Page 64

Ace

“Can we get out of here?” I ask, moving my hands lower, down her back. As much as it’s been a great day, I want to go home and get my wife naked before the fireworks start sounding off.

She leans in and lightly kisses my lips. “What’s in it for me?”

“Sugar, if you need me to remind you exactly what being this close to you does to me, then I’ll happily bend you over the closest table and show you.”

Her eyes widen as she nods excitedly. “You feel like putting on a show this time?”

That sounds like far too much fun, and my thoughts move back to Strutt’s Peak and the scene we very much enjoyed watching.

I hum against her and say, “You’re going to be the death of me.

” Grabbing her hands, I lead us away from the dance floor.

“But I’d happily show off all the ways I can think of rewarding my bratty wife.

” I slow so I can say to her quietly, “I think I’d like to tease people and give them a glimpse of what they’ll never get to have. ”

A few folks wave as we head away from the dance floor.

There are plenty of eyes witnessing the oldest Foxx brother openly adoring his unexpected wife.

It feels good to do. I look down at the way she’s shuffling her feet and the fact that we’re moving at a snail’s pace.

“Need me to carry you?” I ask as we hit the edge of the grass.

I smile as she slips off her boots, and then holds them in one hand.

“Yes, please,” she says. Between walking the green and making the rounds, hunting through all of the crafts tents, and just dancing now, I’m betting she’s reached her limits.

I raise her hand to my lips, kissing along her knuckles, and then turn her wrist over to kiss along the healing tattoo.

I love that these words are here—something for everyone to see, but it’s just for me and her.

“Alright, let’s go,” I say, bending forward, nudging my shoulder into her waist, and then hoisting her up and over my shoulder.

She yelps before cackling a laugh, and then gives in to it. “How about a game of strip chess? We haven’t done that one yet,” she suggests.

I give a tight-lipped smile to the older couple that passes us and clearly overheard her suggestion.

Grabbing a handful of her ass in these cute jean shorts, I say, “Strip chess sounds like you hustling me. You should just ask me to take all my clothes off for you, because we both know how that game will go.”

“Okay, take all your clothes off for me, then,” she says through a giggle.

Chuckling, I glance at the horse trailer at the end of the road. Her horse needs to get out and stretch. She’s been in there for long enough. “One second,” I say, moving us toward her Mustang instead. “Leave your keys in your car for Griz to take. I’m guessing he won’t be too far behind us.”

The road is lined with parked cars. And it’s mostly quiet, except for a couple making out in the back of a truck, and the muffled sound of a transistor radio playing some bluegrass from the ice cream truck at the far end of the block.

But almost everyone is down by the stage and dance floor, getting rowdy over the cover band that I can hear is just starting a new set.

I walk around the exterior of her car. It’s loud as hell and an eyesore, but she loves it.

And it drives like the devil. Placing her down on the trunk, I kiss her smiling, waiting lips.

I can get lost while kissing this woman.

It’s exactly how I like—lips pressing, tongues wet and warm, lulling the other into a promise of edging foreplay and blackout orgasms.

She hums against my lips and, fuck , do I want her right this second. I wrap my arms around her and slide her closer, letting her feel the way she’s already made me hard.

But the sound of her horse kicking the side of the trailer has us both stopping. She’s probably more than ready to be out of there. “She sounds ticked off.”

“I think she’s ready to go home.” She runs her fingers along the back of my neck. I kiss her again, and she hums, “Me too.”

“Keys,” I mumble against her lips.

She smiles and drags her tongue along my bottom lip, laughing at my frustrated exhale. Patience when it comes to her has never been my strong suit.

I squeeze my hands around her waist. “Hadley, give me the fucking keys, or else I really will fuck you right here.”

“And that’s a bad idea, why?” she asks coyly.

I consider it for a moment. The street is quiet, but the thought ends abruptly when she says, “Oh shit.” And with an exaggerated exhale, she adds, “They’re in my bag, which is still at the high-top table, down by the dance floor. This is what you do to my brain!”

I know that feeling all too well. I rest my forehead on hers for a moment. “Alright, let's go,” I say, scooping my arm under her to trek back down to where we just were.

But she taps my chest. “I’m fine right here. I’ll hang with Lady. You’ll be faster not having to carry me down and back, anyway.”

I hesitate for a second. I’m not too keen on leaving her by herself up here.

After the bullshit message from her father, I’ve been more watchful.

I haven’t left her side for more than a few hours at a time since we’ve been back.

My schedule is flexible at the distillery, and on her nights at Midnight Proof, I’ve met someone there for a drink or two, and then stayed until closing to give her a ride home.

It’s overprotective, but after witnessing her having a panic attack, I knew she’d reached her limits.

When her father is finally out of the picture for good, I’ll be able to breathe easier.

Until then, it’s like torture leaving her in a vulnerable spot like this.

“Go.” She smiles. “I’m fine.”

I exhale the breath I’d been holding. “Okay, give me a minute. Don’t go anywhere.

” With another kiss to her lips, I turn toward the town green and the music.

I hate that, in the back of my mind, all I can think about is something going wrong.

I never believed in the fucking rumored curse about falling for a Foxx, but now there’s a small part of me that fears it.

It’s the distant kind of fear, but it’s still nagging.

“That’s a nice view,” Hadley shouts. “Hate seeing you go, Foxx. But goddesses, do I loooovvvvve watching you leave.”

“Jesus Christ,” I say to myself with a smile I can’t tame. I rub my palm over my mouth, and I can’t seem to wipe the smile off as I hustle faster.

From here, Fiasco looks like it should—thriving with people, celebrating, and with that lick of nostalgia that the night-time summer humidity always ushers in.

I glance around, looking for where Griz might have wandered off to, but I can’t spot him.

I look on as Grant moves his foot in time with the harmonica cupped in his hands.

And I could watch Lincoln swing Faye around the dance floor and Laney cheer my baby brother on from the side of the stage forever.

I’m still grinning without even realizing it.

When I turn back to where I left Hadley, her attention is on her phone. And just then, my phone vibrates in my pocket. I’m expecting it to be her sending me something dirty, but instead, it’s Jimmy. Shit .

JIMMY DUGAN

Heads up regarding the visitors’ log from today.

That came in over an hour ago now.

ACE

Who?

But he doesn’t respond right away, so I shove the phone in my pocket and quickly grab Hadley’s bag from the high-top. I hustle back toward the road, not seeing Hadley sitting there any longer. That has my nerves kicking in.

“Hadley,” I call out slowly. I’m not seeing her.

A loud, bursting noise rings out, like a tire being blown, followed by an earth-shaking boom that has me moving before I even register what it is.

I don’t think or look, I just start hauling ass back to her.

“Hadley!” I yell, frantically looking down the street toward the horse trailer, and then back toward the car.

I’m not moving fast enough. I shouldn’t have left her side.

Fuck! The corner block erupts in another explosion where I had just been, and my stomach sinks to my feet.

“Hadley,” I exhale, just as car alarms sound off, and the pressure from the blast hits me as if I’ve been shoved hard and quick.

The wind is knocked from my chest as I try to stand up.

Blinking away the haze, the only thing I see is her 1969 purple Mustang engulfed in flames.

No, no, no. This isn’t fucking happening.

As soon as I find my footing, I pump my arms, running as fast as my feet will go.

But it’s not fast enough. “HADLEY!” I scream at the top of my lungs, my whole body shaking.

Please don’t do this. No matter how much I tried to forget the details, the sound of a car exploding was the same.

Destruction and chaos. And the common denominator was always losing someone. I can’t lose her.

The only thing I can see from here are flames inside the car and all along the top and trunk, right where I left her.

“HADLEY!” I scream again, my voice catching from the force, but the angry fire and creaking of metal are my only answer.

An uncontrolled blaze envelops the hood as black smoke rises and the blurred heat roars. I don’t see her. She was right there .

Another small burst ruptures inside the car, and the glass from the back windshield blows out, forcing me to turn to avoid shards of glass flying. Ducking lower, I fumble in my pocket for my phone and the only thing I see is Jimmy’s message returned.

JIMMY DUGAN

The Governor and Chief Hawkins.

My phone buzzes again.

JIMMY DUGAN

He’s gone. Took my gun. Knocked me out. Just called it in.

From behind me, I hear someone say, “This isn’t a part of our deal.”

But before the words and who they belong to register, a blunt object hits the back of my head, knocking me forward. And then again. My knees collide with the concrete. Shooting pain erupts up my legs, and then along the side of my face.

“I don’t have a choice,” a deep voice says as I try to stand. But another blow to the back of my head keeps me down this time.