Whiskey Sharp: Torn

“There are perks to being tall. And I’d appreciate the ride as I walked over earlier today.” And he’d get to be alone with her in the car, where he planned on asking her out.

He shouldn’t. He usually kept himself clear of getting involved with a friend or anyone in his social circle that he might have to see regularly in the wake of something unpleasant.

But she felt like home to him in a way that he couldn’t really put into words. And he really needed home after drifting for far too long.

* * *

CORA LIKED WALKING with Beau. When she stopped to peer more closely, and then photograph a wet leaf, he didn’t get impatient. When she wanted to look in a window or pause to stare up at the lights, he paused too. He meandered like she did. Which was something she found herself charmed by.

Certainly there was no denying the way people tended to get out of their way as they came along. Even sauced-up patrons, who’d poured out of bars and onto the sidewalks, parted to let them pass. He was big. Sturdy and broad shouldered. As a short girl, it was pretty freaking nice, she had to admit.

So she told him. Or, well, she thought it out loud, and then just went with it because it was too late to do anything else.

He leaned closer and the heat of him seemed to brush against her skin. “It’s a novel thing to imagine the world from your perspective,” he said in a voice that wrapped around her and tugged.

What an unexpectedly wonderful compliment that was.

“Thank you. You have a great voice. I figure I should go ahead and tell you that.” Flattered and a little flustered, Cora pointed at her car as they came upon the lot where she’d parked. “That’s me.”

Cora didn’t think herself overly concerned with things. But this car—named Eldon—was her not-so-guilty pleasure.

A gift from her mother—because Cora never would have done it for herself and because Walda loved giving extravagant gifts. When it appealed to her anyway.

It was low-slung and sporty, and when she got in and closed the door, the world drifted away.

He came to a startled halt. “That?”

Cora was glad it was dark enough he couldn’t see her blush. “Okay. I know. It’s an extravagance. My mom decided I should have it. And I tried to turn it down or talk her into a less, uh, over-the-top choice. But she’s Walda and she does what she wants.”

“I’m jealous. I nearly bought a TT S last year.”

Oh. Well, that was nice. Thanking him, she clicked the locks and he waited for her to get in before he followed suit.

“You’re really tall and I was worried you’d have to bend like a pretzel to fit in the passenger seat. So I’m glad that didn’t happen because you have those jeans on and I don’t want you to have to cut off circulation or whatever.”

Jesus, she just made a thinly veiled joke about his dick getting bent in an uncomfortable way. She’d been hanging out around the Dolans way too long.

He snorted a laugh. “I’ve never been as entertained by a conversation,” he said as she pulled out of the lot.

“Oh. Well. Good because I’m entertaining that way so I’m delighted you can see the benefits. I’m glad you’re in Seattle, Beau. I hope we’ll see one another again before you leave. And wow, this whole segment of our conversation is really just me wandering all around. I’m normally better at this. Really.”

“Still entertaining. Five stars,” he said through laughter. “I’d love to see you again. Me and you. What does your kitchen look like?”

“Uh. It’s a nice kitchen. I like to cook well enough. I decided to take the space from a third bedroom and make the kitchen and the master bigger. Gas stove.”

He nodded and she felt a little relieved that she’d passed a test of some sort.

“Are you free tomorrow night? I’d like to make you dinner and catch up on the last seventeen years.”

He just asked her out. She hadn’t imagined the chemistry between them. This day was pretty fucking great so far.

“Totally free. I’ll be home by six and I can handle the dessert.”

“I’ll be there by six-thirty with everything I need.”

A wave of heat washed through her. There was no misunderstanding the way his voice had that husky undertone. That was perhaps—hopefully—an I’ll be putting my mouth on you at some point during this date tone and she liked it. It left her drunk with delight.

She gave him her address as she found a space to slide into across the street from his building. “Okay. So. Um. I’ll see you tomorrow night then.”

He unbuckled himself, but before he got out, he leaned close and surprised her when he laid a kiss on her lips.

Just a casual kiss. Quick but not so fast he didn’t slowly drag his teeth over her bottom lip as he pulled back.

“See you then.”

Still tasting him, she watched as he jogged across the street, and then made his way into the building.

Cora wasn’t entirely sure what she was getting herself into, but she liked it.

CHAPTER THREE

In a flurry of wind a red leaf skitters

Dances on the air

As summer dies

And autumn puts on her fiery crown.

“WHY AM I not surprised?” Cora asked.

Rachel and Maybe stood on her porch with a pink-and-white box holding her favorite doughnuts and bearing big grins as well as coffee.

She opened up. “Get in here before you let out all the warm air.”

“You’re not surprised because we’re predictable and nosy. And because we come bearing coffee and doughnuts.” Rachel kissed Cora’s cheek before she put her things down and hung her coat in the front closet.

“We were sort of bummed to find out you’re alone this morning,” Maybe told her as she popped the lid off the doughnut box and carried it, along with her coffee, to the living room.

Cora snorted. “Don’t you two have to be at work or something?”

“My first appointment isn’t until one,” Rachel said as she chose a chocolate-glazed.

“I’m sleeping with my boss,” Maybe told her. “Makes it easier to take time off when I want to. So what’s the deal with you and sexy chef guy? I know I wasn’t imagining it. Especially when he just about shoved Wren out of the way when he got the chance to walk you to your car.”

“He’s making me dinner tonight.” Cora sipped her coffee.

Rachel grabbed one of the throw blankets Cora kept everywhere and tucked it around herself before saying, “I Googled him this morning after Vic left for work. He pretended like he didn’t know I was going to. We like to pretend I’m nicer than I really am. It’s why we’ve stayed together for two years.” Rachel continued after another bite of her doughnut, “But you know Beau’s had quite the colorful life. I mean. Wow. Also the modeling shots alone might have made me pregnant.”

Cora nearly choked on her coffee as she laughed. “Now imagine seeing that in person when you were sixteen.”

“Dude, I’m absolutely convinced I’d have had no idea what to do with a guy like him when I was sixteen. All the tattoos and the piercings. Super hot.”

“We saw the tasteful nudes. He’s quite gifted. And a natural redhead.” Maybe toasted Cora by holding her doughnut aloft a moment.

“You’re going to have to Heimlich me if you make me laugh like this while I’m eating,” Cora said between fits of giggles. “I missed you both. A lot.”

“We missed you too. When you’re done telling us about Beau, let’s talk about you not leaving for so long again.” Maybe reached out to squeeze Cora’s leg a moment.

“He’s got a complicated backstory, to say the least. It’s not every day you meet someone who was raised in and later escaped from a cult. Still, there’s something, I don’t know, genuine about him. He’s...” Cora raised her hands, not finding the right words for how she felt. “Aside from being gorgeous, he’s interesting. It was easy being with him last night at Gregori and Wren’s. And then after. He kissed me. Just a fast thing. Not a peck. No tongue, but he gave me some teeth when he broke the kiss. And he used the sex voice on me. It worked. I mean. Every part of me heard it, like a tuning fork.”

“Zing.” Rachel nodded her head and Maybe echoed the action. “You have zing. I have zing with Vic. Maybe’s got it with Alexsei. Zing is good if it doesn’t, you know, cloud your head because your other parts are too dazed. If you know what I mean.”

Cora batted her lashes and leaned toward her friend. “No. What do you mean?”

Rachel started to reply before narrowing her gaze and flipping Cora off.

Laughing, Cora said, “It’s been a while since I’ve been dazed with zing. It’s not underrated.” She hadn’t had that sort of delicious sexual chemistry with someone in years and she hadn’t realized until then how much she’d missed it.

“Seems to me your priorities are in the right order,” Maybe told her. “Get some.”

Rachel rolled her eyes before adding, “He could get it, no lie. I mean, if I wasn’t head over heels in love with Vic. Literally over the weekend. I need to start stretching before sex.”

Cora and Maybe both burst into giggles. This too, sisterhood, was a sensation she’d missed. The ability to be totally who she was—bumps and scars and flaws aplenty—with these two women in her living room filled her with happiness. Made her more confident.

“Now I’m going to have that in my brain every time I see him. Which is often, in case you haven’t noticed,” Maybe managed to say.

Rachel just shrugged. “So you’re going to let Beau get all up in your space. I also found out some details about his personal life. He’s got a reputation. Or maybe had? Anyway, he likes the ladies. And a few gentlemen too. But not for very long. He used to be a favorite on all the gossip sites. Partied. A lot. But you know, some of those pictures from back in the day were with Gregori and we know he’s changed. He’s had the same core group of friends for years. Gregori and Ian Brewster, the restaurateur friend he mentioned, both live here in Seattle. Another lives somewhere in Europe. That shows something good about him, I think. He’s loyal once he, uh, commits.”

Cora clapped her hands over her ears for a moment, blushing hard. She shouldn’t be gossiping about him! “Oh my god. I should have stopped you sooner but let’s be honest, I wanted to hear it.” She waved a hand, took a bite of her doughnut and thought awhile before she spoke again. “I knew about most of it. I’ve followed his career here and there over the years. I’m going to let him make me dinner. We’ll catch up and have—hopefully—great conversation, and then if there’s anything else—smooching, groping, what have you—that’s all good. At some point he’ll take his new recipes and that chiseled jaw away from Seattle. So why not enjoy what I can now? It’s not like I want him to move in or be my boyfriend or whatever. I just want some fun and to hang out with an old friend. Hopefully have excellent sex. Also I’d like a dog, which isn’t really about sexing up Beau, but more of a life goal thing. Not a big one because my little yard isn’t really good for a big dog. Small and smart and not yappy. I don’t like yappy dogs and the neighbors would complain.”

“This conversation is moving at the speed of light. I’m here for it. And another doughnut. We need to start our walks again so I can have more than one doughnut without guilt,” Maybe said, and then started to snicker. “Just kidding. I love having more than one doughnut and feel zero guilt about that. But I do love our walks too.”

Rachel said, “Okay, now that you’ve told us about your romantic life, why don’t you tell us the rest. Seeing you so happy about this Beau thing has underlined for me I’ve seen that Cora less and less over the last eighteen months or so. You’ve sounded less and less happy, more and more tired. Don’t you think it’s time to seriously rethink your job situation?”

They knew her so well. She hadn’t even really had to say anything.

“I love to travel. A few weeks away is one thing, but three months and more? Too much. And, to be totally honest? It’s a lot harder on my mother than it used to be. But she won’t admit it and she doesn’t have an off switch. So things go left and I have to clean up the mess. Then she gets mad at me because she’s not forty anymore. More often than not what I do is make excuses for some terrible thing she’s done to make someone cry and keeping her out of jail or worse. It makes me tired.” And it wasn’t what she wanted to do with the rest of her life. Being her mother’s cleanup person wasn’t a career she was interested in.

“Fair enough. She’s a big personality. But you’re not her keeper.” Maybe used what was left of her doughnut to stab Cora’s way and underline the point.

“Ha! I totally am her keeper. It’s turned into a family joke. I’m the Walda whisperer, the keeper of the creative. It’s fucking exhausting and I don’t think it serves her. Not who she is now. Her career is different. The world is different. I’m different.” Cora shrugged. “Anyway, I used to be content wandering the globe whenever and wherever she needed me. It was wonderful while it was wonderful. I’ve learned a lot. I’ve had a relationship with my mom that is totally unique and good. But it’s also... I’m the mom most of the time.”

“I think it’s absolutely fair that you want to reevaluate the situation now. Yes, she’s getting older, more frail. Especially in the last two or three years.” Rachel paused, looked Cora square on. “Even if none of those things were true it’s still okay. You’re an adult. You get to make choices based on what you want. You get that, right? You want to build a life that’ll take you into your future. You want to shift gears, sink roots and make a life that entails a different sort of work,” Rachel said. “Do it.”

“It should be all right for a while. She’s done, except for promotion, which won’t start for three or four months. And even then it shouldn’t take her too far from home. I should encourage that.” Cora grabbed her notebook and jotted a note down to do more radio and podcast interviews and to have them done in a local recording studio instead of traveling.

Rachel looked pointedly at the notebook before focusing on Cora again. “You’re still taking a few weeks off though, right?”

“Well. I won’t be traveling anywhere nonrecreational. In fact, I was thinking of leaf peeping and could probably include some birding. Perhaps cap it off with a stop at Samish Cheese? Something for everyone.” Cora grinned at them.

“I’m in,” Maybe said.

“Me too,” Rachel said. “Now, getting back to the question, which was about you taking a few weeks off.”

“Yes I am. From my mother. But I’ll be at the gallery. There’s a new installation coming up so I want to be there or who knows what they’ll do?”

“So now you can finally quit being the Walda-keeper and shift to the gallery full-time. But you can still take a week or so. I mean, what did they do for the last three months without you there?” Maybe asked.

The gallery was her baby. Sort of. Cora had spent a lot of time and effort in creating a space that had a voice. A unique voice in a very rich local art scene. “Call me fourteen times a day?” She’d pretty much done the job over the phone and online anyway. But that? That’d felt like it should have. She’d wanted to be involved. It fed her creative hunger in a way few things did.

“Okay then,” Rachel said. “Over the last several years you’ve mentioned here and there that you want to run the gallery full-time. Why not finally make that shift? Then someone else can handle your mom.” Rachel’s severe look had Cora’s denials dying in her chest. “It’s unfair that they’d expect you to keep on like this indefinitely. Oh sure, they all thank you for doing it—and they should—but none of them has stepped up to help you out. Not on this. Plenty of people can be your mom’s personal assistant/manager/keeper. For the right kind of money,” Rachel added at Cora’s expression. “You’re irreplaceable because no one will be as perfect as you. That’s a given. But Walda’s not the only diva in the world. We can help you find the right solution.”

Maybe leaned over to squeeze Cora quickly. “You want to defend your family. But I promise you we aren’t attacking them. We’re your best friends and it is our god-given right to take your side. And to tell you the truth.”

“So let’s skip the part where you tell yourself you’re selfish for wanting something for yourself. Who but you knows Walda works better when lightbulbs are this or that wattage? Or that she likes nutmeg in her coffee? And so what if you do? She’s a grown woman, not a toddler. She can express her wishes to someone else. It’s not like she’s shy,” Rachel said, deadpan.

No, Walda wasn’t shy. But beneath all the feathers and bright colors and whatever else she did, her mother wanted to be loved.

Of course Cora felt selfish. And guilty.

“It’s on the list of things I’m thinking about,” Cora told them both. “Thank you for caring about me enough to make me face this stuff. But I’m done with facing it for now. Let’s talk about something else. Tell me what’s been happening. How was your show last weekend?” she asked Maybe, who played drums in a punk rock band.

As Maybe excitedly filled her in, Cora leaned back, tucked herself under a blanket of her own and let being with her friends wash over her.

CHAPTER FOUR

That time you walked in

And the universe shifted...

I’ve been falling ever since.

OF ALL THE things from his childhood, Beau had come to terms with the way he’d been raised when it came to a usual lack of nervousness. He’d been a spokesperson, a face for Road to Glory from a very young age, which had given him a natural sense of ambition and ability. A gift of relating to people.

But as he wrestled the box with all the ingredients for dinner out of his trunk, he realized the butterflies in his belly were all about her.

It was fucking delicious.

He didn’t even have to look at his phone for the number of her town house because once he entered the circular courtyard he knew immediately which porch was hers. It just had the most life around it. An overflowing planter on either side of the steps framed them artfully.

And on each step, words had been painted.

I am the light of a thousand stars

I am cosmic dust made human.

As he got to the top step, he caught sight of her through her front window. She stretched up to light candles dotted across a mantelpiece. He couldn’t see anything but the grace in the movement, lost his other senses for a bit as his heartbeat seemed to thunder in time with the blood pounding in his cock.

He managed to hit the doorbell, and when she opened up to him, her smile lightened his nervousness. She looked at him like she knew him. And wanted to be with him anyway.

“Come in!” she said as she stepped aside to admit him. “You can put the stuff on the table.” Cora indicated a stout, round table in the nook just to the left of the kitchen.

He managed not to rush, no matter how much he wanted to hug her. Beau even managed to get his coat off and slung over the back of one of the chairs before he said hello and pulled her into an embrace.

She hummed, low and pleased, and a shiver rode his spine.

“Good evening,” he murmured as he brushed a quick kiss over her brow.

“You smell good. What are you cooking for me tonight?” she asked him as she started to poke through the crate.

“Thank you. You not only smell good, you look good.” She wore a bright yellow sweater with faded blue jeans and thick socks. Cora looked like a fucking flower. Pretty and fresh and sexy all at once.

She blushed and he found it incredibly appealing.

“So I, uh, do you like pasta? I was thinking linguine with clam sauce for the main. Some bruschetta with mushrooms and parsley and another with roasted and marinated red peppers and garlic.”

“Yum! I like all those things. I have a feeling I’ll be overeating. I grabbed some wine, red and white, and some Prosecco just for giggles. I wasn’t sure what you’d be making and it’s not like a bottle of wine won’t find another use if I don’t drink it tonight. Oh, and there’s beer too.

“I didn’t know what you’d be needing, so I just made sure the counters were extra clean,” she said with a shrug. “Cooking stuff is in the cabinets and under the stovetop there.” She pointed. “Use whatever you find. Ask if you don’t see something.”

“Perfect.” He washed his hands while she poured them both a glass of red wine.

“I’m a rebel. I wear white after Labor day and drink red wine whenever I please.” She toasted him, clinking her glass to his.

“I like a little rebellion. We can have white later with the pasta, if you like. Red would be fine, as well. Basically, anything you want because I aim to please.” He tied on an apron and began to get to know her kitchen, setting the oven to get the bruschetta started.

She cleared her throat before speaking. “Can I help in any way or just watch you prepare a feast for me and fantasize about you kissing me?”

He didn’t stop himself from bending down to kiss her. Intending it to be quick. But once she sighed softly, he couldn’t keep it quick. Instead he backed her to the counter and settled in, tasting, teasing, sipping at her until his skin felt too tight.

Cora slid her tongue along his as she pressed herself closer, her hands at his waist, fingers hooked through the belt loops of his pants to hold him there.

She was sexy. Sweet and hot. Like nothing he’d experienced.

It rattled him enough to break the kiss, but in two breaths he had to go back for another kiss.

Because he needed it. Her taste was dark and rich and utterly irresistible. He wondered if the rest of her tasted as good.

With a groan, he pulled away when the oven preheat timer dinged.

Cora cocked her head, her smile gone feline and satisfied. “Well, okay then. You can find me available for kisses anytime.” The slight slur of pleasure in her voice was a caress along the back of his neck.

“Now I’m ready to get back to work. You just sit there, keep my wineglass filled and be available for more kisses in case I can’t get along until I have another.”

“Right-o.” She hopped up on one of the stools facing him across her kitchen island.

He sliced mushrooms thin as he tried not to stare at her mouth, but she made it difficult because she talked a lot, smiled a lot, laughed a lot.

It was really only the fear of slicing into his finger instead of the veggies and herbs that kept him from drooling over her like a cartoon dog.

That made him snort, catching her attention.

“Do I amuse you?” she asked, a teasing note in the words.

“Absolutely. So what did you do today? What have you been up to over the past seventeen years? You only hit the highlights last night.”

“Today I had coffee and doughnuts here with Maybe and Rachel, and then I went into the gallery for a few hours.”

“I need to stop by the gallery and check it out. I’m curious and always looking for something new. Up until now, my art guidance has come from Gregori. Fortunately, he knows my taste so he rarely steers me wrong.”

Her eyes lit as she beamed at him. That’s when her dimple came out and had him licking his lips for another taste of her.

“That’s such a mistake to reveal to someone who runs a gallery.” She sipped her wine. “I had a meeting with a new artist today. She’s got a show coming up with us and I’m amazed at the stuff she does. We like to focus on regional artists, give them space and a voice. She came here with her family from Cambodia when she was an infant, so her stuff, which is mixed media, has this sense of roots and ownership of gender and identity that blows me away. She used to be a chemist for the state department of fisheries and one of her kids encouraged her to take early retirement and give her art more time. And she did. That was three years ago.”

He liked the way she talked about art. A lot like he suspected he sounded when he talked about food. As she described the pieces she planned to put into the show, the passion for what she did seemed to flow from her.