Page 130 of Property of Whiskey

“I like you.”

Twila freezes.

So do I.

Fuck.

Her eyes widen.

Pounding hits the front door.

I shut my eyes.

“No.”

Another knock comes louder.

Twila starts laughing. “You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

“If that’s your daddy, I’m moving to Tennessee.”

The pounding comes again.

“Whiskey!”

Woman’s voice.

Every bit of heat in me drops through the fucking floor.

Twila notices. “That ain’t Daddy.”

“No.”

“Who?”

I climb off the bed.

“Stay here.”

She sits up straighter. “Oh, absolutely not.”

“Twila.”

“Who is she?”

“Don’t start.”

“That answer means woman.”

I tuck myself back into my underwear and yank my jeans closed while Twila sits up. “No.”

She stops. “What?”

I scrub a hand over my face.

“Fuck. I mean, you don’t need to deal with this.”

“I’ll decide what I need to deal with.”