kiss respectful. When I pull away, her eyes stay closed for a heartbeat longer. Then she meets my gaze and her stare turns to steel.

She can try to keep her distance. She can tell herself that this won’t last. Her mom left. Her dad neglected her. And while she has Brooks, she has no one who will put her above anyone else. But that’s my job now.

Emerson

I’m married.

Married.

And I’m hungry.

Married and hungry. I don’t feel different, but everything’s changed.

I pull into Lane’s driveway behind his equally nice pickup. The only consolation about the quality shit associated with the man is that his pickup’s covered in dust, and bug splatter spots the windshield.

Lane parks outside his two-car garage. Only two stalls? He has the space for five, but then there’s the giant shop on the other side of the drive. He really does have everything.

The cattle are encased in the same newer, neat fencing that lines the pastures on the way here. Those cattle are his. The man ranches too. As if he needs help getting hotter. If Lane Foster puts on a cowboy hat, I might spontaneously impregnate.

I park next to him since this is my home for an undetermined amount of time. Hopefully weeks, not months. Brooks plants his truck right behind Lane, like he wants to make sure I’m not blocked in.

Too late.

My brother doesn’t want to leave my side, and I don’t want him to go. I get out and panting is the first thing I hear, along with a steady thwump against my car. When I turn, my heels grinding into the concrete pad, the Australian shepherd I saw earlier waits for me, tongue lolling out.

“Hello, gorgeous.” Her fur is soft and a small giggle leaves me. I miss having pets. All my apartments have been pet-free, and I haven’t made enough to buy a decent house in Denver. No backyard chickens for me.

“That’s Lady.” The fondness in Lane’s voice matches his expression. Of course he adores dogs.

A guy can seem perfect and turn out to be a . . . dog.

Feeling better, I straighten. Lady hears my niece scramble out and dashes for her. Giggles fill the air.