Whiskey Chaser (Bootleg Springs Book 1)

by Lucy Score

  Jonah shrugged again.

  “Dad had nothing,” Gibson spat out. “So, if you think you’re gettin’ rich off of some drunk’s estate, think again.”

  “I don’t want anything from him,” Jonah said.

  I stepped between them just in case Gibson decided to take a swing. Devlin moved with me.

  “Well, I’m Scarlett,” I said, holding out my hand. “And I bet you have a lot of questions.”

  Jonah looked at my hand for a minute before shaking it. “Hi, Scarlett,” he said softly, his voice so like my father’s made it feel like I was having a conversation with a ghost.

  “Devlin,” Dev said, introducing himself. “I’m staying next door,” he said.

  Jonah nodded. “I’m Jonah.”

  “This is bullshit,” Gibson muttered.

  “Then why don’t you walk away like you always do? Go mope in your fortress of solitude,” I snapped.

  “We don’t know anything about this guy, and you want to be his friend?”

  “Just ‘cause you don’t like what he has to say doesn’t mean you have to be a dick about it,” I retorted.

  “He checks out,” Cassidy called from my driveway. She ambled back down with Bowie at her side and handed Jonah his driver’s license back. “Jonah Bodine, thirty, currently of Jetty Beach, Washington State. Few speeding tickets. No real bumps with the law.”

  Bowie offered his hand. “Not sure what the etiquette is here. But I’m Bowie. I guess I’m your half-brother.”

  “This is fucking ridiculous,” Gibson railed.

  “Go home, Gibs,” I told him.

  He ran a hand over his beard, and I saw anger in his ice blue eyes.

  “Go on home until you can act like a human being,” I ordered.

  “Where are you staying?” Gibson asked Jonah. It didn’t sound remotely friendly.

  “Don’t tell him,” I ordered Jonah.

  “Scarlett,” Jameson said quietly, laying his hand on my shoulder.

  “We’re not goin’ brother against brother tonight,” I said stubbornly.

  Gibson stormed off, and a moment later, we heard his muscle car rev up. He peeled out of my driveway sending gravel flying.

  “If I have to arrest a Bodine tonight, I’m gonna be pissed,” Cassidy sighed.

  “Where are you staying?” I asked Jonah.

  “Don’t have a place yet,” he said. “I wanted to see how the introductions went to see if I’d be sticking around.”

  I grinned. “I think they went all right, don’t you?”

  Devlin snorted next to me.

  “Shut up, Dev. Nobody got decked.”

  “Why don’t you stay with me, Jonah? I got a couch and a lot of whiskey.”

  “No!” The chorus was loud and insistent. Jameson, Bowie, and Devlin were glaring at me and shaking their heads.

  “What?”

  “You can stay with me,” Devlin insisted. “I’ve got guest rooms. We can borrow the whiskey.”

  “Fine. Whatever,” I muttered. “I’ll see you for breakfast tomorrow, Jonah. We’ll talk. Bowie, why don’t you see June and Cass home? And Jame, do you mind checking in on Gibson on your way?” Gibson was an asshole, but he was my asshole.

  “So, their father had an affair and impregnated someone else?” June asked Cassidy on their way to the driveway.

  “Looks that way,” Cassidy said, throwing a look over her shoulder. Bowie followed them a pace or two behind.

  “Don’t do anything stupid,” Jameson said, pointing a callused finger in my face.

  “Yeah, yeah. Don’t let Gibson goad you into a fight,” I replied.

  With a wary look back at us, Jameson crossed the yard to my driveway.

  “Well, that was fun,” I said. “You don’t by chance have any sisters do you, Jonah? I’m gettin’ sick of the never-ending geyser of testosterone around here.”

  He shook his head. “Only child.”

  “‘Til now,” I reminded him. I couldn’t quite tell in the dark, but I thought his face softened at my words. Whether Jonah realized it or not, he was one of us now.

  I was suddenly exhausted. It settled on my shoulders like an unshakeable weight. “Do y’all need anything for the night?” I asked.

  Devlin rested his hand on my shoulder. “Go to bed, Scarlett. We’ll see you in the morning.” I wasn’t sure what about his touch undid me, but I was one second away from blubbering all over him.

  I reached up and gave his hand a squeeze and nodded at Jonah. “I’ll see y’all tomorrow.” With that, I left them in the dark and headed into my house. I didn’t bother with the lights. I wanted the darkness. Wanted it to wrap me up and make me stop feeling things. I missed my dad. But was I really missing him or the man he should have been? The one we’d see glimpses of over the years. The two-steppin’, bacon-frying, handyman who always had time for a conversation. Where had that man gone?

  He’d disappeared into a bottle and never came out.

  I looked at the shelf in my kitchen that held my booze collection. But nothing called to me. Nothing promised me happiness or numbness. Is that what he’d found in the bottom of that bottle, I wondered.

  I thought about Gibson, his reaction to Jonah. My big brother had borne the brunt of my parents’ unhappy marriage. And I had no idea what the existence of another Jonah Bodine would make him feel.

  “Damn it,” I muttered under my breath. I wanted to wallow in my own feelings of misery, not worry about my brother’s.

  I dug my phone out of my bag.

  Scarlett: I’m not sorry. But I hope you’re okay.

  He made me wait almost a full five minutes before responding.

  Gibson: I’m not sorry either. Go to bed. We can fight tomorrow.

  And just like that all was right between us. Bodines didn’t break promises, and we definitely didn’t apologize. Well, Bowie did. And he was damn good at it. But me? The words always got stuck in my throat and came out in a jumble of excuses and finger pointing.

  I stripped out of my wet clothes and pulled on a tank top and shorts. I got myself a glass of water and then sat down on the swing on my porch. The symphony of crickets was deafening on the cool night air.

  Usually I thought about all the things I had to be grateful for. But tonight, I let myself stew in all the things I wished were different. And maybe I thought once or twice about that kiss.

  10

  Devlin

  “You can take your pick of the rooms upstairs,” I told Jonah, jerking my head toward the hallway off the kitchen.

  “Thanks.”

  He studied the house with a disconnected interest as if he was cataloging everything and storing away the details.

  “Nice place,” he ventured as he looked into the night through the deck doors in the living room.

  “It’s my grandmother’s. She’s traveling.”

  “And you’re the house-sitter?” He dropped his duffle bag on the floor.

  “I’m the grandson going through a rough patch who needed a place to stay.”

  Jonah nodded, no judgment in his gaze. “Looks like you picked a good place to ride out the rough.”

  “You ever been here before?” I asked.

  Jonah shook his head and returned to the kitchen, shoving his hands in the pockets of his jeans. “No. Never had a reason to when Jonah was alive.”

  “Bad guy?” I asked. Scarlett had yet to talk much about her father, but I could tell her memories of him were softer, warmer, than Jonah’s.

  “He was no hero to me,” Jonah admitted.

  Since we were here, I opened the fridge and pulled two beers out of the six-pack Estelle had thoughtfully left for me. I slid one across the counter to him.

  He twisted the top and crossed the kitchen to study a picture on Gran’s bulletin board. “This your grandmother?” he asked.

  It was Gran and Estelle wrapped in a cheerful embrace at the top of Pike’s Peak in Colorado.

  “My grandmother and her lesbian life partner.” H
e’d seemed touchy on the subject of his mother, and I was the same when it came to Gran. I dared him to say something about West Virginia and a bi-racial lesbian couple.

  “Cool,” he said, returning to the island where he slid onto one of the flower padded barstools.

  “So, what are you hoping to get out of this visit?” I asked him.

  He shrugged one shoulder. “Honestly? I have no idea. The Jonah Bodine I knew had no interest in me and vice versa. His kids? My siblings?” He sounded like he was rolling the word around in his mouth, trying it out. “That’s a different story.”

  “Family,” I murmured.

  “Drink to that,” Jonah agreed, raising his bottle. We drank in silence for a few minutes.

  “So, Scarlett?” Jonah finally said, letting the question hang in the air.

  “What about her?” I could feel my hackles rising.

  “I noticed you’re pretty protective of her,” he grinned, looking pointedly at my white knuckled grip on the neck of my beer.

  I relaxed my hands and slouched against the counter. “She’s something,” I said. “Unlike any woman I’ve ever met before.”

  “Are you… together?” Jonah asked.

  I thought about the kiss in the water. Her soul-stealing mouth moving against mine and how I’d been seconds away from doing something really stupid. She made me feel… alive. Intensely alive.

  “She just lives next door,” I said carefully.

  “Hmm,” Jonah said, not believing me.

  “Does your mother know you’re here?” I asked, the lawyer in me waking from his long hibernation. Redirect, go on the offensive, keep them off-balance.

  “She does not,” he said staring intently at the label on his bottle. “Yet.”

  We made the morning trek to Scarlett’s little cottage and knocked on her front door. It was even more like a dollhouse up close, I realized. Her postage stamp screened-in porch housed one porch swing and a small round table with two chairs. Her front door was painted navy blue.

  I knocked once and peered through the glass.

  She was folded over, digging through her refrigerator, when I knocked.

  She slammed the fridge and danced to the door. Scarlett smiled brightly when she welcomed us, but I saw the shadows under her eyes. It looked as though I wasn’t the only one who hadn’t slept last night. But my thoughts had been occupied by the kiss. I doubted that hers had.

  “Morning, boys. I have some bad news. I’ve got one egg and two strips of bacon.”

  Jonah and I both looked around us in wonder. She’d taken the interior of the cabin and turned it into a sanctuary with green plants, soft quilts, and worn furniture. It was cozy, friendly. Her skinny coffee table was occupied by a laptop and a neat stack of work orders. The kitchen was the size of a shoebox. Tiny and L-shaped with about a foot and a half of usable counter space. The floors were pine. The walls were stucco. Above the stone fireplace’s thick wood mantel hung a twisted iron heart.

  Jonah said something about not needing much more than coffee for breakfast.

  “Oh, no. I promised y’all breakfast,” Scarlett said. “We’ll just go to Moonshine.”

  “It’s a diner,” I told him before he could ask. “Great pepperoni rolls.”

  Scarlett beamed up at me, and I instantly felt ten feet tall. If I had that face smiling up at me every day, there wouldn’t be much in life that I couldn’t accomplish. I wanted to kiss her again or at least ask her about the kiss. What it meant? Would I be lucky enough to get another one from her? But not with an audience.

  I should have backed out, let the two of them go together. But I knew I’d have to answer to Scarlett’s brothers if I were to leave their baby sister with a stranger. Plus, if I was being honest, I wanted another pepperoni roll.

  I volunteered to drive. Scarlett rode shotgun, and Jonah took the seat behind her so he’d have more room for his legs. Scarlett was unusually quiet on the short drive, focusing her attention on her phone.

  When she caught me looking, she flashed the screen at me. It was a group text between her and her brothers. I wondered if we’d end up with more Bodines for breakfast.

  Moonshine was busy, but Clarabell wrangled a table for us in the back.

  “You sure keep comin’ in here with some attractive men, Scarlett,” Clarabell said with a wink of her blue-shadowed eye.

  “I’ve got a reputation to uphold,” Scarlett joked and opened her menu.

  Clarabell hustled off to get our coffees, and Scarlett eyed Jonah. “Question that I’m gonna need an answer for real fast. Are you okay with folks here knowing you’re my half-brother?”

  Jonah looked up from his menu and scanned the restaurant. “I suppose so.”

  “Good, because secrets don’t keep in Bootleg, and I figure I’ve got about forty seconds before someone comes up and wants to know who you are. And that family resemblance is gonna have tongues a waggin’.”

  Jonah shifted uncomfortably in his seat. I felt bad for him. No one really wanted to face that kind of scrutiny.

  Scarlett reached out and patted his hand. “There’s no sins of the father here in Bootleg. No one’s gonna blame you for existing,” she promised.

  “Tell me they’ve got eggs benedict today.” Bowie appeared over my shoulder and snatched Scarlett’s menu from her hands.

  “Hey!”

  “Mornin’ all,” he said, sliding into the chair next to Jonah.

  “Glad you could make it,” Scarlett said, stealing my menu.

  “You think I’d really miss our first family breakfast?” Bowie quipped.

  “Well, here’s yet another gorgeous hunk of man,” Clarabell cooed, dropping off mugs. She looked back and forth between Bowie and Jonah, and I saw the recognition hit her like a ton of bricks. “Well, I’ll be…”

  “Clarabell, this here is our half-brother Jonah,” Scarlett said as casually as if she were discussing the spring weather.

  “Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Jonah. I expect you’ll be staying with us for a while.”

  Let the fishing begin, I thought with a cough to hide my laugh.

  “I’m playing it by ear,” Jonah said, flashing her a friendly smile.

  “Clarabell, can I have the meat lover’s omelet with white toast, extra grape jelly?” Scarlett asked, snapping the menu shut and passing it back to me. She began shoveling creamer and sugar in alarming quantities into her coffee.

  “Why sure thing, sweetheart.”

  “Coffee when you get the chance,” Bowie ordered. “And the eggs benedict.”

  “Same,” Jonah said, handing over his menu.

  “I’ll do three egg whites, the turkey bacon, and wheat toast,” I said closing the menu.

  “Aren’t you gonna get a pepperoni roll?” Scarlett asked, batting her lashes at me.

  “And two pepperoni rolls to go,” I added. If I still had a houseguest, I needed to feed him something for lunch.

  “We’ll just hang on to this one in case anyone else in the brood shows up,” Scarlett said.

  “Be right back with your coffee, Bowie,” Clarabell said. She practically sprinted back to the counter, and I could almost feel the word spreading like wildfire. Heads swiveled in our direction. Jonah focused his attention on the top of the table, fiddling with the sugar packets.

  “So,” Bowie began.

  “So,” Scarlett said.

  “Y’all order yet?” Jameson muscled his way over and snagged an empty chair from a neighboring table putting it at the foot of our table.

  Scarlett lit up. “‘Bout time,” she said. But when she thought no one else was looking, I caught her mouth the words, “Thank you.”

  “So,” Jameson began.

  I was starting to feel like the odd man out. This was a family matter. Blood and DNA were ranged around the table, anxious to talk history. And the McCallister in me wanted to get up and leave. My family would never discuss private matters with outsiders.

  “You know, I might just see if I can
get my breakfast to go—” I started.

  “Hush up, Dev. We’ve got no secrets,” Scarlett insisted.

  Jameson shrugged his broad shoulders. “No problems here.”

  Bowie nodded his assent in the stay or go vote. “Fine by me.”

  All eyes turned to Jonah. This was his first time to weigh-in on a Bodine family situation.

  “It’s cool with me,” he said. The look of relief on his face told me he wasn’t keen to be left alone with his new family just yet. “Besides, you drove us.”

  “Isn’t this cozy?” Gibson appeared next to Scarlett, and everyone tensed around the table. The entire diner went silent as everyone strained to hear.

  Scarlett nudged the empty chair at the foot of the table at him. “Pull up a chair, Gibs.”

  Gibson glanced in Jonah’s direction and looked away again.

  11

  Scarlett

  I held my breath and waited for my brother to make his move. I really hoped it wouldn’t be a fist to Jonah’s face. Thankfully, my desperate prayers were answered, and Gibson grudgingly took the seat I kicked at him.

  Clarabell, clairvoyant waitress that she was, arrived with a coffee for Gibson. “You boys want breakfast?” she asked Jameson and Gibson.

  She took their orders—waffles for Jameson, who was as much a sugar whore as I was, and just the coffee for Gibs.

  “I’m guessin’ we all have some questions for one another,” I began.

  “I want to know why you’re here,” Gibson said to Jonah without looking at him. His tone was flat and lacked the heat of his anger last night.

  “Curiosity mostly,” Jonah answered.

  Devlin shifted in his chair next to me. He was uncomfortable with the situation, but since Jonah was his temporary roommate and I was planning on sleeping with Devlin at some point, he might as well stick around and get his ears full.

  “About us?” I asked Jonah.

  He nodded. “I don’t care about your father—our father,” he corrected himself. “He had no interest in me and my life, and I’m happy to return that favor. But I didn’t know about you.”