68 Whiskey by Erin Russell

FORD
People in this town avoid me. Which is exactly how I like it.
In my experience, people bring nothing but problems. It was just me and my dad since I was eight years old, and now that he’s gone, I’m doing fine on my own. My muteness, the fact that I look like a pro wrestler with an attitude problem, and the scars on my face that the town has gossiped about for twenty years all do wonders to discourage anyone from trying to get close.
Until Tristan. He’s a friend of an acquaintance… barely. But still, he has no problem smashing into my life like the Kool-Aid man and deciding to set up camp.
For no reason other than sheer willful brattiness.
It’s been a long time since I’ve interacted with anyone outside of work. And here’s this gorgeous, incredibly frustrating man who keeps following me around. It’s impossible to tell if he’s flirting with me, befriending me or setting me up for some sort of long-con practical joke.
I don’t even know which one of those options I want to be true. All I know is that the more Tristan hangs around, the more he sucks me into his chaos, and the more difficult I find it to go back to my normal, quiet life. Even when things start to get dangerous.

TRISTAN
I’ve run away from a lot of places in my life. Possum Hollow may have started out as another attempt to avoid my problems, but I’ve kind of fallen in love with the place. I’m not getting any younger, and one day I would actually like to have a life. Maybe. When the concept of that seems less daunting.
It’s kind of depressing being in your thirties and realizing your entire personality boils down to a lot of interesting anecdotes about the stuff you’ve done.
When I meet Ford, something about him just… clicks. I have no idea why. He’s big and mean and clearly hates me, but something in my brain lights up and decides that he is exactly what I’ve been missing in my life. I’ll turn everything upside down to get to know him better.
I don’t know how I want him to fit into my life, or why. I just know that I do. And I know that he’s going to keep objecting, but if ten years in the military taught me anything, it’s patience.
The only problem is that when I get excited about something, I tend to get a little carried away. And my desperate need to capture Ford’s attention drags us into the seedier side of Possum Hollow. One that I didn’t even know existed.
I want to impress Ford with my eclectic skills, without letting him know about the shady and slightly depressing childhood that spawned them. Instead, I crash-land us right into the middle of the criminal underbelly of the town that was supposed to be my escape from all of that.