Whiskey Chaser (Bootleg Springs Book 1) by Lucy Score

Author:Lucy Score [Score, Lucy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: That's What She Said Publishing, Inc.
Published: 2018-04-12T16:00:00+00:00

26

Scarlett

“Oh, yeah. Just like that, baby,” I purred.

“You sound like you’re having intercourse.” June’s dry tone broke through my hot oil massage bliss. Lula, my masseuse and friend since junior high school, snorted. Lula was tall and willowy with flawless dark skin and a riot of thick hair. She was drop dead gorgeous, an exotic looking beauty who wore denim and plaid. She was also rolling in dough, having capitalized on the tourism boom that began a few years ago. She bought the withering old Victorian and—with a little help from me—had renovated it into a kitschy, cultured day spa.

Now, Bootleg Springs Spa was the place to rest, rejuvenate, and drop a crap ton of money.

Cassidy laughed through her hot springs seaweed facial. “I bet that’s the sound your neighbors have been hearing since you and Devlin started knockin’ boots,” she said.

“Devlin is my neighbor,” I pointed out. “He’s usually there making the noise with me.”

“I’ve heard about you two,” Lula teased. “Makin’ goo-goo eyes at each other in the diner. Booking two whole hours in the hot springs.”

“We used every second of those two hours,” I said smugly.

June, bored with our conversation, turned the page in her copy of The Economist that she brought from home. She was having her toes painted a pearly pink. Cassidy picked the color for her when June’s apathy on the subject became apparent.

“Tell me more about these magical multiple orgasms,” Cassidy sighed.

“Damn, girl,” Lula said, digging her strong hands into the knots in my shoulders. “That explains the rug burn back here.”

I giggled. I couldn’t help it. I felt good. The kind of good that meant everything in my life was going in the right direction. For the first time in a very long time, I didn’t have some kind of lingering doubt or anxiety about the future. Growing up, I never knew exactly who I’d be coming home to, the fun, happy mom and dad dancing in the kitchen and making mountain pies or the screaming, accusatory parents who fought and then sulked in silence for days.

But now, things felt settled. I had a great job, a sexy neighbor who kept me entertained, friends to have a spa day with, and four brothers who annoyed the shit out of me. Life was about as perfect as it could get.

“He’s great. The multiple orgasms are great. And I’m great,” I reported with satisfaction.

“I kind of hate you a little bit,” Cassidy sighed.

“What happened with you and Amos at The Lookout last time?” I asked her, knowing Bowie’s side of the story.

“I gave him one dance for old time’s sake, and he was annoying. Thankfully Bowie cut in on him, but he just came right back the next song, talking about missin’ me and ‘let’s give it another chance,’” she mocked in a deep baritone. “Thing is, I haven’t missed him not one lick since we broke up, and that says enough to me not to get back on that merry-go-round.”

“Then how did the fight start?” I asked.

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