Whiskey Kisses (23 page)

“Nope. She’s an angel.” For as much as Iz loves her mother, she’s the furthest thing from her.

“She’s about your age right? I remember her. Both girls had that same jet black hair as their mom.”

“That’s her sister, Laney,” Bryson offers. “She’s the one getting married to Ryder. Izzy’s a little older.”

“No shit.” Dad looks over to me, amused. “Are we talking about the spinster?”

That’s how Izzy’s mother introduced her.

“That would be the one.”

“How much older we talking—a year? Two?”

“Five.” I shove a bite of tenderloin in my mouth because the age difference doesn’t mean a damn thing to me.

“Five?” He tugs at his day-glow collar as if his food just went down the wrong pipe. “That’s half a decade! She’ll be thirty in like five minutes. Is that what you want? To be in your twenties, stuck hanging out with some thirty year old?”

“Yes.” I take a swig of my beer. I’ll need all the benefits this bottle can give me to survive the afternoon.

“I get it”—he saws through his steak—“you’re having a good time. Enjoy it. The woman you’re really meant to be with hasn’t even hit junior high yet. And there’s a lot to be said about dating an older woman at your age. They’re experienced. I dated an older woman once, right before I met your mother. She taught me some of the best tricks I know.” He shakes his head as if reliving the memory.

“I’m not in this for tricks. And I promise you the woman I’m meant to be with isn’t in grade school. It’s Izzy.” I glance at my brother. “As sure as Bryson is about Baya—and you are about Jenny—I’m that much more positive about Iz.” I threw in that part about him and Jenny more as a barb, but he’s too egotistical to realize it.

“Jenny and me aren’t happening.” He taps his hand over the table and swallows hard. “She took off last week. Something to do with an old boyfriend. I knew it wouldn’t last—most things don’t.”

I look to Bryson. It’s not true, and we both know it. Life is what you make of it, and so are relationships.

“Maybe you just haven’t found the right one, yet.” Bryson nods into his moronic theory as if he were being sincere.

“Dude—Mom was the right one.” I glance back at Dad. “You had a good thing until I screwed it up.” I trap my next breath in my lungs because I had no intention on letting that slip.

“You mean
I
screwed it up,” Dad corrects. “It’s true, I did, but I don’t think your mother and I were built to last. No offense to her. Great woman.” He shakes his head with a wistful smile. “All I’m saying is that sometimes a relationship simply doesn’t work out. It runs its course. It’s the way of the world.”

It runs its course? That’s just bullshit people who have fucked up relationships use to comfort themselves. And, the way of the world? I’m pretty sure it’s love that makes the world go around and not a series of serial breakups. Since when is he so jaded? Is this some aftereffect of what happened that night or has he always been this way?

“Have fun with your lady friend.” He gives me a quick wink. “But don’t forget to keep an eye out for someone who’ll look good on your arm for the long haul. Anybody can be
nice
.” He says nice as if it were a dirty word defined solely as a means of manipulation. “Trust me there are a lot of nice people in this world. Nice is a dime a dozen—but beauty—that can be a tough diamond to mine. In the business world, it’s all about how gorgeous that woman by your side is. Those guys are the true winners in life. The one who scores the hottest piece of ass wins. Beauty trumps age.” He stabs into his steak. “Don’t forget who told you so. There’s not one successful billionaire with an old hag hanging all over him. They’re dating supermodels—women thirty and forty years their juniors.” He takes an anxious bite of his food and swallows it down. “Youth is the name of the game, and if you don’t have it, you buy it in the form of a beautiful girl.”

“And then what?” Bryson folds his arms across his chest. He’s had just about as much of my father’s bullshit as I have. “You trade her in for a new model when she shows her first wrinkle?”

Dad jabs his fork in my brother’s direction. “Now you’re catching on.”

Nice. My father is a moron, and it took twenty-two years for me to realize it. Better now than never.

We finish up lunch and head back to the Black Bear. Neither Bryson nor I are up for spending any more time with our father this afternoon.

Maybe ever.

The next night, Bryson and Baya have an informal party at the Black Bear with their friends and everyone even mildly associated with the double wedding. Cole and I plan on taking my brother and Ryder out for some surf and turf on Friday—maybe catch a flick after. I guess we’ve all crossed titty bars off our to-do list, and I don’t feel bad about it. I don’t need those kinds of places, those kinds of girls in my life, to make me feel like a man.

Izzy walks in sporting a tight black dress that ends mid-thigh and heels that elongate her legs to the stratosphere. Izzy is the only thing I need in my life to make me feel like a man.

I walk over and drop a kiss to her lips. “Hey, darlin,’” I whisper directly into her ear, and she shivers beneath me.

“Hey, cowboy.” She digs her fingers into the back of my hair. “Looks like everyone’s here.”

“And then some. Annie’s been amassing new friends by the minute, and each one of them showed tonight for free appetizers. Can I get you something?”

“I’m starved. You want to split some nachos?”

“Sounds good.” I put in our order, and we take a seat next to Annie and her buddies.

“So”—one of Annie’s friends pipes up while openly checking me out—“you’re the available one, huh?” Her hair is up in two perfectly curled pigtails, making her look all of thirteen. She’s grinning at me, ear to ear, running her tongue over her lips as if it was a racetrack, and I know where this is headed.

“Nope, not me.” I try to scoot into Iz and wrap my arm around her, but the chairs are so wide they manage to keep us a good foot apart.

The girl leans into Izzy. “Can we trade seats?”

“No.” Izzy glares at her for a second. She doesn’t look amused by the fact this girl is trying to steamroll her. “We’re sharing a meal.” She blinks a smile. “And, if I’m way over there, he might leave hungry.” She slits her a look that says back off, this boy is mine.

“Oh, I’ll make sure that boy gets everything he needs.” She skims her teeth over her lip as if she were getting ready to take a bite out of my balls.

“Excuse me?” Izzy scoots back. Her voice pitches enough to let everyone within earshot know she’s pissed.

“No need to get touchy.” The girl tugs at a pigtail. “It’s just that I think your brother is hot. That’s one of the things I promised myself I’d do when I got into college—spend way more time with hot boys.” She raises her brows in my direction, and, holy shit, Iz looks like she’s ready to rip her a new one. “You don’t want to stand in the way of a young girl’s ambitions, do you?”

“First, you can have all the ambitions your little girl self wants. And second, he’s not my brother.” Iz looks over at me, a smile playing on her lips. “He’s my boyfriend.”

The girl in the pigtails breaks out in a cackle. “Yeah, right.” Annie nods, and she stops cold. “No shitting, huh?” She sinks in her seat a little. “I swear, I thought you were kidding. I mean—you’re pretty and stuff, I just didn’t think you were together. You’re like older.”

“Nice.” Izzy forces a smile to come and go.

“To each his own, right?” She adds, further burying herself in the hole. “I mean it’s not a big deal. Men do it all the time. I hope when I’m as old as you, I can do the same thing. You’re an inspiration. I think we should toast.” She and her friends are quick to pick up their glasses. “What’s your name?”

Izzy seals her lips tight. Clearly she’s not up for any of their sorority girl games.

“Okay, fine”—the girl smirks—“to the older woman sitting at our table. Thank you for blazing a trail for the future cougars of America.” She laughs under her breath at the dig.

“To the future cougars of America!” Her friends chime in, and it’s a bitch-fest all around.

“We’ll be
manthers
.” The girl next to her howls.

“We’ll be the hottest MILFs around!” She hacks out a laugh as if she’s already wasted.

Both Annie and her friend, Marley, look stunned as shit. It’s nice Annie has at least one friend with her head screwed on straight.

I lean into Izzy and whisper, “Let’s get out of here.” The night has already turned into crap on toast.

“No. Tonight is a big deal to your brother—Laney, too. Really, I’m fine.” The hard expression on her face says she’s not, but who could blame her for being pissed? “We just need to get used to the fact that people can be dumbasses.” Izzy says it while looking straight at the rude girls still nursing their drinks, and the smiles fade right off their faces.

A stunted silence crops up at our end of the table.

“We should never get used to bullshit.” I lean in. “Come here.” I touch my finger under her chin and pull her toward me until our lips find one another. There’s not a whole lot our kisses can’t cure.

The girls break out in a round of oohs and awws and one audible
eww
.

Crap.

Izzy gets up and excuses herself for a minute.

Izzy is right.

People can be dumbasses.

Izzy

Dear Dad,

Sometimes I wish I had tougher skin. You would think between you taking off and a mother who says it like it is, I’d have my heart wrapped in barbed wire but I don’t. I’m open and exposed, all flesh, no bone. Words cut me deeper than knives, and I’m perfectly capable of bleeding out from the wounds.

Soft shelled in Hollow Brook,

~Iz

Cougar.

I make an excuse about the inability to control my bladder at my age and head to the bathroom, locking myself in the furthest stall possible—ironically the same stall Holt and I claimed for ourselves a few weeks back.

Who knew girls could act so ridiculous?
Me
, that’s who. I should know—half the teenagers at the dance studio create enough drama to power a nuclear reactor.

The door to the restroom opens, and two sets of heels click their way in.

“Why would she just take off like that?” A familiar voice vents in frustration.

It’s Laney.

I suck in a quick breath.

Great. Now I’ve ruined her party. My finger closes over the latch, and just as I’m about to open it, I hear her give an exasperated sigh.

“I mean, what did she
think
was going to happen?”

My heart sinks. This is Laney—my baby sister who I fought all those years to protect. Couldn’t she do the same for me for all of five minutes?

“It’s not that big a deal.” I recognize Baya’s voice. “She’s a big girl, and he’s a big boy. They both know it’s going to be tough at times. It’s a cruel world. You and I know that.”

Tough at times?

“Tell me about it. After all that B.S. that my mother
and
Ryder’s mom put us through—I know exactly how cruel it can be. And that was just from family. It’s never easy. But, you know, this is different.”