Grant A month later... “It’s completely sold out.” “What do you mean, it’s sold out?” Ace’s eyes dance from Lincoln’s to mine, and then back again. Lincoln snorts a laugh. “I know I’m the smartest of the three of us, but there’s no hidden meaning, Ace.” He nods at me to finish the details. It was mine, after all. “Foxx Bourbon’s Cowboy Edition is completely sold out. We’ve gone ahead and created a collector’s edition of a completely new and original blend in one fucking weekend!” Ace smiles big and wide.
Griz mumbles, “Told you.” “Shut it, old man,” Ace says, still with a smile on his face. “How many bottles did we ke ep?” “Two cases. Everything else has been claimed for tastings that kick off in” — Lincoln looks down at his watch — “’Bout an hour. And the rest are pickups for attendees. If they don’t claim their bottle in twenty - four hours, then it’ll go to our waiting list. “You think we should ke ep making it? Let this edition be our special edition, and then change up the bottles?” I look at my brothers, and then over to Griz. “You’re asking me?” Ace shrugs. “Your bourbon, your decision.” I glance toward the stables, where Laney is walking with Lily and Lark. They’re talking about something with their arms flailing and the girls laughing. She didn’t lie about being really fucking good at throwing big parties. There are carnival rides set in the front of the distillery, where kids and families stay entertained. Local bands on a main stage behind the distillery, performing all day. And then VIP guests and ticketed lovers of bourbon filtering throughout the property. Tastings from local chefs p aired with all our blends for a Bourbon Brunch. Tonight, Crescent De Lune pr epared a VIP dessert tasting to top it off. The adult - only tasting also features Romey’s Hemp Chocolates, and Marla opened Hooch’s for one day only to tourists who wanted to try a “real Kentucky dinner.” “Let’s do it.” Lincoln clears his throat. “So does this mean there’s another master taster joining my team?” “Only when you want me there. That job is all you, big brother.” I clap him on the shoulder and squeeze. “I want you there. Period.” “Proud of you boys,” Griz says as he stands from the stool he’s been perched on for most of the day. It’s smack dab in the middle of the distillery that can be seen from every angle with the way that the double doors around the space are open. He’d said he ’s as much of an attraction as the bourbon itself. It’s true. Ace told him to fuck off, but people stood in line to shake his hand and talk to him about what it was like growing up and seeing his family flourish in this business. He grasps Lincoln’s shoulder and gives me a smirk. “I knew that girl was going to be good for us.”
Ace drains his glass. “Grant, no more secrets like this one. It may not have started as our business, but you damn near saved us from tanking this year after losing that rickhouse.” He claps his hand on my other shoulder and squeezes. And then does the sam e to Griz. It’s the first time in a long time that I feel proud of what I’ve helped build. “To no more secrets.” Lincoln raises his glass, and we clink our glasses and cheers. “What the hell, how am I left out of this circle jerk right now?” Hadley laughs out from the doorway. Ace just grumbles and turns away to stalk off somewhere as Griz starts cackling. “Hadley Jean, get your ass over here,” Griz says to her. Lincoln gives her some dumb - ass handshake they’ve been doing for decades as he leaves with me to go find our girls at the stables. “Dad! You have got to try the stuffed croissant that Laney got for us,” Lily says as we get closer. Laney greets me with her sweet smile. Every time she does, my chest warms, and I can’t help but lean into it. The way she refused to leave my side as my leg healed, how she doted on Jul ep when she came home from the vet in a cast for her broken hind leg. I ’d discovered that Laney was more than just funny and beautiful. She was sexy and kind. She was caring and sassy. She became my partner in every way. And I love her a little harder every single day. She wraps her arms around my neck as I slip mine around her waist. I lift her up just enough off the ground to kiss her. “You guys are gross,” Lark says while Lincoln and the girls walk off in search of something sweet to top off their night. That has us smiling against each other's lips. She tilts her head back. “The hat was a good choice.” She told me the only requirement she had of me today was to wear the black cowboy hat she brought home last night. “How long have you been wanting me to wear this?” She squints one eye, pretending to think about it. “Literally the first time I saw you.” I lean up against her cheek so the next few words are only heard by her. “Wouldn’t mind seeing it on you later.” I can feel her smile against my scruff. “Just the hat?”
I give her a slow nod as she smiles. Damn, I love it when she looks at me like that. “Tell me what else, cowboy.” “How about I show you?” I give her a knowing smirk. But she has no idea what I have planned for her. Her eyes flare. “Yes, please.” I link our fingers and walk with her toward the top floor of the distillery. It’s a spot that I hadn’t learned about until I was in my early twenties. It wasn’t something that many people knew existed. It was only meant for Foxxes and whomever else we want ed to share it with. And I want to share everything with this woman. With her lips still painted in that red she loves so much, Laney bites it, making me want to do the same. “Where are we going? I didn’t think anything was down here exc ept offices.” She laughs out, “Grant, are you going to have your way with me on top of A ce’s desk?” I stop in my tracks. “Wasn’t on my agenda tonight, but now that you mention it . . .” She laughs so loud that I do the same. The artwork displayed along the corridor is a mix of old and new. Paintings that are worth plenty and photos that are older than Griz. But to the left of the small gallery is a Foxx Bourbon logo. The newest version that Ace had rebranded when he took thing s over. The wrought - iron F intertwined with an outline of a fox isn’t there just for show; it has another purpose. I tilt the logo up and the wall slides open as a hidden door. Laney breathes out a laugh as her jaw drops with excitement. “Are you kidding me?” I lead us both into the dimly lit space and close the door behind us, but when I raise the chandelier lights a little brighter, that's when she sees it. Her hands cover her mouth as she gasps. “Grant, is that — ” “Took me a little while to find the right one. There are plenty online, but the version they had in Coney Island in the nineties was a little bit different. This Zoltar machine took a little longer to find.” I rub my hand along my neck as I watch her move closer. I hope she likes it. She quietly walks around it, examining the lever to pull. I’m second guessing myself as she says absolutely nothing in response. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea, after all.
“Say something.” She smirks. “Since when does silence bother you?” “Since I’m watching my fiancée not offer any of her tells that give away if she thinks this was a great idea or if I just tanked in the surprises d epartment.” Tilting her head, she pinches a piece of her hair between her fingers. I smile to myself. I did good. “Show me how it works.” She smiles with tears rimming her eyes. I pull out a token from my pocket that’s been there waiting for this exact moment and insert it into the slot. This particular Zoltar machine had been in a Manhattan museum, according to the person I negotiated with. It didn’t need money in order to operat e, but it needed a coin to shoot into Zoltar’s mouth. Then the ticket would come. With the coin positioned along the track, Laney studies the timing as Zoltar opens and closes his mouth. But before she releases it, she says, “This is the most unexpected — ” she cuts herself off, trying to swallow the emotion that surfaces. “And I love you so much for it.” Wrapping her arms around my neck, she kisses me hard. When we pull back, our foreheads stay connected for just a moment before she presses another quick kiss to my lips, and then turns back toward the fortune teller, or “future teller” as she called it. “Make a wish, baby.” That was the point of this thing. It was a silly carnival game that held nostalgia and memories for her, which meant I’d do just about anything to give her a part of the past she had left behind. She reaches into the covered slot to retrieve her ticket and flicks her eyes up to meet mine. “Where did you say you got this particular machine again?” “I didn’t. I worked with a guy that Griz knew.” I watch her face crack, barely holding back a laugh. “Why?” I deadpan. I knew I shouldn’t have trusted one of Griz’s guys. “The Zoltar in Coney Island was a little less . . . detailed. Those futures tended to be more about when to travel the world or if there was a happy reunion on the horizon, and then some lucky numbers.” I hold out my hand, but she backs up. “What’s on that card?” She bites her lower lip and clears her throat. “When things get hard” — she looks at me and smiles — “it’s up to you to take the reins. Sometimes the best types of control come when you
submit. Your future is more of a penance this time around. Acc ept five spankings by hand or belt.” “Jesus Christ, Laney.” Groaning, I drag my hands through my hair. Mortified. She holds up her hand. “I’m not done reading my future. Hold your horses, cowboy.” “Funny.” At least she’s amused. “May pleasure be forever in your favor. My lucky numbers are 6 and 9.” Looking up from the card, she smiles cheekily. “Good numbers.” I rub at the back of my neck. “Honey, I promise I didn’t – ” “It’s honestly an even better surprise now that I know this puppy is chock full of dirty deeds.” She leans against the side of the machine where fucking Zoltar still has his mouth open. Reaching down, she grabs two handfuls of her long skirt in her fist, h iking it up higher as she watches me. “I’d like to collect on that future now, cowboy.” My cock is hard by the time the bottom of her skirt hits the tops of her bite - worthy thighs. I walk backward toward the same wall where the hidden door slides open and press the lock. “Belt or hand, honey?” “Dealer’s choice.” She holds up her skirt high enough now that I can see her panties. I take a seat in the brown leather club chair that’s to my right. “My wife wants me to redden up her sweet little ass?” “Not your wife just yet, baby.” “You know I like practicing. Now show me how wet you are just thinking about being spanked.” She moves her panties to the side, revealing her delicious pussy. I fucking salivate, thinking about how she tastes. “Drag two fingers through those pretty lips and show me how wet, honey.” She does exactly as I ask. Her fingers shiny with her arousal as she holds them out. “Taste.” She st eps closer, but I stop her. “Not me. You. Taste.” With her skirt bunched up with one hand and a strap from her white tank falling from one shoulder, I watch her lick her fingers. So damn sexy.
I unbuckle my belt and crook my finger for her to come to me. When she walks closer, she’s such a good fucking girl that she waits for me to tell her what to do next. “Turn around.” She turns her body so her back is to me, looking over her shoulder with those big blues. “Touch your toes.” The way red flares up her neck and her eyes widen slightly, she wasn’t expecting it. And fuck, do I love throwing her off. Widening her stance, she bends forward, forcing her panties to ride up the crack of her plump ass. My fingers loop around the waistband and roll them down her legs. I lean closer to her ear and whisper, “Hands on the chair, baby.” She’s going to need some leverage. Sucking in an audible breath with the demand, she does as she’s told. Her skirt falls slightly with the movement, so I bunch it up around her waist and rub a small circle around right before I give her one swift smack on her ass that pulls the tiniest noise from her lips. When I rub that spot and do it again, this time, she stays quiet. “You okay, honey?” She inhales, and on the exhale, laughs, “More than okay.” “Good,” I say, and then follow it up with three good slaps that leave her with a pinkened cheek that’ll be long gone by the time we’re done in here. And now, I’m hungry. I drop to my knees and spread her open, growling into her as my tongue swipes her slit. I glide my thumbs along each side of her ass cheeks and spread her open even more so I can reach and roll my tongue against her clit. The moment I circle it, she moans, long and low, her ass wiggling back for more. As easy as it would be to bury my cock in her right now, I want to finish out this impromptu fantasy. I stand and take a st ep back, admiring how perfect she looks bent over that chair. She peeks over her shoulder. “Where’d you go, cowboy?” I look down at the black hat I tossed on the table when we came here. The lights are dim and warm, bathing her in a hue that makes those pretty lips painted red look even more pouty than usual. She twists her body so she’s sitting on that club chair, gazin g up at me. “You want to try out those lucky numbers now, too?” She wiggles her eyebrows. Chuckling, I pluck the hat off the table with two fingers and twirl it in my hand. “No, honey.” I tilt her mouth toward mine and bend lower to kiss her, letting my thumb rub along her bottom lip. And then I watch that red lipstick smudge along the side of her chin. Fuck, I’ve wanted to see her like this — messy and willing to do whatever I ask of her.
I run my hand down from her chin to her neck and glide it past her shoulder, letting my fingers glide along her arm and down her wrist until her fingers line up with mine. I lift her hand and guide her up out of the chair. When she stands, I place the hat on her head. She watches me do it with a tiny, knowing smirk that kicks up along the right side of her mouth. I’ll never get over the way she looks at me. She pulls the other strap of her white tank down, and the move has the tank sliding just enough so it teases me with the tops of her breasts. The allure of her is almost as gratifying as having her. Almost . Grabbing at her skirt again, she drags it higher, showing me the edges of her pussy. “You taking me for a ride?” I don’t answer. Instead, I flip open the button to my pants and fold down the zipper. She studies me doing it, biting at that lip like she can’t wait to hear what else I want. “Take it out,” I demand. I can’t see her eyes from under the brim of that hat, but I can hear her breath hitch when her hand finds how hard I am. Fuck, she’s good for my ego. I sit back in the club chair. “I think it’s a good time for that lesson. You wanted to learn how to ride? Be my good girl and ride me.” She doesn’t hesitate. She st eps closer, throwing one leg over my spread thighs and then straddling me, hovering right above my cock and lining her pussy right up. Holding her skirt nice and high, she sinks down onto my length with a sigh. I’ll never take f or granted how good this feels. She rolls her hips forward to find just the right spot. The sweet sounds she makes have me eager to fuck up into her, but she’s supposed to be riding me, and I want this to last. “Like this, sir?” My eyes dart up to her smirking face, and I rub my hand over my mouth. She’s playing right along. “That’s it. Shoulders back, tits out, baby.” I bite back the smile from this little role - play moment, rubbing my thumb along the tip of her hard nipple. “Now squeeze when you’re ready to move.” Leaning back, I grip the front of her skirt that’s fallen from her grasp and pull it up and tight. I want to see it. Fuck. The way she’s rolling her hips, slow and de ep, is working me over so damn good. “Look at how we fit together, baby.”
I meet her gaze and then look down at where we’re connected, urging her to do the same. To see the way I’m so de ep inside of her and how she moves so that I can hit her just the way she likes. I lick the pad of my thumb and bring it to her clit. With a whimper, she grinds down onto me and rolls her hips faster. I’m so damn close, but I won’t let go until she does. “That’s my girl, making herself feel good on her man’s cock.” “Oh god,” she groans, and then breathily says my name. “Grant.” “This pussy is mine, isn’t it?” I squeeze my eyes shut. Fuck, I’m so close. She chases her orgasm that I know is quickly rushing through her. “Yes,” she answers, just as her body tenses, and she leans forward, trying to hit everything she needs to get there. Crying out, her body bows, and she falls apart, her pussy squeezing me an d pulsing so tight that I fall right over with her. The reality of spilling inside of her, claiming every part of her, finishes me. Her sweaty forehead meets mine as our bodies take turns working out what's left. “How did I do?” I smile, my eyes still closed. “Might need a few more lessons. You got a little wild there for a sec — Ow!” I laugh from her pinching my side. “Laney, that was the best ride of my life.” She nuzzles her cheek into my touch as I curl a piece of her wild strawberry - tinted hair around my finger and tuck it behind her ear. When she sighs, the sound of it makes my chest feel even warmer. I had never allowed myself to think of a moment like this one. A life like this. The life where I get to share it with a partner. The part where I’d figure out all the ways I could love a person. Even on our hardest day, I was happy alongside her. “A little more every day.” I run my fingers through her hair and down her back. “A little more every day,” I say back to her. A promise we made when I asked her for forever. She kisses my chest, right over my heart, before she says, “Now it’s your turn. Pour me some good bourbon, cowboy, and let’s go for a ride.” Epilogue Laney “D on ’ t ,” Grant said, his tone serious, but he knew I wasn’t going to listen, which is why he smiled as he said it. He knew by the smirk on my face that there was no way I was listening to him. Not with an audience and armed with a piece of bourbon - vanilla cake i n my hand.
Tonight was the eighty - fourth wedding I had planned. And out of all of them, it was my favorite, because it was mine. “Open,” Grant says with a forkful of our wedding cake hovering in front of me. “Mmm, it tastes even better now,” I say with a mouthful. The hammock swings gently as I let my bare foot skim the grass beneath. “I agree, because,” he says over a bite, “the first piece I had got shoved so far up my nose, I don’t think I really savored the flavor.” I can’t stop the laugh that bubbles out of me as he kisses my head. He had held up a piece, and like a good husband, led it to me with minimal mess. I even licked a bit of frosting from his thumb as stealthily as I could. But when it came time to do the same for him, I went for it. I held it to his mouth, and just as he op ened, I flicked my hand higher, smushing it on his mustache and slightly up his nose. He got me back. He snagged me around the waist and kissed me de eply as Italian buttercream slid around my mouth and down to my neck when he k ept going. The hoots and hollers from our small wedding party egged it on. It was one of the dozens of memories from today that will never leave me. I walked down the aisle toward Grant in a pair of white cowboy booties and the prettiest cream - colored dress I had ever seen. I wanted to wait so we could get married outside in the field of wildflowers behind our home, so I chose a short, flowy dress from Loni’s, a pair of custom cowboy boots from a designer in New York, and a certain German Shorthaired Pointer as my guide. It felt only right to have Jul ep as my escort — she was my guardian. There was no other way to put it. And I was lucky enough to be join ing her family. “I don’t smell it as strongly anymore,” I say, taking a sip from the round silver flask that Hadley had given to me this morning. “The air doesn’t smell the same. It does, but I think I’ve gotten so used to it now that I don’t notice it.” “It’s because you’re a Foxx now,” he says in that de ep voice that hits me right in the gut and sends goosebumps down my arms. “That’s not a thing.” “You’ve been smelling a lot of bourbon, tasting new things, your senses are being conditioned. It’s a real thing. It just means you’re one of us.” I smile at that, swinging slowly on our hammock and thinking about the day.
Grant stood in front of me, holding my hand as he slid on a diamond ring to join my finger that had been wearing his nana’s band. His eyes watered as he said his vows. “I promise to love you. In this life, but also in the next. You’re the part I never beli eved in. The kind of partner I didn’t understand. Until you got here, I didn’t know. But now that I do, I vow to stand next to you always, behind you for backup, and in front of you for protection.” “Griz seemed to know how to whip you around that dance floor,” he laughs. “He might have strained his back when he spun me,” I say, wincing a little.” The Doobie Brothers played over the speakers in what should have been the father - daughter dance, but it felt like my dad was there as his favorite band played. Griz was a great stand - in. We have a standing breakfast date every Monday morning before I head into the distillery, and he makes his way there every afternoon for a survey of the place. Grant and his brothers think it’s Griz’s way of ke eping tabs, but I just think it’s his way to stay tied to something he loves so de eply. My husband starts humming a little Fleetwood Mac. “Go Your Own Way” isn’t a typical wedding song, but our story isn’t very typical either. “Happiest day of my life, Mrs. Foxx,” Grant says with a mouthful of cake. I smile and look up from his chest. “So far . . .” “Yeah, baby. So far . . .” Grant The humidity finally broke, and it’s the first autumn night that actually feels like it. The heat lamps crackle every time a bug flies into it, but they’re ke eping us warm so we can still enjoy dinner out on the patio. Ace flips the banana pancake onto the stack he just piled at the center of the table. “I didn’t do chocolate chips this time. Cinnamon and banana seemed like it would be sweet enough.” Hadley chimes in, “Did you want us to skip the syrup too, Atticus? “Atticus?” “Is that what happens when you hit your forties? You stop adding fun to pancakes and start r epeating what people say?” She looks around the table, with Griz laughing at the head. Griz cups his ear. “Say that again?” That gains a laugh from everyone at the table exc ept Ace.
Hadley swats at the air in front of her. “Anyway, I have some fun news.” She looks around. “I just hired a resident burlesque dancer.” “For what?” Hadley looks at Lincoln like he’s an idiot for asking. Sarcastically, she says, “For invigorating conversations.” She rolls her eyes. “For Midnight Proof, obviously. I want more than just the jazz band for entertainment. It’s such a good idea. Laney’s idea , actually.” My wife smiles at her. “Plus, she’s a total smokeshow now. I kind of have a crush on her.” She waves that off. “Anyway, I’m sure you’ll see her around.” Hadley’s eyes widen as she leans over the table to see where Lily and Lark have gone. I follow her line of sight, and both girls are on the couch, already engrossed in something on their tablets. She whisper - shouts, pointing at Lincoln, “You will not, I re peat, will not take my new girl for a whirl.” He sits back with a smirk. “Seriously, Hads?” She looks around at me, Ace, then Griz. “Your slut - astic es capades are not coming anywhere near Midnight Proof. Do I make myself clear? She needs a good ol’ small town welcome, not HPV as a welcome present.” “First of all, fuck you. I’m not giving anyone HPV.” “As far as you know . . .” The two of them are like a variety show, always have been, and sometimes I do wonder if she’s really our sister with the amount of grief she dishes to Linc and Ace. “Wait what do you mean ‘she’s a smokeshow now?’ Is she from Fiasco?” Linc asks. She crosses her arms, giving him a glare. “No. I should have never mentioned this.” She points at him. “We’re not talking about her because I don’t want to hear how she has to quit because you’re not calling her back or how you need to know which nights sh e’s working to avoid coming in or some dumb shit.” Chugging his water, he slams the glass down, slightly out of breath. “Are you okay?” Ace asks her hesitantly. She rolls her eyes at him. “Yeah, Daddy, just fine.” “Jesus Christ,” he huffs out as Lark calls for him.
“Uncle Ace, the Wi - Fi isn’t working,” she croons from the next room. Hadley leans across the table and smiles. “It’s like a drug. I can’t help myself with him. It’s like the how - much - can - I - make - Ace - uncomfortable Olympics.” “Gold medal work, Hads,” Linc says. She salutes him. “Seriously, though, hands off the new girl. You bourbon boys and fresh meat . . .” Laney leans her head on my shoulder and squeezes my knee. “Was that the appeal?” She wiggles her eyebrows. “Fresh meat?” I kiss her lips. “I hadn’t had any meat for years before you showed up. It was all you, baby.” She smiles up at me. “You two are so cute, I think I was just smiling at you both for no reason,” Hadley says. “Now my face hurts.” “Calm down, Hadley Jean. Your time will come. Don’t get your knickers in a bunch.” Griz smiles at her over his bourbon. “That’s the problem, Griz. There’s no one getting in my knickers.” “How about a little rumor for ya, then? I’ve got some good gossip about who is gettin’ some,” Griz says, resting his elbows on the table. “Dish!” she says as she gets up, rounding the table. Ace comes back in, sending her a disciplinary look. “Why are you encouraging him?” She flutters her lashes at him. “He’s the only one with anything interesting happening around here.” “Haven’t we had enough ‘interesting’ for a little while?” She laughs, clapping her hands like it’s the funniest thing — which, to be fair, when she’s on a run with putting my brothers in their place, it’s hilarious. “Yup, it’s official, you’ve become the boring brother. I thought Grant had you beat, but then he wen t and leveled up with Laney.” I couldn’t help but smile at the backhanded Hadley - compliment. It was a small thing, getting together every Friday night for breakfast at dinnertime with my family. Some weeks, we had to skip it for some reason or another, but most of the time, everyone ma de it a priority. They became just as much Laney’s family as they were mine.
When she wasn’t with me, she was with Hadley, getting into some kind of trouble, but outside of that, she worked hard alongside my brothers. Building our family business as if she’d always been there. Only now, she had her own staff, a few people who helpe d her run the small events we took on at the distillery and inside the new barn that was erected in place of the rickhouse that had burned down. “Thank you,” she whispers to me. And I know what she means. “For a family.” I kiss the side of her head, dragging my fingers lazily along where the hem of her skirt meets her thigh. Damn, I love this woman. I lean into her and lower my voice. “What do you say we cut out of here and practice.” She tilts her head back to meet my eyes. “Practice?” I smirk. “Want to practice making it bigger?” She looks down at my lap. And the smile that takes over her face and reaches her eyes, crinkling them at the sides, is the best one I’ve gotten all day. “It?” she says, biting her lip. “I meant our family — " “Looks like I’m already really good at making things bigger, cowboy.” I mumble, “Jesus Christ,” as I drag my hand over my mouth. Pushing her chair out, she drops her napkin on the table, and then leans in close. I stare at those pretty lips of her as she whispers, “And this time, I’m not lying.” “About what, honey?” Her lips skim just below by ear when she whispers, “I’m not wearing any panties.” THE END Want more of Grant and Laney? Scan below for the Extended Epilogue. The Extended Epilogue to Bourbon & Lies