Page 49

Ace

There are people from all over peppered around the distillery throughout the day.

The tastings started early, but when the Kentucky Derby kicked off, it was broadcast over the massive screens on either side of the stage that’s currently playing some decent bluegrass.

It was over quickly, but the Derby is always about the show of it—the races and the experience.

Fiasco has had enough of racing this year, so when Laney suggested Ditch the Derby, it felt like the perfect way to cater to locals and still celebrate an event that ushers in massive amounts of bourbon drinkers.

Grant and Lincoln join me on the balcony just off the upper floor offices.

With them is James Dugan Sr. in his hardware store polo, and Del, who quietly surveys the crowd in his typical cop-like fashion.

My brothers welcomed the plans for investing in Dugan’s Hardware.

It wasn’t even a question for them—trying to find ways for us to invest in our town.

They’re good men. Plus, the three of us have been absorbing the fundamentals that Griz always spouted, like, “You’ll find success more palatable when you watch others find it.

” And the one that seemed to hit hardest lately, “Take care of where you’re from and it’ll take care of you.

” Today is a great day to bring our partners up here to show our appreciation.

Their last name might be different, but they’re a part of the Foxx family.

“Helluva view from up here, Ace,” James says.

I nod, taking it all in. It’s been a while since the distillery’s been this crowded and the warmth of pride laces its way through me as I admire all of the hard work it took in getting this event moving.

Winter is never as busy as the summer, but it hasn’t been this full of life since our 100-year celebration.

And that was just after Laney had moved here, after the rickhouse had burned down, and along with it, some of our oldest bourbon.

I look toward the main road, hoping to hear the roar of that damn Mustang coming up the drag.

I was hoping Hadley could duck out early and enjoy some of this.

“I didn’t think you were going to opt to rebuild it,” Grant says, looking at the newly constructed rickhouse frame.

It’s just past the distillery, in between the path to the stables.

I haven’t told him yet that it’s not going to be a rickhouse—I have ideas and, hopefully, with a little bit of research and time, those ideas will turn into plans.

They just aren’t ready to share yet. I need to pitch an idea to my wife first, and then take it from there.

I cover my mouth, trying to hide the smile those words cause— my wife.

I can still taste her on my lips. Hell, every time I think about her sweet, sugary smell, I get hard and want to say fuck it all.

I knew the moment I woke up with her beneath me that I’d want all of it all over again—and on repeat.

The sounds she makes. The way she does exactly as I request. How she doesn’t hold back.

How it feels to lie with her and just be exactly who we are—no masks or lies.

It’s a quiet proof that I’m never going to let her go.

If she allows it, this will be it for us.

I clear my throat and tell him, “I have a few ideas of how we can use that space. Maybe something a little different instead of just barrels and bourbon.” It’s one of the reasons I’m heading to Colorado.

I want some time with Hadley, to work out what we’re doing and to share with her what I’ve been thinking through for the past year.

That new, empty building we were looking at, I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t thought of her when I first had the plans drawn up.

“Heard some big name in thoroughbreds, a bloodstock agent over in Lexington, was found face down at Fiasco Falls. It’s all the guys down at the station were talking about yesterday,” Jimmy Dugan says to his dad as they make their way through the first pour of their tasting flight.

I try not to be obvious in listening, but I know exactly who they’re talking about.

“The bald guy from Midnight Proof? The one who got tossed out after getting in Hadley’s face the other night?”

Del glances at me, looking to see if he should be playing interference.

But instead of giving him anything, I add to the conversation.

“The guy was a real hothead. I remember him from auctions over the years—fought like hell with plenty of people.” I look at Lincoln and ask, “He was at the Blackstone auction last year, if I’m not mistaken. ”

My brother remembers that night pretty damn well.

It was the first time he realized his now wife was more than just a burlesque dancer.

A private investigator who worked closely with Fiasco PD and the FBI field office.

Every single person I recognized at that auction had a tie to Wheeler Finch in some way or another.

I can feel Del watching me. He knows I had something to do with this, but I’m not about to show my cards.

The roar of her Mustang nearly drowns out the new country blasting out over the speakers from the main stage. As Hadley tears up the long driveway and into the lot, rocks spit out and dirt flies. Fucking hell , she barely slows below 20 mph as she reaches the guys at valet.

Lincoln is smiling at me when I look up from my hyperfocus on her arrival.

“No offhanded comment about ‘Lucifer arriving’ or ‘asking who summoned her?’” He’s still looking at my profile as I watch her get out of her car, like he’s working through what might have changed in the past few weeks between my last conversation with him about our relationship and today.

With a curse, he hits me in the back. “Well, holy shit. You’re sleeping with her. ”

I give him a sideways glance, and then focus back on her.

Those gorgeously toned legs are all I see before I’m turning toward the double doors and heading back inside to make my way down through the distillery to meet her.

I hustle past a handful of people who want me to stop and chat, but I’m having a hard time hiding how happy I am to get to my wife.

“Atticus Foxx,” someone calls out in the crowd, but I wave and keep walking.

When I make it to the front lawn and through a small crowd of sloppy drunks and the country band that just finished up their set, I finally spot her again.

The dress she’s wearing isn’t something that would be considered attire for the Kentucky Derby.

And while there are plenty of dress codes, depending on where you’re watching the event, this one in particular wouldn’t fit anywhere.

The short black dress looks like it’s made of the same leather as the black cowgirl boots that hit just below her knee.

Her hair falls down her back in smooth waves, and a gathering of feathers with black netting is fastened off-center.

I bite back a smile—damn, she’s beautiful.

When she finally sees me, her pouty, glossy lips tip into a smile that hits me right in the chest.

“You’re here,” I say as I stride closer and erase the distance.

With a coy smile, she shrugs her shoulder.

“I own the place, so I snuck out early. Figured I should be here to support my husband.” She glances to her right, where a few sets of eyes are paying attention to us.

The rumors have already thoroughly circulated and marinated about our marriage.

People are looking for more than confirmation.

They want to see for themselves if it’s true—a Foxx and a Finch happily in love.

“We’ve been showing off for long enough.

Think it’s time to stop pretending?” she asks, leaning back to look up into my eyes.

Then, without missing a beat, I lift her against me, bringing her lips to mine.

With a moan, her fingers glide from my cheek and into my hair, holding me close while holding nothing back as we kiss like we’ve got something to prove.

I hum against her lips and kiss her again before I tell her, “You look incredible.”

“Somebody call up the western winds! I need to cool off after witnessing that!” Romey says to her sister—and just about everyone else standing around willing to listen.

We pull back just enough to let her feet find the ground, but she catches my lips once more and kisses me again.

I smile against her mouth when we hear, “Why are there not more of you Foxx boys?” Romey huffs.

“Prue, we need something stronger.” With a laugh, they move inside to the tasting bar.

“Hadley, send me the website with all those vibrating flowers, please. Might need a bouquet after spendin’ time ’round the two of you. ”

Hadley laughs heartily and salutes them. “You bet, Romey.”

“You’re still giving people vibrating presents?” I ask her, already knowing the answer.

“It’s the gift that keeps gifting,” she says, raking her eyes down the front of me. “Maybe I should buy one just for you, husband."

I hold up two fingers. Her brow furrows again, like it did when I ticked off the first time I’d almost reached my limit with her bratty mouth. But I don’t explain what I’m counting; instead, I wrap my arm around her and lean in close enough so my lips skate over her bare shoulder.

“Say that again, sugar.”

I tilt back to look at her questioning blue eyes, but before I can ask her to call me her husband again, I see someone stalking toward us out of the corner of my eye.

Lincoln must’ve seen him coming, because he’s already standing next to us at the same time I slide my arm from around Hadley. Lacing my fingers with hers, I pull her closer to my side.

Chief Hawkins looks at her, and then at our laced hands, jaw clenching.

“Your party is blocking all the way down the main road, Foxx. Not to mention, there are capacity limits inside that tasting room that I’m sure are well over.

” His eyes lock back onto Hadley, trailing down her body and lingering where they shouldn’t be, and I feel her tense.

Lincoln tries to cut through the thick awkwardness as he holds out his hand and says, “Thanks for the heads up, Chief?—”

“Get your eyes off my fucking wife,” I grit out.

He tuts, and I know just by the way he so casually crosses his arms that what he’s going to say next is going to end with a hook to his face.

“Hawk, don’t,” Del says, coming up to try to diffuse the situation that has the potential to escalate quickly.

But he ignores him. Apparently, a public confrontation is on his bingo card tonight. Fucking sloppy. “I’ve had more than just my eyes on your wife. Isn’t that right, Hadley?” Hawk says with a shit-eating grin.

“Ace...” Lincoln says quietly, trying to keep me from losing my shit. Hadley squeezes my hand, which is all she needs to do for me to keep myself in check. But I can still run my mouth.

Something hasn’t sat right with me for a while.

After seeing a list of names from a night about ten years ago, there’s one person who didn’t seem to add up.

The exception is that he’s the governor's brother, but there’s more to it.

I feel it in my gut, and I’m about to call it out.

“Remind me again how you got your job, Hawk? Always made me wonder whose elbows you were rubbing or dick you were sucking.”

He raises his chin and takes a step closer.

Ballsy . “You’re one to talk, Ace.” And then he sniffs out a laugh.

“Or do I have it wrong? Maybe she was sleeping with me because she wasn’t getting what she needed from you.

” Again, he looks at Hadley, and my chest nearly rumbles.

“Are you that hard up for a man to take care of you? Daddy couldn’t anymore, so you ran to the next closest thing? ”

This motherfucker. It’s enough to make me snap.

Grant comes up to my left just as he says it, flanking me.

Both of my brothers are starting to box me out, even though public violence is never the way I handle assholes like this.

But everyone’s dismissing the biggest wild card here. The subject of the discussion.

It happens too quickly for anyone to stop her, including me.

Hadley steps in front of Hawk and slaps him clean across the face with the hand that was just holding mine.

Quietly, maybe just for him, but the small group gathered around us hears her say, “Let me make this clear for you.” With his hand pressed against his face, it leaves her an opening to cock her leg back and give him a knee right to the dick.

When he groans in pain, I have to hold back a chuckle.

“Every time I came, it was because I was thinking about that man behind me right there. The one who, I promise you, is not going to forget this.”

Goddamn , I’m in love with this woman.

Hawk’s hands are braced on his knees, gritting something out as Del tries grabbing his arm to help him. The music still echoing around the commotion we caused drowns out any of their muttered conversation. But from body language alone, it’s clear Hawk’s ego got checked.

Faye steps closer, bending down and lifting a phone from the grass.

“Here, Chief, you dropped this,” she says, handing him his cell phone and smirking at me.

He swipes it out of her hand without so much as a “thank you,” then stalks off with some of the guys from his department witnessing all of it.

Instead of caring about the crowd that’s gathered, or the repercussions of kicking a public official in the dick, Hadley turns on her boot heel and rushes back to me.

I don’t hesitate to lift her and follow the same momentum, meeting her lips with a kiss that very well has no business being on display.

My tongue crashes with hers, and her arms wrap around my shoulders, fingers diving into the hair that meets the nape of my neck.

When she pulls back, her lips hovering against mine, she says, “I need you to get us out of here right now, husband.”

I smile. “Who knew my wife would be so eager for me?”

She lets out a laugh. “Literally everyone.”