Whiskey Rebellion Read online



  He nods. “I shouldn’t have asked that.”

  “No, ya should have,” I answer before kissing Belle’s nose. “I know what they’re saying in the papers.”

  “But they’re not true.”

  I make a face as I shrug. So, he didn’t believe them. That’s good to know. “They aren’t all lies either, though.” I can feel him watching me. “I’ve been to the clinic. Actually, I went the day after I was with you.” He doesn’t answer me, and when I look up at him, his face is stone. “Everything came back negative, but I had a reason to go.”

  “I was the reason?”

  “No,” I say quickly, looking away. “I slept with someone the night before you, and I didn’t remember it.” I meet his gaze once more as my face warms. “I remember going back to the penthouse with him, I just don’t remember the act.” He looks away, nodding. “But Jackson, when ya asked, I should have told ya that, not freaked out the way I did. So, I’m sorry. I’m guessing I am a bit of a hoor.”

  His gaze bores into mine. “You’re not, and stop thinking that way. It’s beneath you.”

  My heart’s in my throat as I whisper, “Oh.”

  “Yeah, it’s bullshit, and stop using that as a reason to justify your actions. You know you’re not a whore, and I know it. So stop using that. You’re just lost.”

  “What?” I ask breathlessly, my eyes so wide they hurt.

  But he shakes his head. “Let’s get out of here.”

  “What?”

  “Can you leave?”

  “Um, yeah, I guess.”

  He nods before mounting Belle, and when he looks down to me, I just gaze up at him in all his glory. While the maroon work suit isn’t that sexy, I still think he’s stunning in it. “Where are we going?”

  Reaching down for me, he says, “Do you trust me?”

  Taking his hand, I nod. “Yes, I trust you.”

  He pulls me up onto the horse with him. As I wrap myself around him, I feel his heat, setting me on fire as I take in his masculine smell.

  “All right, hold on to me.”

  So I do.

  Lena is wrapped around me, and I’m trying to think of everything else other than taking her right here on the back of this horse.

  As we ride, our bodies moving together with each gallop, I can’t help but take in the beautiful scenery. The sky is the most gorgeous shade of blue, and everything is so lush. A light drizzle has started, but it’s nothing to worry about. Or at least, I don’t worry. Lena might since today she looks more like the portrait than ever before. She doesn’t say anything, though, her head resting on my back as her hands hold me tight around my waist.

  Her apology was honest.

  But it wasn’t enough.

  I want more.

  When I cut right hard, Belle adapts like a champ. We go around the whole castle, to the back of the land where the day before I had found an amazing little spot. When I see it, a grin pulls at my lips as I slow Belle down, clicking my tongue to her. “Attagirl.”

  When she comes to a stop, swishing her tail before shaking her head to clear out her mane, I lovingly tap her neck. “Good girl,” I whisper before I get off. Looking at Lena, I reach up to help her down.

  But her eyes are trained on me. “You’ve ridden before?”

  “Oh, yeah. I have my own girl at home,” I answer as I put her to her feet. “Manchester is her name, and she’s beautiful.” Soon I’m pulling out my phone, showing her the picture of Manchester and me right before I left.

  “Oh, she’s stunning.”

  “She is,” I say with a grin. “I miss her.”

  “How long did you say you’s been gone?”

  “Over a year now.”

  “Wow.”

  “Yeah, it’s been awesome.” Stepping away from Lena, I reach for Belle’s reins to tuck them into her harness so they aren’t in the way as she feeds. Tapping her hind leg, I walk past her and point over to where some trees have formed into almost a bench. “Over here.”

  Lena looks and then smiles. “There are stories about this part of the land.”

  I look back to her. “Yeah?”

  “Yeah, they say fairies live here.”

  “Fairies?”

  “Yup.”

  “Little humans with wings?”

  She giggles. “Yeah, honestly. They made this. And all this tall grass is the fairy homes.” I look around, and she’s right. There is tall grass and then some cut grass. I’m not sure why, but before I can ask, she goes on, “The saying is, if the grass grows quicker and higher than the rest, with a slight slope, it’s a fairy home. Ya cut it, yer in for a world of hurt.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah, the last man that cut the homes fell off his mower, and it ran over him.”

  I scrunch up my face. “You’re a liar!”

  “No, honestly. No one will cut it since. And it never grows any higher. Just like this. It’s a home for the fairies.” She walks past me, inhaling deeply. “Ya smell the honey?”

  I do, and when I look to her in amazement, she smiles. “There aren’t honeysuckle bushes around. It’s just the way the fairies smell.”

  “Crazy,” I draw out, and she nods.

  “Me ma used to tell me that this little bench is a bench for thinking,” she said, going around the “fairy homes” and sitting down slowly, testing the strength of the wood.

  Following her lead, I look to her. “I stepped through this yesterday.”

  Her eyes widen. “And ya aren’t dead? Jaysus, they must have felt bad for ya since yer not Irish.”

  I smile as she grins back at me. She looks majestic sitting there. Her hair is so light and long down her back. It has started to fall out of the bun she had, and I can see more of the color. “Ma said the fairies made this for people to come think of their transgressions and to fix them the best they can. I actually forgot it was out here.”

  I sit down beside her and take it in. “It’s beautiful here.”

  “It is,” she agrees as she swallows. We sit for a moment, the sounds of the lake behind us. A few geese are back there, and I think I just saw a frog. “So ya forgive me?”

  I look back at her, and I shrug. “I was never mad.”

  “Ya should have been.”

  “No, I should have waited until we were in private to ask. I have a tendency to lose all sense of, I guess, sense when I’m around you.”

  A little smile pulls at her lips. “Still, I was a bitch.”

  “You were, but it is what it is,” I answer, leaning on my legs, careful not to toe the edge of the fairy home. She has me on edge. I really don’t want to die here. “I just wish you’d calm it with the whore bit.”

  “It isn’t a bit.”

  “I think it’s a cover. Oh, I act this way, let me say I’m a whore so you’ll feel bad for me.”

  She glares at me. “That’s not what I’m doing at all.”

  “I don’t think you’re meaning to,” I say then, meeting her heated gaze. “I think you have so much going on inside of you that you don’t know how to process it all. Which leads to the excessive drinking and the drugs—and men.”

  “Ah, so you’s read the papers.”

  I shake my head. “No, I won’t. And I won’t listen to the people around town. I want to know everything from you. From your mouth. I don’t care what anyone else says. I care what you say.”

  “Then how do you know about the drinking, drugs, and men?”

  I give her a blank look. “You came into my bar, you were hopped up on something, and you picked me up while drinking whiskey with a hangover. I’d say that hits all the points.”

  She looks away, visibly humiliated. “Think ya know me, then?”

  “I know absolutely nothing,” I answer just as a sigh escapes my lips. “Other than we have some pretty great sex, and I want to know everything about you.”

  Her head whips around, looking over at me. “Ya do?”

  “I do.” I look out at the little lake as the