For Love & Bourbon (18 page)

“Your number, for starters.”

Ava rolled her eyes. “Oh, geez. C’mon, Don Juan, time to move along now.” She pulled him away from the bar.

Cooper faced Brandy, amused as Ava and Marco began to bicker. He held out his hand politely. “I’m Agent Cooper Lawson. That handsome devil over there is my partner, Agent Marco D’Amico.”

Brandy accepted the handshake, eyes wide. “Oh. You’re with the FBI.”

“Yeah.” He shifted as Marco squeezed in beside him, having freed himself of Ava. “You’ll have to excuse my partner. He left his manners back in D.C.”

“Hey now, she’s not insulted,” Marco shot back. He looked to Brandy. “Are you?”

“Not at all.”

“Good. I kept telling Coop we had to come by this place.”

Ava reached around him for her beer, accidentally brushing up against Cooper as she did so. She caught his eye as she retreated, pleased he’d noticed. “Whiskey Bent’s the best place in town. They serve our full line of whiskeys.”

“Oh, goodie.” Marco rubbed his hands together and nodded to Brandy. “Get me two fingers of Lucky Fox Distiller’s Choice, neat.”

While Brandy served Marco his whiskey, Cooper ordered a beer and turned to Ava. “I have an update for you.”

She brought the bottle to her lips, trying to hide the flicker of dread she felt. “Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah.” He placed his hand on her lower back to steer her to a more private area of the bar. Once there he put as much distance between them as possible.

“Well, what is it?”

“Delta finally got back to us about that plane ticket. They confirmed your father was on that flight, and also found the return flight he booked for three weeks later.”

She let go of the breath she was holding, relieved it was only that. “Okay. Well, I knew that already. Did you get anything else?”

His eyes narrowed, but he didn’t press her on how she knew. “Not yet. We’re still going through his records.”

“All right.” Out of the corner of her eye she spotted Adam making a beeline for the bar. Her mother was nearby, staring after him with concern. One look back at Brandy and she knew exactly what was about to go down. “Oh, shit.”

“What?” Cooper asked.

She practically threw her beer at him. “Hold this.”

In two seconds flat she was at the bar, wrestling Adam back from slugging Marco in the face. “Stop it! Not here.”

Adam panted, red in the face as he glared at Marco, who had jumped to his feet, ready to defend himself. “He’s harassin’ her. Damn it, let me go.”

“Not until you promise me you’ll be civil. Christ, Adam, you’re making a scene. Remember what you told me when I wanted to beat the shit outta Beau?”

He gritted his teeth and stopped struggling. “Not worth it.”

“Exactly. He’s a federal fucking agent. Knock it off.” Ava released him, blowing strands of hair from her face.

Adam’s fists clenched, but he made no move to strike as he squared off with Marco. “I don’t know who you think you are, buddy, but she’s off limits.”

Brandy’s eyebrows rose. Marco simply held up his hands in a peace offering. “Sorry, man. I didn’t realize she was taken.”

“She’s not,” both Brandy and Ava spoke at once, earning a fiery look from Adam and an amused one from Cooper.

Brandy excused herself and went to tend customers at the other end of the bar. Ava rested her hands on her hips and shook her head at Adam. “You’re such a jackass, you know that?”

Adam scowled, but said nothing.

“What’s goin’ on over here?” Sandra asked as she approached, placing a hand on her son’s shoulder. She turned to Ava, who shrugged.

“It’s done, Mama. Nothing to worry about.” She kissed her mother’s cheek, then motioned to Cooper and Marco. “This is Agent Cooper Lawson and his partner, Agent Marco D’Amico.”

“Oh, my.” Sandra smiled politely, not missing a beat. “Well, it’s a pleasure to meet y’all at last. My husband has told me all about you.”

Cooper accepted the hand she offered, charmed by her sunny smile. “Thank you, Mrs. Brannon. I hope we haven’t been too much of an inconvenience to you.”

“Not at all. I love having my Ty at home with me,” Sandra told him. “But I do hope you’re nearly wrapped up with what y’all are doing. We have a business to run.”

“I know, ma’am. Not much longer,” Cooper assured her. He handed Ava back her beer. “I think you left this with me.”

“Thanks, Slick.” Ava downed the last of it and set the bottle on the bar. “All right. Enough of this bickering and seriousness. I wanna dance. C’mon, Mama.”

She started to drag her mother out onto the floor, only to have her resist. “Hold on, now. I’d like to get a drink in me first. Why don’t you see if one of these nice agents would like to dance?”

Adam scoffed and Marco looked expectantly at Cooper, who held up his hands. “Oh, no.”

Ava’s teeth flashed in a grin. Impulse trumped reason as she decided she’d love nothing more than to watch him make a fool of himself. “Oh, yes. It’s time for you to get the real Southern experience, Yankee. Let’s go.”

She grabbed his hand and pulled him with her onto the dance floor, giggling as he nearly tripped over his own feet. He fell into line beside her as the next song geared up and the group around them buzzed with anticipation.

Ava’s eyes glittered as she looked up at him. “You ready for this?”

“Not at all,” he admitted with a sheepish smile. “But I’m willing to learn.”

“Good.” She winked, the image setting his blood on fire. “I’m an excellent teacher.”

The staccato beat of Luke Bryan’s “That’s My Kind Of Night” pumped out of the speakers and the crowd erupted with cheers. Ava joined them and instinctively picked up on the beat, kicking her heels with her hands on her hips.

She shuffled to the left, winding her right foot behind her other leg. Cooper followed her, stumbling to try and mimic the steps. He kept getting mixed up, kicking with his left foot when he was supposed to scuff with the right, doing a full spin when everyone else did a half. Then before he could nail down one of the moves, the crowd would do some crazy stomp, clap, and twirl and be light years ahead of him. He’d never been so confused in all his life—which was embarrassing because it
looked
unbelievably simple.

When Ava glanced over her shoulder and saw him staring down at his shoes in defeat, she burst out laughing.

“C’mon, Slick. Watch me now.” She hooked her arm in his and led him through it, showing him each move. He started to recognize the beat and the chorus and what moves corresponded with what lines in the song, and soon it began to make some sense. He moved with her, having way more fun than he expected.

Finally getting the hang of it, he smiled down at her, realizing that his arm had somehow encircled her waist. He could feel her body tight against his own, vibrating with that incredible energy he’d come to know her for.

She looked at him as the song came to a close, her smile brighter than the sun. His brain told him to back away, to retreat from the flame that burned hot in her eyes. The rest of his body didn’t answer. Instead he felt himself drawing closer, craving that heat.

Ava froze, her face a breath away from his. It clicked in her head then what he intended to do. At first she didn’t know what to make of it. Then she decided to hell with it and angled her mouth toward his until their lips all but touched.

“This should be interesting,” she murmured. She insisted on keeping her eyes open and on his, wondering if he’d go through with it or not. It became something of a test in her mind, a challenge to gauge just how far he was willing to go.

He came to his senses and pulled away, unsure how he had even let himself get into that position. Christ, what was he doing?

“Ava…” he began, easing back from her so they were no longer touching. The music started up again and the dancing continued, though they remained standing stationary on the sidelines, reeling from what they’d nearly done.

“Forget it, Slick. Bad idea anyway, right?” She waved it off like it didn’t matter, but her insides were churning all the same.

He managed a smile. “Right.”

“I need another drink.” She took off, leaving him standing on the dance floor feeling like a complete fool.

H
er first thoughts upon waking were of her father. She let the confirmation of his lie to her simmer low in her gut, unable to shake the feelings of distrust. Did she even know the man? Or was he living some double life involving their family in Ireland and the IRA?

In her heart she believed him to be innocent, or at the very least the object of a great misunderstanding. But her mind refused to let the nagging feelings of doubt go. The FBI believed him to be guilty of funding terrorism or they wouldn’t be there investigating him. None of Cooper’s assurances could shake that fact.

So did that make it true? Had he spent the better part of her life hiding this from her? And if so, what would happen to him once the FBI had proof?

What would happen to Lucky Fox?

Tears sprang into her eyes at the thought, spawned by both fear and anger. How dare he jeopardize everything they had? And for what? For a cause in a faraway land they had no business fighting for?

None of it made any sense. Which was why her heart still tugged at the love she had for him, no matter what the evidence suggested. She loved him, and if he was innocent, then she’d fight to the death to prove it.

The key word being,
if
.

Rolling out of bed, she tugged on her fuzzy white robe and made her way into the kitchen. Despite it being Saturday, her mother was up bright and early preparing breakfast. Ava breathed in the scent of freshly brewed coffee and biscuits baking in the oven, her stomach growling in anticipation. From his bed by the fireplace, Remy perked up with a doggy grin.

Sandra turned and spotted her. “Morning, sunshine. Coffee?”

“Please.” Ava nodded before collapsing into one of the bar stools at the island. Remy danced up to her, licking her hand affectionately.

Her mother poured a cup and brought it to her, knowing she liked it black. “Looks like you had fun last night.”

Because her thoughts immediately drifted to Cooper, Ava frowned. “Yeah. It was okay.”

“Those agents were nice. Given the circumstances, of course.”

“Mmm.” Ava sipped her coffee, not caring that it burned her tongue. Her eyes closed as she savored the hit of caffeine.

“That tall one is quite handsome.”

The twinge of frustrated longing Ava felt only soured her mood further. “He’s a pain the ass is what he is. Everything was going great before he showed up.”

“Now honey, he’s just doin’ his job,” Sandra chided her, turning as the timer rang announcing the biscuits were ready. She removed them from the oven and placed them on a rack to cool. “Soon the truth will be out and everything will be just fine. You’ll see.”

Unnerved by her mother’s words, Ava’s fingers tightened over her coffee mug. As far as she knew, her mother had no knowledge of the IRA or Ty’s supposed connection to it. “You say that like you know what they’re looking for.”

Sandra lifted a shoulder casually, stirring the gravy cooking on the stove. “I know your father is an honorable man. Whatever it is they believe he’s done regarding those back due taxes or what have you will get cleared up in time. Have faith, Ava.”

“I’m trying,” Ava admitted, her breath caught in her throat. She attempted to swallow it down with another sip of coffee, wishing to God she was as oblivious as her mother. Then again, she’d sought the truth, hadn’t she? It wasn’t in her nature to let things lie.

A flash of sunlight reflecting off of metal bounced across the ceiling. Sandra looked outside the kitchen window as Remy let out a throaty yowl and scampered to the door. “Looks like we may have some guests for breakfast.”

“What? Who?” Ava jumped up and went to the window, spotting the black sedan outside. When Cooper and Marco stepped out into the morning light, her chest tightened uncomfortably. “Shit. What do they want now?”

Before her mother could make it to the front door, Ava flung it open and faced the two agents who stood on her front porch. Remy hovered beside her, a cheerful bark erupting out of him.