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Her hands circled my wrists. "It might send you packing."

"I'm going to pretend you didn't just insult me." Then I kissed her with the taste of whiskey still on my tongue. It was already making me lightheaded, which made it very easy to get lost.

She was breathless by the time I pulled back. "Today we drink. Tomorrow we hike." I stroked her cheeks with my thumbs as I held her face in my hands. "This doesn't change anything between us."

She stared at me, not saying out loud that she didn't believe me.

"It doesn't. We decide how this story goes, remember?"

I got the tiniest hint of a smile. "I remember."

"Good. Now I'm going to make you breakfast so this whiskey doesn't ruin us."

She actually laughed and then sighed. "Okay fine. Feed me, cowboy."

And because I knew it would make her laugh, I made her breakfast in nothing but a cowboy hat.

Twenty-One

Marley

I would rather discuss bloody knives and oozing wounds than my love life

"We hereby callthis session of This Book Club Is My Alibi to order!" Sharon said solemnly from her booth near the door at the saloon. It was the same booth where Jackson and I had dinner every Friday night.

That weekly date had quickly become one of my favorite things. We dressed for each other, danced, and I got to know his friends. And every week Scottie served a different delicious dish that kept me from getting homesick. So far we'd had Scottie's hamburger masterpiece, a macaroni and cheese that I ordered an extra to-go so I could have a second batch of it the next day, a chicken sandwich with some sort of hot honey syrup on it, and fish tacos that tasted unlike anything I'd ever had before.

And I had eatena lotof tacos in my day.

I couldn't wait to see what Scottie tried on us today.

Still Standing Saloon looked a little different in the light of day. It was quieter, cleaner, and had the faintest scent of vanilla. The other half of the bar where we danced on the scuffed wood floor was dim with the lights off. It felt almost hollow without Big Al at the bar or Digger and Travis circling a pool table.

But the "bourbon bar" half we were in had a cozy speakeasy vibe even in the light of day. I could see why Scottie's bourbon tastings were so popular with tourists.

This was my first time at This Book Club Is My Alibi and I was both wary and excited. After last month's Read What You Love, I decided to give both clubs a try. And even though Read What You Love was newer, it had nearly as many people in attendance. Probably since it promised a lack of murder.

"We have some business to attend to before we begin discussing this month's book. Maeve?"

Maeve stood up. Instead of her usual red glasses she had on a smart pair of purple frames. She adjusted them as she glanced down at a piece of paper. "The new merchandise with the TBCIMA logo has earned $133.88. All of this has been donated to the preschool to buy books for the kiddos. Next, we need to raise $500 for the elementary school library. Ideas?"

The fact that the book clubs were so intent on using their platform to raise money for the schools made me love them even more.

Liam suggested setting up an online shop to sell Murdered By My TBR Pile merchandise to a larger audience of mystery readers. Harrison suggested setting up a booth at the Bigfoot festival.

"What if we start a blog where we recommend books?" Aviana offered. Her Australian Shepherd Barnaby snoozed at her feet.

"We could make a few bucks on affiliate links," Sharon mused. "Not sure it's worth the effort."

I watched as they debated options, wanting to make my own suggestion, but also not wanting to participate at all. It felt too close to my real life, which I was jumping back into tomorrow whether I liked it or not. I wanted to savor my last few hours as the new girl in Lost Creek. For four weeks I'd lived in a Jackson bubble that made me so happy I cried a few times. I didn't want it to pop.

I couldn't let it pop.

"What are you thinking?" Mack asked me quietly while the others talked over each other.

Jackson would hate it here. The thought, oddly, made me smile. The more time we spent together, the more I saw how relaxed he could be in smaller groups.

Or just with me.