Page 68 of Moonshine Lullabies

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Page 68 of Moonshine Lullabies

I frowned, “Then why do you live there?” I asked.

He shrugged and told me, “It’s cheap as fuck and allows me to send more money back to the ol’ homestead in Tennessee.”

“Is your family home not paid for?” I asked then immediately said, “Sorry! That’s none of my business and rude as fuck to ask.”

He chuckled and gave me a little squeeze, and kissing my head he said, “Nah, it’s paid for and it’ll be goin’ in my name once my papaw dies, but no – I send a bunch of money back home to make sure the old man’s taken care of. He needs a home nurse an’ that shit gets expensive even if she only comes in once or twice a week. I also hired a cleaning lady.”

“Ah,” I nodded in understanding.

“Anything that don’t get spent I know my papaw’s puttin’ up in a mattress in the house somewhere. He’s like that.”

“You’re a good man,” I told him and he kissed me again and said, “It’s nice to hear you say that, but the truth of it is? I’m only so-so.”

I laughed and shook my head and told him, “Another thing I love about you. How humble you are.”

He laughed at me then, and we settled in to wind down and to read to each other.

CHAPTERTWENTY-FOUR

Collier…

The week went by pretty uneventful. The stills were workin’ fine, my day job was goin’ fine, and my night times with my woman were the best part of my day. We’d have dinner, watch some television, or make love, and best of all, we made progress in that book we were reading.

It was a good story. A sort of supernatural alternate timeline where shit went sideways during the days of the Civil War. The main characters turnin’ into bounty hunters in the Wild West and fighting creatures that used to be legend but turned out to be all too real. A real wild ride, likeTombstonemeetsSupernaturalwith some really hot sex thrown in as the cherry on top.

I’d be lyin’ if I said that some parts of that book didn’t lead to some sexy times of our own.

The only thing better ‘n reading about how Cain felt about Hettie was how much I felt for Jessie-Lou myself.

Tate talked to his mamma nightly, and Cy came around mid-week for a night and crashed on the couch. He an’ their daddy was buttin’ heads – but other than that, we fell into a good sort of rhythm and even got to talkin’ and makin’ some plans for the near future on fixin’ up the house.

Somewhere in the conversation with her brother over dinner Jessie-Lou sighed and said, “I just want to go home,” and the toll of all the drivin’ back and forth and the bein’ in a strange place was etched into the lines beginning to bracket her mouth and the slight dent of worry in her forehead between her eyes.

“Just means I need to get workers to the house and workin’ on it pronto,” Cypress said and Jess looked over like he was mental.

“We can do it ourselves,” she’d countered, and he gave her a look back that was a little too kind for her liking and just set her on edge.

“Pretty soon, we’ll have plenty left to work on, but no reason we can’t hire out for them to at least put in all new windows,” he said and after thinking about it a moment, she relented.

“I know, baby,” I murmured, and covered her hand with my own.

She smiled at me, and Cy leaned back in his seat and took us in.

“Y’know, as much as I hate to say it, y’all look good together.”

Jessie snorted and he looked indignant, “What?” he demanded.

She raised an eyebrow, and he sighed and finished his thought, “Still, you hurt my sister, I’ll hurt you back.”

I laughed and shook my head and said, “Alright, man. There it is, and I expect nothing less.”

Jessie just rolled her eyes.

While she was in the shower, Cy and I had our real talk.

“Well?” I asked.

“Talked to my daddy,” he said, and he looked none too happy.