Highball Rush (Bootleg Springs #6) - Claire Kingsley Page 0,26

nudged him with my elbow. “Uh-oh. Should I have checked to see if you locked me in from the outside?”

That earned me a smile. “Yeah, I barred the door so you couldn’t get out.”

“I had a feeling you were evil.”

A knock at the front door made me jump. Gasping, I grabbed Gibson’s arm. His solid muscle flexed in my grip and he looked down at my hand. I was about to snatch it away and apologize, but then he gently laid his over mine.

“Wait in the bedroom. I’ll get rid of them.” He squeezed my hand.

I nodded and he let go. I cast a quick glance around to see if there was anything obvious sitting out that someone might see from the doorway. The blanket I’d used for meditating was on the floor, but that wasn’t incriminating. I picked up my sandals, letting them dangle from my grasp, and tiptoed down the hall to Gibson’s bedroom.

A woman’s voice came from the front of the house, but I couldn’t quite make out what she said. Hi, Gibson, most likely. I stood by the bedroom door, leaving it open just a crack, and strained to listen.

“What are you doing here?” he asked.

“Um… well, I just…” She trailed off, her voice soft. “Here.”

“What’s this?”

“Brownies,” she said.

“Why did you bring me brownies?” Gibson sounded genuinely confused.

“Oh, you know, just being neighborly.”

There was a slight pause. “Did Scarlett put you up to this?”

“Scarlett? No, not at all. She might have mentioned something about you having company. And if you did—have company, that is—I thought she might enjoy some brownies. I baked four batches this morning, and they needed a home. So, there you are.”

I could practically feel Gibson’s irritation all the way back here. I bit my lip again to keep from giggling.

“Thanks, I guess?” he said.

“Sure, it’s my pleasure. If y’all are needing anything else, you can just let me know.”

“Bye, Millie.”

“Oh, I almost forgot. Let your girlfriend know she’s invited to book club. First meeting is at the library tomorrow.”

“I don’t have a girlfriend.”

“Right, of course. Secret girlfriend. Sorry, I forgot. In that case, she can come in a disguise if she wants. And tell her not to worry if she hasn’t read the book yet. Some of us haven’t had a chance. We’ll start by discussing the author, so there won’t be any spoilers while the rest of the ladies catch up.”

“Bye Millie,” he growled, and I heard the door shut.

I hesitated a few seconds before coming out. “Is the coast clear?”

He stood near the door, a foil-covered dish in his hands. “Yeah.”

“Was that Millie Waggle?”

“She brought brownies,” he said, looking down at them, his expression bewildered.

“Is it unusual for Millie to bring people brownies?” I lifted the foil and inhaled. “Oh my god, these smell amazing.”

“No, she delivers them all over town. Just never to me.”

I pinched a bit of the crispy corner and popped it in my mouth. It tasted like chocolate heaven. “Wow, that’s good. I guess having a secret girlfriend has some unexpected benefits.”

“You’re not my—” He growled in frustration and took the brownies into the kitchen. “This is how it starts. You know that, right? First it’s Millie with brownies. Next it’ll be someone with a casserole and pretty soon I’ll be answering the door every hour to someone new with a dish in their hands.”

“Why is this bad?” I followed him in and took another pinch of brownie—a bigger one this time. “That sounds like nice neighbors bringing food.”

“They ain’t doing it to be nice,” he said. “They’re doing it to get up in my business. And to find out who you are.”

“Did Millie really hear the secret girlfriend thing from Scarlett already? She was here like four hours ago.”

His eyebrows drew together. “You remember this is Bootleg Springs, right? Half the town knows by now, and the other half will by sundown.”

I leaned against the counter, picking at the brownies. Why was I being so indecisive? I should go. I could figure out what to do about the investigation and the Kendalls from my motel fifty miles away. Or from L.A. I could put three thousand miles between me and this place. Disappear again. What was I waiting for?

“Look, don’t worry about it,” Gibson said. There was that softness in his voice I’d heard last night. It made me feel all gooey—like Millie’s brownies. “We’ll just keep your stuff in the bedroom, and if anyone comes knocking, you can hide back there while I get

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