Taming My Whiskey

by Melissa Foster

  Disgusted with herself, she put the bottle down and went back to the table to stare at the blurry pages of the ledger.

  She must have fallen asleep, because she startled awake to the feel of a hand on her arm and found her mother sitting beside her with a concerned expression. “Mom? Sorry, I must have dozed off. What time is it?”

  “Just after three.”

  Holy cow, she’d been asleep for hours. She sat up, and her mother’s eyes trailed from her head down to the fuzzy slippers on her feet.

  Dixie tucked her feet under her chair and folded her arms around her middle. When she’d finally gone home last night, she’d opened the gift Jace had given her. Inside she’d found copies of the pictures she’d asked for, the pictures that Hawk had taken of him at the photo shoot, and a beautiful black lace top and black skirt from the Leather and Lace line like the ones he’d torn off her in the heat of passion. In her grief last night, she’d put them on, and couldn’t bear the thought of taking them off this morning.

  Her mother scooted her chair closer and put her palm on Dixie’s forehead. “Hm. No fever.”

  Jace’s voice slammed through Dixie’s mind. That damn Whiskey fever’s got me all worked up. She lowered her eyes, trying to hide her emotions.

  “I hear you were hell on wheels last night.” Her mother put her finger under Dixie’s chin, lifting and studying her face. “You look like you had a rough night, sweet girl. Diesel followed you home last night and slept outside your house. Did you know that? He was worried you were hiding something and that whoever had caused you to be upset might come back.”

  Dixie shook her head.

  The Dark Knights took care of their own, and as the daughter of the president of the club, she’d always be one of their own. Maybe it should piss her off that Diesel had done that after she’d made such a scene about being able to take care of herself, but it didn’t. It brought fresh tears to her eyes, because a teeny-tiny part of her had wished Jace would come roaring back to profess his love for her.

  A knot lodged in her throat.

  “Do you want to tell me why you look like you got all dressed up for a hot date, ended up being passed around a pool hall, hitched a ride to Vegas, got ditched at the altar, and woke up at the bottom of a barrel of tequila?” Her mother reached up to tuck a few loose strands of hair behind Dixie’s ear, and her brows slanted. “Is that a scrunchie in your hair? Oh, baby girl, talk to me.”

  Dixie opened her mouth to speak, but her thoughts were jagged and painful, spilling out in an incomprehensible wail. She surrendered to the pain, collapsing into her mother’s waiting arms.

  “It’s okay, baby.” Her mother stroked her hair. “Let it all out, every last tear.”

  Dixie sat on the edge of her chair, weeping and clinging to her mother like a lifeline. She cried until she had no more tears to cry, until all that was left were the painful sores of a broken heart.

  When she finally pried herself from her mother’s arms, she felt like a husk of a person, empty and soulless. Her mother put a handful of napkins in her palm, curling her fingers around Dixie’s, her eyes moving to the new tattoo on her wrist. It was crusted with scabs.

  Her mother’s brows knitted, and she said, “Jace.”

  It wasn’t a question or an accusation, but a confirmation Dixie knew she didn’t need to acknowledge. Her mother’s face crumbled in hurt, and she pressed her lips together, her chest rising as she nodded in understanding.

  “Just tell me one thing,” her mother said softly. “Should I let the boys go after him?”

  Dixie was wrong. She hadn’t cried all her tears, because more filled her eyes as she shook her head. “It’s not his fault. He did everything right,” she said through her tears, unable to stop the truth from pouring out. “He was honest from the start about what it would be if we got together. He warned me, and he tried not to do anything. Mom, he really tried. I pushed it, and I thought I could handle it. I thought I could just hook up with him and be done with it, but…” Her voice was lost to her sobs.

  “Oh, my sweet darlin’.” He mother embraced her again. “You can’t have a taste of love and turn it off like a faucet. Don’t you know that’s why Bullet lost his mind when Jace claimed you at the auction?”

  “What?” she choked out.

  “Baby, Bear told us all those years ago how you lost your heart to Jace in the space of a heartbeat. Bear said Jace had looked at you in a way that made him want to tear his head off, but you know Bear. Even as a boy he could read emotions better than any of us, and he knew Jace was chaining himself down to keep from going after you. You were just a young thing, and he was a full-grown man making big strides with his life. He was too smart to get tangled up in a situation like that.”

  Dixie pulled back, shocked at what she was hearing. “Bear saw that?”

  “He did. You’re a Whiskey, baby, and when Whiskeys set their mind to something, we don’t let anything stand in our way and we don’t hide our feelings. Your brothers all know that. They knew it was just a matter of time until you and Jace gave in to what you felt. We thought things would come to a head long before now, even before Bear started working for Silver-Stone. But Jace was strong. He kept his distance until the night of the auction, when he claimed you. Trust me, Bullet knew exactly what was going to happen. We all did.”

  “I didn’t!” Dixie snapped. “Couldn’t you have warned me? Or stopped me?”

  Her mother laughed softly, shaking her head. “I raised four ornery children to be even stronger adults. That was one hornet’s nest I wasn’t about to step into, although Bullet did his best to stop you. But our girl Finlay saw something more between you and Jace and yanked Bullet’s leash until he backed off.”

  “Maybe she should have let him go,” Dixie said, wiping her eyes.

  “You don’t believe that.”

  Dixie shook her head, trying to dry her remaining tears. She told her mother about Jace showing up last night. “I thought I was protecting my heart by sending him away, but it just broke it even more. Am I wrong for wanting what you and Dad and everyone else has? I thought he might come back, but last night I realized he wouldn’t. He’s not the kind of guy who chases women, and I don’t want a man who doesn’t want me.”

  “Oh, baby. There’s a big difference between not wanting a woman and respecting her wishes. You sent him away, and he listened.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” she seethed. “He can’t be what I want, and I don’t want to be any man’s sometimes lover.”

  “Like I said, I raised a strong woman. I think it’s time you got away from everything. You haven’t had a real vacation in years. Why don’t you see if Daphne can give you the cottage a few days early and head up to the Cape? I’ll fill in for you this week and get Babs to watch the babies for me.” Daphne Zablonski was one of the founders of the book club Dixie was in, and she handled the reservations for Bayside Resort, where Dixie had rented a cottage for her trip to attend the opening of Justin’s show at the gallery.

  “But I’ll miss the opening of Josie’s gingerbread shop on Tuesday, and she’s worked so hard. She’s doing a ribbon cutting. I hate to let Josie down.”

  Her mother took her hand and said, “Just for once can you please put yourself first? Josie loves you, and she knows you support her. Gemma is writing a story about the opening of Ginger All the Days for the community newspaper. I’ll make sure we take lots of pictures, and you can read the article. I didn’t want to wave this in front of you, but not only is being here going to make you crazy, but if your brothers get wind of your situation, Jace might very well end up with two broken legs.”

  Dixie gasped. “They can’t know. It’s not Jace’s fault. This is all on me. It was my choice to be with him and my choice to end things.”

  “Which is exactly why I’m suggesting that you get out of here until you can pull yourself together. Get rid of that Cyndi Lauper hair and those broken-heart slippers. You can get back to work Monday. Hopefully by then you�
�ll be able to do that gorgeous outfit justice. Why does it look like you slept in it?”

  Dixie lowered her eyes.

  “Oh, Dixie. You are even worse off than I thought.” Her mother sat and said, “That’s it. Mama Red’s taking control. Don’t try to fight me on it. I’ll do the books. I’ll handle the shop and waitressing. I want you to go home, call Daphne to extend your reservation, and if she can’t accommodate you, then call Violet, that friend of yours at Summer House, or stay with Justin or Madigan.” Justin had three brothers—Blaine, Zander, and Zeke. Madigan was their only sister. Their mother, Dixie’s aunt Reba, was Biggs’s sister. “And I want you to take off that outfit before you start downing ice cream like alcohol and get stains on it. Take a hit of Benadryl or a shot of whiskey, and get some sleep. Tomorrow morning, you climb your pretty little ass into your Jeep and get the hell out of Peaceful Harbor. I don’t want you to stop at the shop or say one word to your brothers. Do you hear me? You’re lucky Diesel called me. If he’d called Bullet or your father, things would be going down very differently. Take your time going to the Cape. Stop in Mystic and walk around the seaport to clear your head. The fresh air will do you good.”

  Dixie sighed. “My heart feels like it’s been ridden hard, wrung out, and tossed on the pavement.”

  “And then run over a few times, if I remember the feelings correctly,” her mother said.

  “How would you know? You’ve been with Dad forever.”

  “Because you don’t get to forever without first walking through fire. You think your brothers met their significant others and everything was peachy? Heck no, Dixie. Theirs are not my stories to tell, but trust me, all of us have gone through our own private hell, and we each came out stronger on the other side. Fate’s not to be fucked with. That bitch blows into your life at full speed, rides right up to you so you can smell her power, and then she lets you know who’s in charge by leaving you to wonder if you’ll ever feel whole again.”

  “If this is fate’s hand at play, I’m going to hunt that wicked bitch down and you’ll have to visit me in prison,” Dixie said solemnly.

  “Better ask Tru for some pointers first.” Her mother chuckled and leaned in for a hug, squeezing Dixie tight. “I love you, baby.” She rose to her feet and helped Dixie up, too.

  “Thanks for rescuing me from myself.”

  “You didn’t need rescuing, sweetheart. You’ve never been in love before. You just needed someone to part the trees so you could see beyond them and remember that you’re a strong, smart woman and it’s going to take an even stronger man to give you everything you need.”

  “I thought Jace was that man,” she said, feeling raw.

  Her mother picked up Dixie’s keys from the table and put them in her hand, covering it with her own as she said, “Don’t give up on him just yet. You’re a force to be reckoned with. My guess is that you’ve knocked that big, burly man off-kilter and he’s trying to figure out which way is up.” As they walked toward the door, she said, “And if not, then he’s a fucking idiot and he’s lost out on the best thing he’s ever had a shot at.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  ALL THE OPEN road in the world wasn’t enough to clear the image of Dixie Whiskey with tears in her eyes from Jace’s head. It didn’t help that she’d been literally everywhere he was since returning to LA Sunday night, when he received an envelope from Hawk containing dozens of prints from the photo shoot. Now it was Tuesday, and he was meeting with Maddox and their marketing team, as he had all day yesterday. They were choosing the final images for the calendar and the other marketing materials for the launch of the Legacy and Leather and Lace lines. They were down to eighteen possible pictures for the calendar, each of which were blown up to poster size and displayed on easels along one side of the conference room. Ten more poster-sized images were displayed on the other side of the room for the promotional packages. And at the front of the room was a projection screen that they were using to revisit pictures they’d already decided against, just in case they’d missed something.

  Jace tried to focus on the discussions taking place. Work had once been the place where he could put his head down and drown out the rest of the world. Now even that was shot to hell. Everywhere he looked, Dixie’s face smiled back at him, but in his mind all he saw were the tears she’d shed, the hurt she’d tried to mask when she’d sent him packing. He’d thought about drowning those images with alcohol, but he couldn’t bring himself to drink more than one shot. The only Whiskey he wanted had overpowered his ability to concentrate on anything other than her, which made these meetings even more of a nightmare. He was stuck listening to a room full of men and women pick at the woman who had touched him so deeply, she felt like she was part of him.

  “Her legs look a little too skinny in number fifteen,” one of the women from marketing said.

  Too skinny, my ass. They’re perfect.

  “She looks older in number three,” Maddox said. “And she looks younger in number eight than in all the others, so both of those stay, catering to different demographics.”

  A marketing assistant moved those two pictures off to the side.

  “This is splitting hairs,” one of the guys said. “But we are down to that, aren’t we? Does anyone else think her breasts look a little too perfect in number four? That could be a turnoff for women buyers.”

  “Definitely splitting hairs,” one of the women chimed in. “I’d give my left arm to have that problem.”

  The group laughed.

  Jace scowled. He imagined most women would give their left arm to look like Dixie.

  “I like the look in her eyes in twelve better than fifteen,” another guy said.

  The guy next to him nudged him with his elbow and said, “That’s because you’re imagining the pictures above your bed.”

  Jace gritted his teeth for the dozenth time that day.

  Maddox glanced at Jace from the other end of the conference room. He was wearing the black leather jacket he almost never took off, his elbows resting on the table. One hand covered his other in front of his chin. He wore thick silver-and-gold rings on two of his fingers and several leather, beaded, and silver bracelets on his wrist. The edge of a tattoo snaked out from under the sleeve of his jacket. His face was weathered, his thick silver hair and beard flecked with black, and his eyes held the hard look of a man who had not only been around the block, but he’d worn a path so deep, he owned it.

  Maddox had been looking at Jace for the past two days like he was trying to puzzle him out. Jace shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Maddox knew him better than any man ever had. Could he read the fucked-up chaos wreaking havoc in Jace’s head?

  “We should use number sixteen for the life-size cardboard cutouts in the retailer outlets,” another woman said. In that picture, Dixie was standing in front of the bike, one arm across her stomach, the elbow of her other arm leaning on it. Her tattoos added vibrant color to her flawless skin. Her hand rested by her shoulder in an alluringly feminine pose. Her chin was angled down, and she was looking at the camera with a taunting challenge in her eyes and on her lips. Her hair fell over the shoulders of her Leather and Lace bralette, which was paired with leather pants with silver zippers and lace accents and a pair of high-heeled leather boots.

  “Good call. She looks tough but approachable,” Maddox agreed.

  “She does have that come on, baby, try me look in her eyes,” one of the guys said.

  Jace didn’t like the way he said it. He must have looked annoyed, because the guy mouthed, Sorry.

  “I’m ordering one of those for my place,” another guy said. He leaned forward with a teasing expression and said, “I know we can’t mix business and pleasure, but can’t you make an exception just this once?”

  Not in this lifetime. Jace was sick of hearing comments and innuendos about Dixie, and he was also growing irritated with the concerned looks Maddox was giving him. He narrowed his eyes and pointed at the guy. “You. Out. Now,” he said in
a deathly serious voice, leaving no room for negotiation.

  The guy stilled like a deer in the headlights, as did everyone else in the room. The offender’s eyes darted right, then left, his lips twitching as if he were expecting it to be a joke, waiting for the others to laugh. “Sorry, Jace. I meant no disrespect. It was a joke.”

  “The fact that you need to explain should tell you how off base you were.” Jace looked at the door, dismissing him.

  After the guy left the room, an underlying hum of tension remained. The staff fidgeted uncomfortably, and Maddox arched a brow, as if he were trying to work out why Jace had suddenly reacted to what had been going on all day. Or maybe he was amused, in which case Jace would give him shit later.

  “What’s next?” Jace asked firmly.

  “I’ve got something,” Leni Steele said. She was sharp as a tack and had been spot-on when she’d recommended Hawk. “I just received an email from Shea. Jillian Braden is slotted to attend Fashion Week, and they pulled some strings and got the Leather and Lace line in!”

  There was an uproar of cheers.

  Jace held up his hand, and the cheers quieted. He looked at Maddox and said, “When did fashion shows become part of the launch?”

  “I spoke to Shea over the weekend while you were traveling,” Maddox explained. “It wasn’t part of the original launch plan, but she thinks it’ll take our clothing line mainstream.”

  “That’s great, but Dixie didn’t sign up to do fashion shows.” And he couldn’t picture anyone else representing the line.

  “Oh, that’s not a problem,” Leni reassured them. “Shea has a dozen models ready to do the show, and if we give her approval, she thinks she can use this to get the line into two other prominent fashion shows.”