Thomas and Geneva McCallister were wasted on pumpkin pie moonshine along with the better part of Bootleg Springs.

The Annual Bootleg Moonshine Tasting was in full swing in the town square. We had twenty-six bootleggers who had set up their folding tables on the sidewalk in front of the courthouse to peddle their doctored concoctions.

The Banjo Trio, made up of Mrs. Morganson, Mayor Hornsbladt, and Sheriff Tucker, were stirring things up with a rousing rendition of “Dear Ol’ Dixie” with guest star Gibson Bodine on guitar. People were alternately dancing and drinking, some both at the same time. The cold that had gripped us seemed to dissipate for the night. Though that might be due to the alcohol everyone was indulging in.

I was pacing myself, as always. Devlin was covering his laughter with a coughing fit as Thomas and Geneva treated Sierra Hayes’s Cinnamon Blueberry Shine like a high-end cabernet at a tasting. Except they should have been doing a lot more spitting.

Bootleggers trained all year for the Moonshine Tasting, and we all still felt like shit the next day. But it was worth it.

“What am I looking at?” Jonah asked, closing one eye and tilting his head. Health food junkies were notorious lightweights and succumbed quickly to the ‘shine.

“That would be the Bootleg Seniors table,” I explained. Gram-Gram, Devlin’s Granny Louisa, and her girlfriend Estelle, were manning a table lined with shots of dark purple liquid.

Jonah picked up a glass and sniffed.

“Mystery ‘Shine, sonny,” Granny Louisa said before returning her attention to her knitting.

“Smells like cough syrup,” Jonah frowned.

“It’s mostly just for the color,” Gram-Gram assured him. “This here’s medicinal moonshine.”

I winced as Jonah downed his grape flavored cough suppressant.

“This town is pretty great,” he said, picking up another sample off Wade Zirkel’s table.

“Maybe we better visit the pepperoni roll stand,” I suggested, leading my inebriated half-brother in the direction of the carbs he’d disapprove of in the morning. “You’re still doing that Black Friday boot camp at the high school right?”

“Shyeah. It’ll be awesome. Burn those calories,” he said, pumping his arms like he was running. “Am I going anywhere?”

“Uh. No. But eat this pepperoni roll. Otherwise you won’t get out of bed for your boot camp.”

Jonah obliged, shoving half of it in his mouth. “Umm. Carbs. They get a bad rap, you know?”

At least. That’s what I thought he said. His mouth was too full to be sure.

“Hey, where’s Cass-i-deee?” he sang.

I shoved another pepperoni roll in his mouth. “Keep it quiet on the Deputy Tucker questions,” I warned him. “We’re playing it cool. No one’s supposed to know that we’re dating. Remember?”

Jonah snorted. “Like you could keep a secret in this town.”

“We’re gonna try. That Detective Connelly doesn’t take kindly to Cassidy fraternizing with murder suspects’ families.”

“That’s bullshit. That’s sexist bullshit. Bet he’s not sayin’ that to Sheriff Tucker or Bubba,” Jonah pointed out.

“Moonshine makes you wise,” I quipped. Sexist bullshit or not, I didn’t want Cassidy to suffer for dating me. How would I get the girl to marry me if just fraternizing with me cost her the job she’d been dreaming about since she was fourteen?

“Psst.” Cassidy strolled past me, pretty in a garnet sweater and navy vest. “Meet me by Mona Lisa’s coop in ten.” Her lips didn’t move, and she wasn’t making eye contact. She took the secrecy part of our relationship to extremes, like she was a teenager sneaking out of the house to meet her boyfriend.

I had to admit. It was hot.

“Hi, Deputy Tucker,” Jonah shouted.

Cassidy turned around and grinned. “Ten minutes,” she mouthed.

I needed to ditch Jonah immediately.

Gibson was still playing. Scarlett was babysitting Devlin’s parents and didn’t need another drunkard to run herd on. That left Jameson and Leah Mae. They were canoodled up against one of the outdoor heaters, starin’ into each other’s eyes like they were glued at the face. I grabbed a bottle of water and another pepperoni roll and towed Jonah in their direction.

“Jonah bet that he could do more push-ups than you,” I told Jameson.

I handed the food and water over to Leah Mae. “Feed him and water him.”

“Where are you going?” Jameson asked as Jonah obligingly dropped down to the sidewalk and started busting out push-ups.

“One. Two. Four…”

“Important vice principal business,” I lied. Jameson caught my drift and gave me the thumbs-up.

I was early and eager. But I’d thought about nothing but touching her all day long.

I paced back and forth in front of the chicken condo and wondered if Mona Lisa was in residence or if she was out enjoying the festivities.

I heard footsteps, and when I saw that flash of red sweater, I reached out and grabbed her.

Cassidy let out a little gasp of surprise that I devoured with my mouth. I’d been so close to her all day. Elbow-to-elbow and yet I couldn’t touch her the way I wanted to. We’d make up for it here in this cozy alley.

I pressed her against the cold brick of the building and kissed her like a man obsessed. She tasted like peach moonshine and starlight, and I wanted more.

Her hands were in my hair, running under my jacket, streaking under my shirt, seeking skin, contact. We’d been deprived for so long. And now we were loved. Whole. Real.

“I love you,” I murmured against her mouth.

“I’m starting to believe you,” she breathed before dragging me down for another kiss.

I leaned into her, holding her against the brick with my hips.

“This is my new favorite position,” she said on a laugh and a sigh.

“Mine, too. Whatever position you’re in is my favorite.”

I shoved my hands under her sweater and found her skin warm and welcoming. She was so smooth and soft. I had trouble believing she was real.

“I used to dream that you’d do this. That I’d walk by and you’d reach out and grab me. Drag me into the dark. Have your way with me,” she whispered.

“Honey, believe me. I thought about it more than a time or two,” I confessed, pressing a kiss to her neck.

I wanted to bite her, taste her, mark her.

“Don’t you dare leave a hickey,” she hissed, reading my mind.

We’d known each other for so long, sometimes I couldn’t separate her thoughts from mine.

She kissed me again with a desperation that drove me insane. So familiar and so new.

“What do you say we go on home?” Cassidy asked, her eyes glassy with need.

“You don’t mind missing the tree decorating?”

She snickered. The Moonshine Tasting always ended with tasters drunkenly decorating the bottom six feet of the twenty-foot spruce on the square in front of the bank. Tomorrow town maintenance workers would undo the mess and decorate it the right way. But for one shining night, Bootleg Springs proudly wore its mess.

“I think I can skip a year,” Cassidy said, pressing a kiss to the corner of my mouth before pulling on my bottom lip with her teeth.

“If you don’t walk away right now, we won’t make it home. It’ll be in an alley with a chicken as a witness,” I warned her.

I was so hard I was going to have a zipper imprint on my dick.

Her eyes sparkled at me, and I realized I’d never seen a prettier girl in all my life. Lust and love coiled deep in my gut and bloomed like a fucking rose. With Cassidy, I had it all.

“Let’s go home,” she said, taking my hand and pulling me toward the mouth of the alley.

“Oh, excuse me. Sorry!” Cassidy stopped suddenly, and I rammed into her back, knocking her right into Judge Kendall’s arms.