Page 214 of Property of Whiskey

“Liar.”

She pinches my side.

I catch her hand and hold it.

She lets me.

Another dangerous thing.

“Whiskey?”

“Yeah?”

“What happens tomorrow?”

I hate tomorrow.

Tomorrow means the sheriff, the club, Kaylee, Pearly Gates, Mercy, and some fucked-up deer my kid claims talks to her from the woods. It means Twila eventually has to decide where she belongs in all this, and I have to keep remembering that I don’t get to decide for her.

I look at our joined hands. “Don’t know.”

“That’s surprisingly honest.”

“Usually am.”

She turns her face against my chest. “I can’t keep hiding. Cal will tell daddy I’m with you if he hasn’t already.”

“I know.”

“I can leave tonight. Go home and avoid the drama.”

“I know.”

“I probably should.”

My fingers stop moving through her hair.

“Probably.”

She lifts her head. “You’re supposed to argue.”

“Nope.”

“Why?”

“Because if you stay, I need it to be because you want to.”

Her expression changes. “Stop doing that.”

“What?”

“Being so reasonable.”

“Ruins the big bad biker fantasy?”

“Completely.”

I grin.