Clayton (Bourbon & Blood Book 2) Read Online Free Page A

okay. But Cody Blevins picked his nose… and then,” she pauses for dramatic effect. “He ate it, Daddy. He’s soooo gross.”
    I’m laughing as I finally escape the school parking lot. “That is pretty gross, baby,” I agree. Really that’s all I have to do with Emma Grace. She tells me about her day, I agree as needed. If only all relationships with women could be so simple.
    “I'm hungry,” she announces.
    “Pizza?”
    She's dancing in the back seat now. Pizza is always a winner. I turn the car toward Main Street and the only pizza place in town. It's been there forever. Hell, I used to hang out there in high school.
    When we arrive, Annalee makes a beeline for the ancient PacMan machine and I grab one of the cracked vinyl booths where I can keep my eye on her. She's the only thing keeping me sane right now. In all the rest of the craziness, I know that when she sees me her face will light up. There's no anger or disappointment there. Did any of us ever look at Samuel that way?
    I don't think so. Even searching my childhood memories, all I can recall is the sense of dread, of knowing that when he walked in, whatever we were doing wouldn't be good enough, would be messy, or sloppy and reflecting poorly on the Darcy family name.
    “Daddy, can I have some quarters?”
    I dig in my pocket for change and give her the few quarters that are in the mix.
    I want this back. Not weekends. Not random nights when Annalee is sitting in a bar having martinis with some asshole I don't even know. I want us. Me, her and Emma Grace coming to this shithole for pizza on the weekend, or driving up to Newport to the Aquarium.
    I see Emma Grace's face fall as she fails epically at PacMan. It's a common occurrence. When the last of her quarters are gone she comes back to the table just as the waitress is there to get our order.
    “Pepperoni?”
    “And extra cheese,” she says, grinning for added effect.
    “And extra cheese,” I agree. “Water to drink.”
    “I want a pop.”
    “Your mother doesn't let you have pop,” I reply. She's tried this before, seeing if I'll bend the rules. “It rots your teeth and then I'll be in trouble.”
    She makes a face, but doesn't say anything. Emma Grace is the one thing that Annalee and I have done completely right. She's a good kid—even with the mess our lives are in, she's a happy kid.
    “So what happened at school besides that kid eating boogers?” I ask her.
    She wrinkles up her nose and looks so much like Annalee it's a punch in the gut. “Allison told me her parents are getting a divorce like you and mom.”
    Do eight year olds really sit around talking about divorce? What the hell? “Is she okay with that?” Are you? I'm afraid to ask that question.
    “I don't think so,” she replies, twirling a straw on the table. “But she said her daddy moved in with his girlfriend. Are you going to do that?”
    “No. I'm not moving in with anyone else.” If I can’t have Annalee there's no one else I want.
    “I want you to come back home.” Her expression is so serious, so solemn that it's just fucking torture. This may be the only time in my life that I can't give my daughter what she wants.
    I shake my head. “It's not that easy. Your mom is really mad at me... and she has a good reason to be.”
    “Tell her you're sorry and you won't do it again.” She offers that sage bit of advice with complete conviction.
    “I'll try that. It might not work for me the way it does for you... I think you need pigtails for it to be truly effective.” I reach out and tug one of her braids to make the point. It has the desired effect and sets her giggling. That's the sound I want to hear. No more talk about divorces and people's parents moving out. She shouldn't have to think about these things.

    Annalee
----
    I ’m sitting at a bar that I don’t want to be in, listening to a man that I absolutely despise. Somehow the coffee date had switched to cocktails and I'm actually grateful. I need