For Love & Bourbon (22 page)

A
va spent the next few days consumed with work at the distillery. She put in overtime in addition to her scheduled tours, doing everything she could to put both her father and the FBI out of her mind. Her grandfather joined her, just as eager to forget the troubles their family was facing.

He refused to speak about any of it, preferring to maintain the happy-go-lucky persona everyone expected from him. Though this habit of his usually bothered her, she appreciated it now when she wanted nothing more than to deny any of it existed.

To her surprise, the FBI was laying low. The team from Louisville had gone home, leaving Cooper and Marco alone to continue the investigation. But even they seemed to have slowed their progress. The owner of the Fox Hills Inn, an old friend of hers, confided that the agents rarely left the hotel anymore. They seemed to be hanging around waiting for something, but nobody knew what.

Orders, maybe. A slip up from her father. Information from an outside source. All of it was possible. And since they hadn’t seen fit to speak to her since the day they’d come by the house, she was left in the dark.

She just wanted her old life back—her family at peace with itself, her company’s reputation intact, her future far less uncertain. What she had lost since the FBI had come to town amounted to more than she’d realized. And all she had gained were tricky emotions and a heaping mess of doubt.

Pausing beside one of the towering racks inside the barrel house, she leaned against the nearest barrel and shut her eyes. Releasing a long, steadying breath, she tried to center herself and not give in to the temptation to dwell on it all. She said a silent prayer for clarity and peace, helpless to do anything more. Surely the end to this madness had to be in sight. If not, then she didn’t know what she’d do.

Her eyes opened, her attempts to beat back the wave of anxiety failing. What she needed was a distraction away from home where she could clear her mind, regain her focus.

It had been nearly a year since she’d been to the city; seen the races, walked the streets. How refreshing it would be to mingle with people who didn’t know her face, who had no clue what storm clouds raged over her family. People she had no reason to pretend in front of.

She checked her watch, saw it was nearly one o’clock. If she got her grandfather to cover her late afternoon tours, she could make it to the three o’clock race at Churchill Downs. Just in time to order a mint julep and place a few bets.

Rushing to the house to change, she considered if she wanted company or not. Brandy was likely stuck working at the bar, and Adam was still not speaking with her. Her mother didn’t care for horses and her father was holed up in his office.

As she touched up her makeup and changed into a scarlet red blazer and dressy jeans, the one face she’d been trying to forget popped into her mind.

Well, hell. She slapped her forehead, even as a glitter of hope shot through her. It was worth a try, she decided. The worst he could say was no. Though she was never one to take no for an answer. Not when she wanted something badly enough.

Within fifteen minutes, she was pulling up to the Fox Hills Inn. She spotted the black sedan parked out back and wondered how he would react to seeing her. It was brash and impulsive, but then again, so was she.

She had planned to coax his room number from her old friend at the front desk, but luck was on her side. She spotted him seated inside the tiny sandwich shop the hotel offered, reading an old tattered copy of
Fahrenheit 451
.

“Hey,” she greeted as she plopped down into the chair across from him.

Cooper blinked in surprise, lowering his book. His smile was quick, instinctive, and warmed her heart. “Hey, you. What’s up?”

“Wanna get out of town with me?” she asked, nodding with her head for the door.

He dog-eared the page he was on and set the book aside. “Out of town?”

“Yeah. I need to get out of here for a while. I figured you could use a break, too.”

Amusement softened his face. “I really shouldn’t.”

“Why not? You don’t look busy.”

He shrugged. “I’m doing stuff. And besides, I thought we were working on keeping a safe distance from each other. Or did you already give up on that? I know I can be pretty irresistible.”

She arched a brow. “Get over yourself. You weren’t my first choice.”

“Ouch.” He chuckled, running a hand through his hair. “Still, though. It’s probably a bad idea.”

She got to her feet. “Suit yourself. But you’re missing out.”

“Where are you going, anyway?”

A slow grin spread over her face. “The races. Churchill Downs.”

That got his attention. In one swift movement, he rose from his chair, pocketed the book and downed the last of his coffee. “Count me in.”

“Why the sudden change of heart?”

He followed her out of the sandwich shop. “I can’t allow a lady to go unaccompanied to the horse track. That would be downright ungentlemanly of me. Also, I think horses are really cool. Just ask Marco.”

She snorted and hopped into her Chevy pickup truck. When he slid in beside her, she patted his hand companionably. “What a swell guy you are, Slick. You’re gonna make some girl very happy someday.”

“I’ll settle for making you happy today, Ava,” he replied, offering her a sincere smile that had her insides melting.

“Well. Lucky me, then.”

HE’D BEEN
prepared for the sights, the sounds, even the smells. But what he hadn’t anticipated was the rush he got watching those horses take flight across the dusty track. From his seat under the open patio, he had chills running over his arms that had nothing to do with the brisk fall air and everything to do with the thrill of the race.

Cooper’s mouth fell open as he took in the sheer power exploding out of each horse as they thundered in unison around the track. Clad in a range of colors—blue and red and green and gold—they were mere blurs as they tore past him in a deafening drumbeat of hooves. His heart sprinted nearly as fast as they did, his eyes unblinking so he wouldn’t miss a single moment.

When the horses vaulted over the finish line at last, he fell back against his seat and let out a rush of breath.

“Wow. That was awesome.” He laughed, turning to Ava with a huge grin. “Now I get why people come to these things.”

Ava held up the ticket stub for the bet she’d placed. “They also come for the money, Slick. I just won fifty bucks.”

“No shit?” His gaze drifted back to the track, where the horses were busy being walked around and the winners congratulated. “I was going to offer to buy you another drink, but I’d say this round’s on you.”

“Actually, I’m starving. Why don’t we get something to eat?”

He looked back at her, eyebrows raised. “This is starting to feel like a date, which we both agreed was a bad idea.”

She leaned in conspiratorially, the suggestion in her eyes nearly stopping his heart. “Nobody has to know. Why d’you think we came all the way out here? I wanna have some fun before I return you.”

He tore his eyes off of her and cleared his throat, his imagination running wild. “Right. Fun. Okay, let’s go.”

A playful smile brightened her face as she stood and pulled him to his feet. “There’s this amazing little street café my father used to take me to. We can sit outside and people watch. You’ll love it.”

Though she didn’t say anything more about it, he could tell that just the mention of her father put a damper on her mood. He intended to see she forget all her worries, at least for one night.

An hour later they sat at a quaint metal table lit with candles and sweet-smelling coral dahlias, right on the sidewalk of one of Louisville’s biggest downtown streets. People passed by, bundled into coats and scarves and sharing laughter as the sun gave way to twilight and coaxed life out of the streetlamps.

Ava rested her elbow on the table, her chin in her palm. Her eyes were warm as she regarded Cooper. “I think it’s time you shared some of those secrets of yours. You know all of mine.”

He sipped his glass of bourbon on ice, amused by her. “What do you want to know?”

“Where’d you grow up?”

“Queens.” He thought back to the old neighborhood with its towering brick buildings and tree-lined streets cluttered with cars and trash cans and people. “But we moved to Connecticut when I was sixteen.”

“What’s New York like?” The soft glow of candlelight teased the gold out of her hair as she twirled a strand of it around her finger.

“Nothing like here,” he mused. “I guess it’s what you’d expect—busy, exciting. Everyone’s in a rush to get somewhere and avoiding eye contact is a way of life. My mom always hated the city anyway. She was relieved to get of there.”

“And your dad?”

He averted his eyes, taking another drink. “He was a cop. He died before we moved.”

Ava’s face fell, picking up on the grief in his voice. She reached for his hand. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” He squeezed her hand in return, a half-smile chasing away the strain around his eyes. “It was a long time ago.”

Sensing he didn’t want to talk about it, she avoided asking more. As curious as she was, she’d been raised with more manners than to pry. “So how did the son of a cop from Queens get into the FBI?”

“I wanted to make a difference.”

She snorted. When she saw he was serious, she stifled her laughter. “Oh. Sorry. That’s very noble of you.”

“The world’s a dangerous place,” he continued, turning his hand over so he could run his thumb along her skin. His eyes followed the movement, entranced by the smooth slopes of her knuckles. “Nobody should have to live in fear for their lives. Much less in America.”

“That’s why I keep a shotgun by the door and know how to use it.”

“Sometimes that’s not enough.” He let that old familiar ache fill him as he thought of his father and the monsters who had taken his life. His eyes lifted to hers. “But it’s better than nothing.”

Her lips curved. “Yes, it is.”

The sight of her smile had the darkness receding from his mood. He basked in the light of it, comforted despite everything. When he was with her this way, just the two of them, all the complications of the case didn’t seem to matter. Her father’s undoubtable connection to the IRA and his own orders to bring the man down were simply background noise in a song he’d heard the instant he saw her for the first time in the distillery.

She was unlike anyone he’d ever known—all hardwired passion yet smooth as the whiskey her family created, while he was a city-hardened seeker of justice. They’d found something in each other that neither was even looking for, something impossible to resist.

And when she looked at him that way, hazel eyes afire with homegrown compassion and that smile tinged with a hint of spice, she was more beautiful than any other creature in the world.

“God, you’re gorgeous.” The words were out of his mouth before he’d even realized he had said them aloud.

That dimple flashed in her cheek as her smile grew. One of her brows rose, slow and deliberate. “Why, thank you kindly.”

“Did I just say that?” He let out a laugh and brushed his free hand through his hair. “I swear, something about you makes me want to break all the rules. That’s never happened before.”

She drew closer, delighted at how flustered he was. It was adorable on him. “It ain’t against the law to call a woman beautiful, Slick. In fact, it’s a surefire way to grab her attention.”

“And here I thought I had that already.” He angled his head, taking a moment to consider her. “You’re one hell of a conflict of interest, Ava. But I can’t bring myself to say no to you. No to this.” He motioned with his hand. “Whatever it is.”

Her heart fluttered, warming her with its beat. “Then don’t. It’ll be our secret.”

“And when the case is over and I go back to D.C.? What happens then?”

“Then this little affair of ours will be done and we’ll go our separate ways,” she decided, offering him another smile. “I’d rather experience something spectacular for a short while than miss out on it entirely because I’m afraid of what’s to come. Wouldn’t you?”

“Yeah. I would.” He lifted her hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. It sent her pulse jumping in quick, wild bursts. “I’m going to enjoy knowing you. Short lived as it may be.”