Highball Rush (Bootleg Springs #6) - Claire Kingsley Page 0,86

the roof lately. She wants it multiple times a day. At first, I thought I’d won the damn lottery. But now I’m fucking exhausted.”

“It is some weird Bootleg thing,” Jonah said, his eyes wide. “Shelby’s the same. She can’t get enough.”

“Really?” Bowie asked.

“Leah Mae, too,” Jameson grumbled, pulling down the bill of his cap. “Truth be told, I didn’t know a man could come that many times in a single week.”

“Wait, wasn’t George complaining about the same thing?” Jonah asked.

Devlin pushed the door open and came in, looking rumpled. His dark circles rivaled Jonah’s.

“Scarlett too?” Jameson asked.

“Insatiable sex drive?” Jonah added.

Devlin took a seat at the bar, his eyebrows knitting together. “How do you know that?”

“No one’s watching y’all,” Bowie said, scowling. “We’re in the same boat. Seems it’s all of ’em.”

“You bunch of pansy-asses,” I said. “Y’all show up late, then you want to sit around and bitch about getting too much sex?”

“Clearly you’re either not sleeping with Maya, or whatever’s happening to the rest of our girls ain’t hit her yet,” Bowie said. “Trust me, Gibs. You have no idea.”

People sometimes said Bootleg was a strange place, and I usually disagreed. I’d lived here my whole life—couldn’t quite imagine living anywhere else—so our shenanigans generally seemed normal. But this? My brothers, and the Dirt Hogs, all talking about their women suddenly running them ragged with out-of-control sex drives? That was fucking weird.

“Maybe it’s something in the water,” Bowie said.

I gave the water Nicolette had given me the side-eye. “Hey Nic, you back there?”

Nicolette poked her head out of the kitchen. “What?”

“You been putting something in the drinks that makes women horny?”

“Good lord, Gibson,” Bowie said. “Shut your damn mouth.”

“But has she, though?” Jameson asked, lifting his head.

Nicolette looked at me like I’d just told her she should stop serving blackberry moonshine. “No. I don’t think there is such a thing.”

Bowie scrubbed his hands up and down his face. “Okay, Gibs. Why are we here? I need to get home and see if I can catch a nap before Cass gets off work.”

It was my turn to glance around, but the Dirt Hogs had all fallen asleep in their chairs. Old Jefferson let out a quiet snore.

Still, I lowered my voice. “I found the lab technician.”

That got their attention. Jameson sat up, Devlin leaned forward, and Bowie and Jonah both asked, “What?” at the same time.

“The guy who matched the dental records,” I said. “Someone paid him to fake the results.”

“The judge?” Bowie asked.

“Not directly. But it was the guy who showed up in town, asking me questions. The one she said worked for the judge.” I still didn’t want to say her name out loud in public.

“Holy shit,” Jonah said.

“Do you have proof?” Devlin asked. “Will he talk?”

“Oh, he’ll talk.” I stuck the toothpick back in my mouth.

Devlin narrowed his eyes at me. “Gibson, you can’t—”

The door opened again, spilling sunlight into the dim bar. Cassidy pulled off her aviators, looking mighty official in her uniform. I figured it didn’t matter if she was dressed for work. She was a cop either way, so I wasn’t going to worry about whether she’d get too official on me. Scarlett wore a Bodine Home Services t-shirt knotted at the waist. Her jeans were dirty at the knees and she still wore her tool belt.

Both girls made beelines for their significant others. Cassidy draped her arms around Bowie’s shoulders and whispered something in his ear. He patted her hand, looking like he might be willing to chew his own arm off to get away. Scarlett was… Scarlett, which meant she lacked subtlety.

“Hey, baby,” she said, sidling up to Devlin and putting her hand in his lap. I couldn’t see what she was doing, and I didn’t want to know.

“For fuck’s sake, y’all,” I said. “Can we focus? I got the forensics guy.”

Cassidy stood up straight, suddenly all business. All cop. “What did you say?”

I repeated what I’d just told my brothers. Scarlett didn’t stop pawing at Devlin.

“He’ll talk?” Cassidy asked, eying me warily. “What’d you do to him?”

I pushed the toothpick around my mouth again. “We just had a conversation.”

“Uh-huh.” Cass crossed her arms.

“He’s fine,” Scarlett said. “We made him very comfortable at the Red House last night.”

Cassidy’s eyes moved from me to Scarlett, then back again. “You knew about this? Please tell me you didn’t kidnap the lab technician.”

“I didn’t kidnap the lab technician.”

“Well…” Scarlett said, drawing out the word.

I shot her a glare. “It ain’t kidnapping if he comes

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