Country Liquor (Sugar County Boys Book 4) Page 9

  And now? Well, I’m about to do whatever it takes to get him safe and out of trouble. I’ve already made one deal with a devil.

  …What about making a deal with a bigger one?

  Chapter 14

  Winona

  Around me, the bar goes dead quite. All the chuckles from his henchmen go silent. Hell, even the country music in the background turns off as the big, bearded older man leans across the table and narrows his eyes at me.

  “You what now?”

  Law Banner’s voice rumbles through the dimness of his run-down dive bar. His fierce eyes burn into me, and a rough, hardened, tattooed hand comes up to stroke his beard.

  “Say that one more time, little girl,” he growls.

  I swallow, squaring my jaw at him.

  “I need your help keeping Silas out of jail.”

  He chuckles, shaking his head. “Sounds to me like Silas’s problem, not mine.”

  He stands, glowering over me.

  Fuck he’s big. And really scary. And Taylor’s not wrong, he’s not without this sort of brawny, rough handsomeness to him. But maybe that’s her thing. For me, he’s just a little menacing.

  But fuck that. I’m not letting him scare me away. Not from this and not from what I came here for.

  I purse my lips as I stand too, narrowing my eyes at him. “You’re going to help me.”

  He smiles slowly, raising a brow.

  “Oh am I?”

  “I looked into you, you know.”

  “Good for you,” he grumbles.

  “I figured out what you’re up to.”

  Law chuckles. “Sweetheart,” he growls. “It doesn’t take much poking around Sugar County to know what it is I do. Or what I am.” He glares at me. “So good for you, you figured out my big secret. But,” he snarls, his eyes burning fiercely into mine. “But you shoulda done more of your homework before you walked in here.”

  I’m thinking fast, the wheels in my head working overtime before I run out of time. And something tells me, that’s happening soon. I force myself to think — to concentrate, to analyze what I know. He and Silas have been talking. But why? Okay, they’re both from here, but Silas himself said they had some bad history.

  But then, Silas visited Law, at this very bar not twenty-four hours ago. And he came home from here. As in, not dead. Not beat up. Not scared. Hell, he seemed happy after his meeting with Law, and I don’t think that was all necessarily because of our shower fun.

  The wheels click in my head, and slowly, the fog of uncertainty fades.

  They made a deal.

  Or, they have one. Or they’ve been planning something together. It explains the good meeting even with the bad history.

  I narrow my eyes at Lawson. “You and him have a deal.”

  He glares back at me across the bar table. “That a question?”

  “No, it’s a fact. You and Silas have something planned.”

  Law rakes his fingers over his beard again, his muscles rippling under his black t-shirt.

  “He tell you that?”

  I shake my head. “No.”

  “So how do you figure?”

  The wheels keep turning in my head, and I have no idea if I’m right or shooting in the dark, but it’s all I have. And I’ll use anything I can even grasp at to help the man I love. So, I just keep going.

  “You made a deal, and what does Silas have that you…”

  My eyes wander the bar, and suddenly it hits me.

  “Moonshine.”

  Law’s jaw tightens. “Watch your next words very carefully, little—”

  “You’re not buying his still…” I frown, putting the pieces together as Law stares me down. “You need him, because he’s damn good at it. So if you’re not buying it, you’re buying…”

  And then, it clicks. I look up into Law’s face.

  “You’re gonna be partners.”

  Law says nothing, his brow deep and scowling at me.

  “You think a lot, you know.”

  “I know.”

  “And you talk a hell of a lot more than you should,” he growls.

  “I’ve been told.”

  Law eyes me, his brow still furrowed. But slowly, he starts to smile.

  “My my,” he growls, half smiling. “Where the fuck did he find you?”

  “So am I right?”

  “You’re half right,” he grumbles. “Silas and I, we…”

  “You’ve got history.”

  “The little shit pulled a gun on me.”

  “And your grandfather pulled one on his, and someone’s barn burned ninety years ago, and does any of this really matter?”

  Law looks me over sternly as he folds his big arms over his thick, muscled chest.

  “Where are you going with this?”

  “You want to be his business partner.”

  “I don’t need Silas to—”

  “Do you want to be his business partner or not?”

  His mouth clamps shut.

  “Well,” I growl. “If you do, you need a business to be a partner in.”

  “And?”

  “And the cops are getting a warrant together right now to break the lock of that distillery shed, today.”

  Law’s eyes dart to a few of his men, his brow darkening.

  “And where exactly is Silas now?”

  “Jail, I think.”

  He grumbles, swearing under his breath.

  “He deserves to—”

  “Have you ever heard the expression cutting off your nose to spite your face?”

  “Have you ever heard the expression being shot out in the woods and left to disappear in a fucking coal mine for being a nosy little brat who talks too much?” he snaps.

  I swallow thickly, his words rumbling through me as he turns away.

  “We don’t have a deal,” he growls. “Not yet. That little shit’s been trying to strong arm me.” He barks out a short, quiet laugh as he turns back to me.

  “Which is unwise.”

  “What’s stalling the deal?”

  “Did you miss that part about you being a nosy brat?” he grumbles.

  “Yeah, I missed it at the part where I used to be a lead contract negotiator for a major advertising firm,” I spit back.

  Law arches a brow, drumming the fingers of one hand on the table.

  I steeple my hands, squaring my jaw as I lean onto the table, staring him right in the eye.

  “Let’s make a deal, Mr. Banner.”

  * * *

  Thirty minutes later, I sit back, my pulse roaring as Lawson looks away, scratching his beard. This is it. I’ve bent over backwards to make sure the deal he and Silas have been working on works for both of them. I’m actually blown away how freaking industrious Silas is. I mean, they’re not just going to be partners in moonshining. The plan is… Well, it’s huge.

  Law is silent, and I know I’m done talking. If I push it from here, it could make him walk away, and then we’re in big trouble. So I wait.

  “Goddamnit.”

  Finally, Law breaks his silence, muttering and turning back to me. He sighs, rubbing his temples.

  “Jonah.”

  “Yeah, boss?”

  One of his men steps forward.

  “Grab ten guys and grab a truck or two.” He’s talking to his guy, but his eyes are locked on mine.

  Jonah frowns. “Where are—”

  “We’re going on liquor run.”

  He stands, a small smile teasing the corners of his mouth as his fierce eyes blaze into mine.

  “Sweetheart,” he growls, putting his hand out as I stand.

  “You’ve got yourself a deal.”

  Chapter 15

  Silas

  “What?! No!”

  Chesterworth sputters, turning a shade of purple-ish red that makes him look like a squat little shriveled dick. The thought makes me grin. Actually, it makes me start to chuckle until Colton — my cousin — stamps on my foot and mutters for me to shut the fuck up.<
br />
  We’re in Judge Pritchard’s office chambers, down at the Sugar County courthouse. And I’m standing with Colton and Shepherd, my two cousins, and my fancy lawyer. ‘Cause, I can afford fancy lawyers now.

  Shit, I think I’m about to be able to afford pretty much anything in a second, actually.

  I keep quiet, but I keep watching as Chesterfield turns a few different shades of penis-red, muttering under his breath as Judge Pritchard repeats himself.

  “I said there is no case here, Mr. Chesterworth.”

  “Like hell there isn’t! This is cut and dry, your honor! He committed frau—”

  “He did not.”

  “He has an illegal liquor still on his property putting out commercial levels of contraband moonshine!”

  Judge Pritchard rolls his eyes, glancing at me for a second and half winking.

  Oh, Judge Pritchard and I go way back. Back in the day, when I was vandalizing mailboxes and stealing candy bars and back when he was just a county probate judge, he saw me a good number of times. Later in life, he went on to be a state level judge.

  …He also went on to be a very big fan of my vanilla and peach moonshine.

  “Do you have proof of this alleged still, counselor? The officers this afternoon found nothing.”

  Chesterworth sputters, the rage washing over his face.

  “They found tire marks! And drag marks! And a broken lock on the barn!”

  “So they found an empty barn.”

  Chesterworth hisses. Steam practically spurts out of his ears. I almost chuckle again, but this time it’s Shepherd who turns and glares at me.

  “Quiet,” he mutters under his breath.

  “What happened to my outlaw cousin?” I hiss back. Shit, up until a few months ago, Shepherd was a goddamn Billy the Kid around these parts. That is, until he found his lady and decided to be a damn normal human being. Got married, got the house and the farm, the kid on the way. All of it.

  …Years ago, or hell, weeks ago, I’d have made fun of him for that. Now? Well, now it sounds pretty fucking great.

  “Make the girl take the stand!” Chesterworth growls.

  “Can’t do that.”

  This time, when I speak out of turn, everyone turns to give me that ‘shut the fuck up’ look.

  “And why not, Mr. King?” Chesterworth spits.

  I grin widely. “Cause she’s my wife, that’s why not.”

  Shit it feels good to say that. Especially since that shithead lawyer goes all red again as he looks away.

  Ah yes, the good ole’ Federal Rules of Evidence. As in, the laws that say a spouse “cannot be compelled to testify against his or her wife or husband in a court of law.”

  I grin again. No, I didn’t plan this. Not this part, at least. I saw her and took her. But right now, us getting drunk and hitched means she can’t be forced to testify against me, even if it’s dumb bullshit like my “alleged liquor still.”

  Judge Pritchard clears his throat. “Counselor, you have no witnesses for any of Mr. King’s alleged crimes. Now, Mr. Chest—”

  “He’s pretending to be married to steal—”

  “To receive an inheritance which is clearly laid out. And again,” Judge Pritchard growls, his temper growing hotter. “He is legally married to Ms. Trace.”

  “This is ridiculous!”

  “This is Sugar County,” Colton chuckles.

  Chesterworth whirls on us. “You fucking hillbillies!”

  “You will mind your damn tongue in my chambers, counselor!” the judge bellows, rising to his feet. “Now get out of my office.”

  Mr. Chesterworth takes a shaky breath, trembling with rage as he turns to me. “You piece of shit. You and that trash you married—”

  I make a sharp step towards him as I draw my hand back, and he whimpers, scurrying for the door and running out.

  I grin, turning to see my cousins and my lawyer rolling their eyes at me. Judge Pritchard gives me a hard look as he dismisses my lawyer. Colton, Shepherd, and I stay.

  “You know you dodged one here, right?” the judge says sternly.

  “I’m not sure what you’re talking about, Your Honor.”

  He shakes his head. “Silas.” He smiles thinly. “This was probably your one real get out of jail free card. Going forward—”

  “Going forward, Your Honor,” I smile. “I’m going straight.”

  He frowns. “Is it bad that I want to say I’m sad to hear that?”

  I grin

  “Here.”

  I slide the business card — hot off the press and recently delivered to me by Colton, along with pants, thankfully. Spending the morning in jail in my damn boxers was…interesting.

  I slide the card across the desk to Judge Pritchard, who picks it up and narrows his eyes as he reads it.

  …And he starts to laugh.

  “You’re a clever son of a bitch, Silas. You know that?”

  I smile.

  “And I’ll be wanting a taste of your first shipment.”

  “You bet, Judge.”

  * * *

  I walk out the front doors of that courthouse, and I don’t even get one step before she comes barreling into me. I groan into her, my arms wrapping tight around her as I pull her to me, breathing in her scent and feeling the warmth of her body melt into mine.

  My love.

  My everything.

  My wife.

  Fuck she feels good. I’ve been away from her for what, eight hours? But it feels too long. I bury my face in her neck, drinking her in.

  “So I take it this means it worked?”

  “Well, I’m not in jail.”

  She giggles. “So that’s a yes?”

  “That’s a yes, wife of mine,” I chuckle, kissing her softly.

  “Husband of mine.”

  I kiss her fiercely, losing myself in her lips and never wanting to be found.

  “Okay, show me.”

  “Right here?” I sigh, reaching for my zipper. “A little public, but if you—”

  “Not that,” she giggles under her breath, her face going red. “God, you are insane.”

  “It’s been mentioned to me.”

  Winona grins. “Show me the card. Let me see this new venture from my husband, the business entrepreneur.”

  I raise a brow.

  “Law told me everything. Well, he didn’t want to, but I made him.”

  “Of course you did.” I grin, passing her the same business card I gave to Judge Pritchard.

  …And Winona starts to laugh.

  “You smug, sneaky, hillbilly.” She looks up, her face all smiles as she shakes her head at me. “Liquor King Distilleries?”

  “Straight and narrow, darlin’.”

  She grins, pulling close and biting her lip. “See, I don’t remember it being narrow at all.”

  I growl as I kiss her slowly.

  The plan was always in the works, but the inheritance money coming in was going to make it happen in a big way. You know how I said there’s not a lot of money in moonshine? Well, there's not a lot of money in anything you’re making in a barn in the hills. Well, unless its meth or some shit like that. But, if you make that moonshine in, say, a professional distillery? Like, say, the one I’m having built on the land I’m buying from Lawson Banner?

  And if, say, you’ve got a trucking company willing to take the distribution contract on speculation — like, say, the one Law owns with truck-drivers-turned business-owners Walker and Tucker, along with their girl Sierra?

  And if you’ve got a minority business partner — like, say, Lawson Banner, who maybe helped you push through your licensing for said distillery with his shady contacts up in the state government?

  Well, then it’s smooth fucking sailing. And inside of a year, Liquor King Distilleries is going to be eastern Kentucky’s fastest growing, locally-owned distillery.

  “You think you’re pretty clever, don’t you?”

  “I know I am,” I purr into her lips, kissing her.r />
  “Did you plan all of this?”

  “Darlin,” I growl, my lips bruising hers. “I never planned for you. But damn if you weren’t the missing piece.” I kiss her softly. “You know I’d give all of this up for you, don’t you?”

  “I do, actually,” she breathes. “But, don’t do that.”

  I laugh. “You want to come along for the ride?”

  “Yes please.”

  “You know, now that we’re both upfront about being married, we should take a honeymoon.”

  “Yeah?” She grins, biting her lip. “I know a little cabin somewhere where we can get away from it all.”

  “Baby girl,” I growl. “I’ll bring you to the moon. But let’s start with anywhere you want to go.”

  “Just you and me?”

  “You and me,” I murmur into her lips. “Damn do I love you.”

  “I love you too,” she breathes quietly.

  Her lips sear to mine, the Kentucky sun shines down, and damn is life good.

  Epilogue

  I moan, writhing on the lush carpet, my hips bucking up against his mouth as the pleasure rolls through me. Silas’s tongue drags over my clit, sending shivers through my whole body. His hands slide under me, gripping my ass tightly, pulling me into his mouth as my back arches and the moans drip from my lips.

  My hands slide up over my skin, cupping my breasts, fingers teasing my nipples to aching points as he pushes his tongue deep between my legs. Hair falls over my face, but I’m powerless to move it. All I know is the sweet heaven between my thighs of his tongue driving me absolutely wild. I throw my head back, the hair dropping from my face as I look — upside down — out the big floor-to-ceiling windows at the Eiffel Tower.

  Paris. That’s where we are, for our belated honeymoon.

  Silas’s fingers dig into my skin, his powerful hands lifting my hips high in the air as his tongue teases over me. He pushes it lower, and when it swirls over my ass, I whimper, pinching my nipples harder.

  “Fuck, Silas…”

  “Dirty girl,” he growls, dragging his tongue over my tight little asshole and making me squeal in pleasure. He brings one hand up above, his thumb rolling my clit as he teases my ass.