Truly, Madly, Whiskey

by Melissa Foster

  “Someone has to provide for you,” Jed snapped.

  “Jesus, Jed. Please tell me you are not giving her money.” Crystal couldn’t get lost in that right now; she was too pissed at what her mother had said. “Dad wasn’t a liar.” She crossed her arms, unwilling to fight the familiar battle. Her mother claimed her father had promised her a good life. It wasn’t his fault he’d gotten laid off. Wasn’t that what loving someone “for better or worse” meant? Sticking it out through the tough times? He’d given them all a good life, and he’d loved them. It wasn’t his fault that at the first sign of trouble their mother had started drinking. She’d never understood what more her mother could have wanted, and at this point she simply didn’t care.

  Her mother pulled the cigarette from her mouth to speak, and Jed put a hand on her arm. “Mom, don’t.”

  “Okay, you know what?” Crystal gritted her teeth. “I didn’t come here to listen to you berate Jed or Dad.”

  “Why did you come here?” her mother challenged.

  “I ask myself that question every time I visit.” She looked away. “Some sort of warped sense of loyalty, I suppose.”

  Her mother rose to her feet, talking around her cigarette. “Don’t be so stuck-up. You came from my womb. You have my blood in you, girlie. You’re no better than me, so don’t you dare judge me.”

  Crystal forced herself to dig deep and find the calm voice she used with overbearing parents at the boutique. “I’m not judging you, Mom. I just wish you’d stop judging Jed and Dad.”

  “Hey, how about we change the subject.” Jed winked at Crystal. “How’s your boyfriend?”

  “What boyfriend?”

  He laughed. “Uh-oh. Did you break up?”

  She rolled her eyes. “With…?”

  “Bear? The guy who had his arm around you at Tru’s Christmas party and again at the Easter parade? Did you forget I was there?”

  “He isn’t my boyfriend.” Although he’s played a starring role in my dreams for months. “There is no boyfriend. Same as last time and probably the same as next time.”

  Their mother scoffed. “She can’t keep a man. A man touches her and she flips out.”

  The night of the attack, and the reason she’d left college, came rushing back. Why she’d thought she could confide in her mother was beyond her. The hell with this.

  She stormed across the room and grabbed her bag. “Sorry, Jed. I’ve got to get out of here.”

  “That’s it. Run away, just like always.” Her mother waved a hand and picked up her fork, stabbing at her food.

  “Whatever.” She was so sick of the same old shit; her mother was barely worth the energy of her halfhearted response.

  “Jesus, Mom. Give her a break.” Jed pushed to his feet and stood between the table and Crystal, thankfully blocking her view of her mother. “Ignore her. She’s blitzed out of her mind.”

  “You need a ride?” Crystal was dying to take a shower and scrub off the smoke and grime of her past.

  “Yeah. I get my license back in six weeks, but can you swing me by my buddy’s?” He looked at his mother, and Crystal saw the guilt eating away at him.

  She rolled her eyes again. “I’ll take you to get her cigarettes first, but I don’t know why you cater to her.”

  “Same reason you’re here every month. Good old-fashioned guilt.”

  CRYSTAL FLEW THROUGH Truman and Gemma’s front door like wildfire, eating up everything in her path. Her raven mane was soaking wet, framing her beautiful, scowling face as she stormed into the living room. Her black hoodie hung open over a Rolling Stones T-shirt, and her piercing baby blues threw daggers. Her skintight black jeans had tears along her thighs and beneath her knees, revealing flashes of her tanned skin. Skin he’d like to touch and taste and have wrapped around him.

  She stopped a few feet from Bear and set her hand on her hip. “Give me a paintbrush, or a roller, or a goddamn gun for all I care. Just give me something and get out of my way.”

  They’d finished painting ten minutes ago. Bear chuckled at her vehemence. She was sexy as sin no matter what mood she was in, but this tigress before him made him want to comfort her and fuck her at once.

  “Hard night, sugar?”

  She narrowed her eyes. “Not hard enough. And I’m not your sugar. I need to work out my frustrations.” She thrust out a hand, obviously waiting for a paintbrush.

  He grabbed that delicate little hand and hauled her against him. His entire body flamed. Several months of playing cat and mouse was way too long. Her eyes darkened and her breathing shallowed. Bear was done messing around. This brazen beauty not only wanted him, but she needed him. She just didn’t know it yet.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” She spoke in a low voice and probably meant it to sound threatening, but she sounded sultry and hard to resist.

  He cupped her chin, brushing his thumb over her lower lip, and the air rushed from her lungs. His hand slid over her hip. She had the sleek, sexy curves of a ’61 Harley-Davidson Duo-Glide, and he couldn’t wait to rev her up and make her purr. “Giving you what you need. A wild Whiskey night is the perfect remedy for your frustrations.”

  “Uncle Be-ah!” Three-year-old Kennedy ran into the room wearing a Dora the Explorer nightgown and clutching the Winnie-the-Pooh stuffed toy Bear’s younger sister, Dixie, had given her. She squeezed between them. Truman had rescued his younger siblings, Kennedy and Lincoln, from a crack house after their mother overdosed. He and Gemma were raising them as their own.

  Crystal smirked at Bear and arched a brow.

  He reluctantly released her. Cockblocked by a three-year-old.

  “Hi, pretty girl.” Crystal gave Bear a snarky look as she crouched and hugged Kennedy. “This cuteness is all I need after a frustrating evening.”

  “Why are you fwustrated, Auntie Cwystal?” Kennedy still had a hard time pronouncing r’s, and the way she spoke turned Bear’s insides to mush.

  “I’m not anymore, thanks to you.”

  “I came to kiss you and Beah good night.” She gave Crystal a tight hug and kiss, then reached her spindly arms up to Bear and went up on her toes.

  He lifted her up, and she wound her arms around his neck.

  “Thank you for letting me help you paint.” Kennedy yawned and rested her head on his shoulder. “The house will be pwetty for Mommy and Tooman’s—I mean Daddy’s—wedding.” Although Kennedy and Lincoln were Truman’s siblings, when Lincoln had begun talking, he’d called Truman Dada, and Kennedy had said she wanted to call him that, too. Sometimes she forgot and called him Tooman.

  Bear ran his hand down her back. It was hard to believe it had been less than a year since Truman had found them. Kennedy had gone from a rail-thin, frightened little girl to a healthy, happy member of not just Truman’s family, but Bear’s, too.

  “You’re the best painter around, sweetheart. Thank you for helping me.” He lifted his eyes, catching Crystal watching him with a warm—interested?—look in her eyes. He liked that a whole lot.

  Crystal’s eyes skittered away. “Hey, Ken? Where’s Mommy?”

  “She’s giving Lincoln a baf.”

  Crystal smiled. “Want me to take you up to bed?”

  “Yes,” Bear and Kennedy said at once.

  Crystal rolled her eyes at Bear and reached for Kennedy.

  Bear put an arm around Crystal’s waist, ignoring her glare. “I’m escorting two of my favorite girls upstairs. Deal with it.” He guided her toward the stairs, where they ran into Truman on his way down.

  Truman stood eye to eye with Bear, his dark eyes moving between the two of them. His lips curved up and he shook his head. He must have read the annoyed expression on Crystal’s face, because he reached for Kennedy. “I think I’ll intervene. Thanks, guys.”

  After he went upstairs, Crystal said, “You can let go of me now.”

  “No thanks.” He kept ahold of her as she stalked back to the living room. “Want to tell me what happened tonight?”


  “No. I want to paint.” She squirmed out of his grip and he tugged her back.

  “If you think I’ll let this go, you’re wrong. Talk to me. What’s got you so irritated?”

  “Jesus, Bear,” she snapped. “I’m not yours. You don’t have to protect me.”

  He ignored her comment because she knew damn well how things worked with the Whiskeys. More importantly, she knew him well enough to know he’d never sit idly by and let her get hurt. If someone had pissed her off, he’d straighten them out.

  “You’re not mine yet,” he conceded.

  “God, you’re so arrogant and handsy and…Ugh!” She pushed away. “I just had a rough visit with my mom, that’s all.”

  “What happened?” Her not wanting to go into specifics didn’t surprise him. She’d always been cagey about her parents.

  She grabbed the ladder and dragged it toward the far wall. He took it from her, and she glared at him again. She was the most stubborn woman he’d ever known. She was also sharp, confident, and possibly the most sensitive person he knew, though she’d never admit to it. Those were just a few of the things he found utterly entrancing about her.

  Her arms were crossed, and he was pretty sure if it were possible she’d have steam coming out of her ears. “Can we just paint?”

  “Sorry, sugar, but we’re done for the night.”

  “Seriously?” She looked around the room, and her stomach growled. Her lips curved up at the edges as she spread a hand over her belly.

  Perfect. He whipped out his phone, texting Tru and telling him he was taking Crystal out for a bite to eat. “Grab your bag. We’re going out to eat.” He draped his arm over her shoulder and headed for the front door.

  “I’m not hungry.”

  He gave her his best deadpan stare.

  Challenge rose in her beautiful eyes. “You don’t tell me what to do.”

  “All right. Your stomach’s growling. Obviously you’re hungry. Let’s go grab something to eat.”

  She folded her arms over her chest. “That’s telling.”

  “Christ, woman.” She had no idea how much he adored this side of her. They’d never been on an official date, but they’d gone to grab a bite to eat spur-of-the-moment like this plenty of times. “Are you hungry?”

  “I could eat.”

  “Great,” he said. “Let’s go.”

  “Oh my God. Really? Didn’t anyone ever teach you how to ask a woman if she’d like to go out to eat?”

  “Are you telling me to ask you out on a date?” He slid his arm around her waist again and waggled his brows.

  “No.” She laughed.

  He loved her laugh. It was brazen and loud, like her. “Damn. Thought I got lucky. Crystal Moon, would you like to grab a burger with me?”

  She picked up her bag from the floor. “Fine. But I need to tell Gemma. You’re so bossy.”

  “You totally dig bossy, and I already texted Tru and told him.”

  “Presumptive and bossy.”

  He pulled open the door. The starless sky made the night extra dark, and even with the streetlights it felt as though the night had swallowed the earth.

  Crystal walked toward her car, and he tightened his grip. “We’ll take my truck.”

  “I can drive. Then you don’t have to bring me back to get it.”

  He opened the passenger door of the truck and said, “I also wouldn’t have you with me on the way there. Climb in.”

  “Bossy.” She stepped onto the running board and he smacked her ass. She glared over her shoulder.

  “You know I like it when you glare at me.” He circled the truck and climbed into the driver’s seat, debating unhooking her seat belt and hauling her pretty little ass across the bench seat. But her expression turned serious, and he remembered she’d had a hard night. Empathy pushed his desires to the side.

  They drove to Woody’s Burgers in silence, which was how he knew there was probably more to this than a shitty visit with her mother. He also knew she wasn’t going to tell him what was really going on. At least not yet. He came on strong, but they had a solid friendship that felt more like a relationship and went beyond his desire to finally taste her luscious mouth. He cared about her, and one way or another, he’d figure out a way to get her to talk. He had to, because knowing she was hurting and not being able to fix it made him want to tear someone’s head off.

  He parked the truck and reached across the seat, giving her hand a comforting squeeze. “Hey.” He waited until she met his gaze. “Whatever’s going on, you know you can talk to me.”

  Her eyes fell to their hands, and a hint of a smile lifted her lips. “Yeah, I know. Thanks.”

  Woody’s was a low-key burger joint with brick walls that had been painted white and bright green tables and benches. Overgrown ferns and decorative iron lights hung from metal rods along the ceiling. The floor was a mismatched patchwork of wooden planks. It didn’t look like much, but they had the best burgers and fries in Peaceful Harbor, and tonight Bear had the prettiest girl in the harbor on his arm, too. It was a good night, despite the cloud hanging over Crystal’s head. He’d shelter her from whatever storm came her way.

  He slid into the booth beside her.

  “There are two benches for a reason,” she pointed out.

  “Oh, right.” He kicked his feet up on the bench across from them, the tips of his black leather boots visible over the edge of the table.

  She laughed.

  “Your turn.” He tapped her thigh, leaving his hand there as she lifted her feet beside his.

  She pushed his hand from her thigh without a word, and he stretched his arm across the back of the bench.

  “Are you always like this?” She picked up the menu and looked it over.

  “You’ve known me for a long time. You tell me.”

  “I know how you are with me. I mean with other girls. I’ve never been out with you, like on a date.”

  He began kneading the tension from her shoulder. “Then maybe it’s time to remedy that.”

  The waitress interrupted before she could respond, and they ordered burgers and fries, and Crystal ordered a milk shake. Chocolate, vanilla, and strawberry mixed, please. She was unique in everything she did, and he loved that about her. Their food came quickly, and they made small talk about getting ready for Tru and Gemma’s wedding.

  When he couldn’t stand the edge in her voice any longer, he said, “Tell me about your mom.”

  She shrugged. “Nothing to tell. We’re not very close.”

  “Why was tonight so rough?” He picked up a fry and dunked it in her shake as she lifted her burger to her mouth.

  “Um…?” She lowered her burger to the plate. “What are you doing?”

  “Dunking my fry in your shake.” He popped it in his mouth. “Haven’t we done this before?”

  “No.”

  “We’ve known each other for almost a year and we’ve never had fries and shakes? That’s not true and you know it.”

  “You’ve never dunked your fry in my shake,” she clarified.

  He brushed his shoulder against hers. “Whose fault is that? I would love to bury my fry in your luscious milk shake.”

  She laughed. “Not happening.” She took a big bite of her burger, her cheeks puffing out like a chipmunk, clearly trying to avoid talking about that.

  He finished his burger and put his arm around her again, dipping another fry in her shake. He held it up for her, and she swatted his hand away, pointing to her full mouth. Her eyes were wide, but smiling, which he totally dug.

  “Okay, I’ll tell you what. Tell me why tonight was so rough, and I’ll leave your shake alone.”

  She shook her head, and he dunked another fry. She whimpered, trying to swallow her burger as quickly as she could.

  “My girl doesn’t swallow well. Noted.”

  She laughed/snorted and choked on her burger. He patted her on the back, both of them laughing.

  “I’ll help you with that whole swallowing thi
ng,” he offered, which made her laugh harder, causing her to snort again.

  She tried to catch her breath, and he dunked another fry.

  “Hey!”

  “Just try one. You’ll like it. I promise.”

  She eyed the fry as if it were poison.

  “One bite.” He dragged the fry along her lower lip. Leaning closer, he said, “You’d better lick that off before I do.”

  Her eyes narrowed, and her tongue swept over her lower lip.

  “Christ Almighty,” he grumbled.

  She laughed. “That’s pretty good. Salty and sweet.”

  “Stick with me, baby. I’ll make sure you get your fill of salty and sweet.”

  She shook her head, laughing softly. “You never answered my question about if you were this way with all women.”

  “You never answered mine about what really happened tonight.” He dunked another fry and held it up for her.

  Their eyes locked, unstoppable heat pulsing between them. She shifted her gaze to the fry, her fingers curling around her thigh. She didn’t move, didn’t say a word, just stared at the fry, as if that might cool down the inferno that followed them like a shadow.

  He leaned forward to eat the fry at the same time she did, and they ended up nose to nose, their mouths a fry apart.

  She licked her lips, and he lowered the fry, clearing the way for the kiss he’d been fantasizing about for months.

  “I had to drive Jed all over creation,” she said softly.

  It took him a second to realize she was answering his question.

  “I’ve got a ton of designs to work on for the boutique now that we’re trying to make and sell our own costumes. And I haven’t had time to get my car inspected, which I need to do before I get a ticket. Tonight was a total time suck. Not now,” she clarified. “Earlier. With my mother and Jed.”

  She dressed and acted tough, but there were brief moments like this when she let her guard down just enough for him to catch a glimpse of the vulnerable woman behind the walls. He wanted to take her in his arms and protect her and love her at once. But she’d finally let him in, and he realized he still owed her an answer to her question.

  The truth came easily. “You asked if I was this way with everyone. I’m this way because it’s you.”