For Love & Bourbon (13 page)

Brandy fumbled for something to say, some sort of excuse. She settled on reason. “Please. Let me take him home so he can sober up. You know he doesn’t mean to hurt anybody. He just gets a little carried away.”

“If I let him get away with this, it’s my ass on the line,” Beau told her angrily. “I won’t have him thinking he can drive drunk all he wants just because of who his family is.”

“He won’t anymore. I’ll talk to Ava, we’ll get him help,” Brandy pleaded, already reaching for Adam. She saw his lip was bleeding from when Beau had shoved him into the truck and winced with her own brand of anger. “Damn it, Beau. He’s bleeding.”

“He’s fine.” Beau retreated, putting away his handcuffs.

Brandy turned Adam around, inspecting him. Her fingertips fluttered over his face, gentle and soothing. “It’s okay, baby.”

Adam let out another laugh and spat blood at Beau’s feet. “C’mon, Beau. Let’s fight. I ain’t done yet.”

When Beau clenched his fists, Brandy thought for sure he’d take the bait. Instead, he stalked back to his patrol car. He called out to her before slipping inside. “He’s your problem now, honey. See to it he stays sober behind the wheel.”

Once he was gone, Brandy let out a relieved breath and faced Adam. She wiped away the blood on his lip with her sleeve. “C’mon. Walk with me to my place. You can sober up there.”

Adam blinked, focusing on her. She looked so worried for him. “You don’t have to protect me, Brandy. I can look out for myself.”

“I just saved your stupid ass from getting arrested,” she reminded him, wrapping her arm around his waist to help him walk straight. “Without me, you’d be spending the night in the drunk tank.”

“Instead I get to spend it with you.” He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Seems my luck’s improving.”

She bit her tongue and led the way to her apartment, which was above the local pharmacy. The flight of stairs was tricky, but they navigated into her place and she lowered him onto the hand-me-down plaid sofa she’d gotten from her grandparents.

“There. Now hang tight while I get you some water.” She disappeared into her tiny kitchen, leaving him to stare around her apartment. He’d been there before, but not in a long time. Everything was in shades of blue with a quaint country flair, softly feminine and homely. Just like Brandy, he mused, breathing in the scent of her favorite French vanilla candles. Quietly lovely, reliable Brandy.

His heart ached at the thought, bringing a frown to his face as she swept back in, a tall glass of ice water in her hands. She paused, meeting his eyes.

“You feelin’ okay?” she asked.

“Yeah,” he exhaled, trying to ward off the feelings. He accepted the glass from her and drank greedily, barely noticing as she sat on the sofa beside him. When he was finished, he set the glass down on the coffee table, amused when she swiftly tucked a coaster beneath it.

She looked at him sheepishly, her hands winding together in her lap. “Sorry. Force of habit.”

“That’s okay.” He turned away, rested his elbows on his knees. “Thanks for helping me out. You didn’t have to.”

“What are friends for?”

He nodded, staring down at his hands. He could hear her softly breathing, surprised by how much it comforted him. She was always there. And he was always making excuses not to take what she offered.

Tilting his head, he watched her closely for a moment. She looked away, uneasy under his stare. Seeing it had him wanting nothing more than to comfort her the way she always did for him. “You okay, darlin’?”

“Yeah.” She offered him a reassuring smile, though it trembled around the edges. When he reached for her, cupped his hands around her face, her eyes widened. “Adam, what—”

“Don’t think,” he urged, taking her mouth in his. Though he could still taste the whiskey that had gotten him into this mess, the flavor of her kiss overpowered it. He delved deeper, his hands drawing back into her length of blonde hair and fisting there, desperate and eager. When she moaned, low within her throat, he felt a bolt of satisfaction course through him. He could feel her giving in, and his own response to it came as naturally as breathing.

Her heart ached and bucked, tormented by the thrill of what she’d wanted for so long. Her fingers clenched over his T-shirt, the familiar blend of whiskey and his cologne filling her senses. The feel of his body pressing her into the sofa sent her mind spinning with need, utterly lost in it. But she knew, Lord, deep down she knew he didn’t mean any of it.

And that was what hurt the most.

“Please, stop,” she begged, pulling away from him. She straightened her blouse where his hands had lifted it, feeling more than a fool. Tears welled in her eyes as she got to her feet, needing to put distance between them. “I can’t do this, Adam. I just can’t. I’m so sorry.”

He struggled to get his breath, confused by her refusal. When he saw the agony in her eyes, he hated himself for causing it. “Don’t be sorry, Brandy.”

She hugged herself, unable to look at him. “You can stay as long as you need. I’m going to bed. Goodnight.”

Disappearing into her bedroom, she made the painful decision of locking her door. It was more to keep herself from rushing back to him than it was to keep him out.

When she heard her front door slam shut, she allowed the first tears to fall down her cheeks.

A
fter a restless night’s sleep, it took all of Ava’s willpower to slip on her running shoes and sweatshirt and head out into the brisk morning air.

She was too dedicated to her routine to skip a day, no matter how sluggish she felt. Forcing her numb legs to move, she jogged out of the house and along the gravel driveway, ear buds blasting out some peppy Carrie Underwood tune to shock her brain awake.

Soon her body began to heat, pumping blood to her limbs and quickening her breath. The sun broke through the foggy haze, casting an orange glow over the fields.

A popping sound caught her attention, had her tearing out the ear buds to see if it was just a glitch in the music. She stopped running, listened.

When she heard it again, she recognized the sound. Gunshots. Her gaze locked on the shooting range that was only a hundred yards or so away, and saw someone taking aim at the targets. More popping sounds shattered the quiet morning air as whoever it was slammed lead into bales of hay.

She took off at a run again, wondering who it was. As she approached, she recognized her father’s crop of brown hair and dusty green jacket.

“Mornin’!” she called out, smiling now as she came up behind him. He glanced over his shoulder, lowering the pistol he’d aimed downrange. He popped out the bright yellow earplugs he wore and placed the gun on the wooden table in front of him.

“Mornin’.” Ty’s mouth lifted in a smile, though she saw the strain behind it. He looked like he hadn’t slept, either.

She nodded at the case of .22 ammo resting on the table. “Blowing off some steam?”

“Something like that,” Ty replied, stuffing his gloved hands into his coat pockets. His breath streamed out in a white cloud. “Just had a lot on my mind.”

“We all have.” Sympathetic, she went to him for a hug, pleased when he held her close. “I feel like we’ve barely spent any time together. Even with you being at home now, I hardly ever see you.”

“It’s been an adjustment bringing the business home,” he admitted, kissing the top of her head before she pulled away. He gave her chin a light tap, his face softening. “How’ve you been holding up?”

“Oh, fine.” She brushed off his concern, though she wanted nothing more than to share her doubts with him. Her suspicion that he was keeping something from her. “Brandy called me last night, said Beau nearly arrested Adam for drunk driving. Thankfully, she talked him out of it, only on the condition that I keep a closer eye on him.”

Ty sighed, shaking his head. “When will that boy learn?”

“I’m afraid until he does something he can’t take back, like hurting somebody, he won’t,” Ava told him, both angry and miserable at the thought. “I don’t know how else to get through to him. I can’t just lock him up in his room day and night.”

“You’ll figure something out.” Ty patted her on the shoulder and turned away. He began loading more rounds into the magazine of his pistol. “If anything were to happen to me or your mother, I’d need you to take care of Adam. You were always so much stronger than him.”

Ava’s brow tightened as she came up beside him. “You say that so ominously. Is everything all right?”

“Everything’s fine, baby.” Ty popped the magazine back into the pistol, racked the slide. He stared at it for a long moment, as if searching for the right words to say. When he spoke, she picked up on a notable sadness in his tone. “You know I’m proud of you, don’t you?” he asked, angling his head to meet her eyes. “You’ve grown into such an incredible woman, Ava. And I love you very much.”

A jolt of panic shot through her, unsettled by the words he so rarely said. “I love you too, Daddy. Are you sure nothing’s wrong?”

“Yes.” He looked down range as the sun crested over the trees. “I’ve raised you to trust in family, no matter what. But I need you to promise me something.”

“Anything.” She rested her hand on his shoulder, seeking to comfort them both. He was scaring the hell out of her. “What is it?”

His dark eyes unfocused, as if he were lost in some old memory. “Never try and contact your relatives in Ireland. As far as you’re concerned, they don’t exist.”

Thrown off by his request, she urged him to look at her. “What are you talking about? Have you even met them before?”

“No.” He gave her a small smile, then tucked his ear plugs back in. “Just promise me, okay? I’ll see you back at the house.”

Her lips parted with confusion as he angled away from her, holding the pistol in his hand. He fired at the target, a swift succession of pops that, given the hardened lines of his face, seemed driven by rage. By hate.

For the first time in her life, she looked at her father like he was a stranger. She backed away from him, a million questions racing through her mind. Not knowing what else to do, she took off at a sprint, her speed that of someone running for their life.

COOPER KICKED
back in Ty’s desk chair, cell phone to his ear. He rubbed his temple, hating to have accomplished so little since arriving in Fox Hills. Not only was it a blow to his pride, it was also a misstep for his career. If he couldn’t put all the pieces together, he may never get that promotion that would bring him one step closer to hunting the real threat to U.S. national security.

“We’re just not finding much of anything,” he explained to his boss, staring at Ty’s desktop wallpaper in frustration. It was a recent picture of Ty and his wife, smiling together at what looked like Niagara Falls. “We have on record all the deposits to the Swiss account, found where he filed the transactions in his financials to avoid paying taxes, but it ends there. I can’t find evidence proving he gave Ned the account number or the access code to withdraw the money. We’re still checking the phone records, but that’ll take days. Maybe weeks.”

“
What about that email you found? The one about ‘knowing she’s with you’?
” Assistant Director Ron Horvath asked, the distinct sound of Jersey in his gruff voice. Cooper heard him slurping his treasured cup of coffee, likely his third that day. And, Cooper thought as he checked his watch, it was barely past ten o’clock in the morning.