Page 55
Fuck.
She flushes. “Oh, well, I’ve been working on a few things. But I wanted to confirm a few details first.” Delilah licks the ice cream cone, licks those pretty, pink lips. “Any particular reason for Labor Day weekend?”
“That’s when we always unveil the new limited-edition whiskey,” my uncle explains. “A whole barrel. We tap it in the tasting yard and let everyone drink as much as they want.”
River grins. “Fall down drunk.”
Wyoma makes a face. “Cleanup is your problem, boys.”
Wells finishes his rocky road. “It’s a big deal this year.”
Delilah cocks her golden head. “Why?”
I cross my arms. “It just is.”
Wyoma cackles. “That’s our Cole. A man of many words.”
“Don’t worry, honey, he’s nicer than he looks.” Vaughn chuckles.
Wells grins. “Cole likes bulls and barrels and not much else.”
“Jesus, you assholes.” I shoot him a glare. My family’s harassment knows no bounds.
Ezra cocks a brow. “My daughter takes criticism better than you do, Cole, and she’s five.”
“Okay, well…” Delilah straightens her shoulders. Excitement lights her eyes. “I was wondering if it would be okay if I reached out to some of the whiskey magazines to see if I could get Weston Whiskey a feature?”
“Like an article?” Ezra asks.
She nods. “Yes. It’s an idea I had. But if you don’t like it—”
“I love it.” Ezra looks around the group. “This could be the kind of press that opens all kinds of new doors.” He exhales, looking lighter than he has in years. “You’re a saint, Del.”
Gratefulness rolls through me at the way Delilah’s been able to take so much off my brother’s plate. A feeling I don’t much like.
“It’s a great idea, honey.” Vaughn tugs at his mustache. “You think you can swing it?”
Delilah smiles. “I’ll damn well try.”
Vaughn gives her an appreciative nod. “We sure appreciate all you’re doing. Taking a hell of a lot off our hands.”
“Of course. It’s the least I can do.”
A wave of irritation sweeps over me. Irritated that she’s too nice. Irritated that my family sits here fawning over her. Irritated that I care, that I’m curious. But suddenly I am. What the fuck is she doing here?
I shift on the bench and cross my arms. “Your family know you’re here?”
Stubbornly, she sits there and glares. “No.”
“No, they don’t know you’re here, or no, no family?”
River groans. “Christ, Cole.”
She looks at me distrustfully. Her hand goes to the locket on her throat. “You ask a lot of questions for someone whose main choice of dialogue is grunts.”
Wells sends me a second glare. “Damn, man. Ease up.”
My lips tick up. “Just making conversation.”
