I leaned against the balcony railing, eyes closed, letting the thin sun rays spill across my face. The clatter of horse hooves rose from the course below. The next Shelby horse wasn't racing for another hour or so, and by the way I was knocking back whiskey, I'd need to pace myself to make it that far.
"Alright?" John said, taking his seat on the balcony.
"Where's Arthur?" I asked.
"Gone to place a bet. Picked his moment while Tom's not here, I expect." John lit a cigarette, his former smirk returning to his face. "Speaking of... looks like the pair of you finally caught on."
My cheeks flushed pink. "Meaning what?" I asked, taking the seat beside him.
John shrugged. "Only, the rest of us saw it coming for weeks."
I rolled my eyes. "I'm sure."
"I'm serious. He's soft around you. Softer in general," John said. "No one else has made him like that before."
I released a small sigh, as slowly as I could. I was on dangerous ground now — because I longed for the words to be true. And I wished, more than anyone, I could tell John the truth.
"I don't know about that," I said slowly. "I don't think he's... quite emotionally invested."
"Bullshit," John laughed. "You should see the way he looks at you. I'm almost gutted he snapped you up before I could."
I was used to John's sense of humour, even when it was flirtatious. I rolled my eyes but allowed myself one small smile. "How are things back home?" I asked. "Barmaid causing any trouble?"
"You should have seen us yesterday." John leaned in conspiratorially. "Arthur and I went down there, rounded up a few of the boys. We acted drunk as anything... technically we were drunk as anything, but anyway, we mouthed off some stuff. Mostly lies, with just a little truth peppered in there. Enough to keep them busy chasing their own tails for a good few weeks, I'd say."
"Brilliant," I laughed.
"When will you two be back?"
"I'm not sure," I frowned. "You'd have to ask Tommy. I think we've got a couple more days down here."
"Lovers' retreat?" John teased.
I swatted at his arm, before remembering that was exactly the impression we were aiming for. "Something like that."
John's mouth twisted into a smile once more. "Tell you what, Kimber. Let's play a drinking game."
"No way. I won't be able to walk."
"Let me finish," John said. "One shot of whiskey. One question. You can ask me anything you like about Tommy, about Shelby enterprises. Whatever you want."
Damn. The offer was tempting. I knew in the back of my mind I needed to refuse, keep a clear head, but my head was already muddled from the two glasses of whiskey I'd had. Anything would have seemed like a good idea in that mindset.
"You're on," I decided. "But be warned. I'll drink you under the table."
John grinned as he stood and went to grab the decanter. "I admire your confidence, even if it is misplaced. Ah, Arthur," he greeted his brother, who'd just returned. "Drinking game. Care to join?"
"Why fucking not?" Arthur said. "We'll be sinking them anyway."
"That's the spirit."
John pushed a full glass into my hand and they both sat beside me on the balcony.
"I'll start," John said. He knocked back his drink and sat for a moment, fingers curled around the patterned glass. He was already pouring his next one when he spoke. "What did you and Tommy get up to last night?"
Arthur chuckled. "Nice one."
"Sorry to disappoint, but nothing interesting. We were both exhausted from the drive." I knocked back my own drink. The whiskey blazed a trail right through me, and my head felt heavier almost instantly. "Does Tommy still sleep with whores?" I asked.
Arthur choked on his own drink. John raised an eyebrow. "How do you know about that?" He asked.
"Please. You lot are the least discrete people I've ever been around. I dread to think how much the Barmaid overheard before we found her out." I fixed my gaze on Arthur, knowing he'd crack before John. "Does he?"
"Erm... I'm not sure," Arthur mumbled. "Not for a while... not that I know about."
"Why, Kimber? You jealous?" John asked.
"Not at all," I lied. "Your turn, Arthur."
Arthur cleared his throat and drank. "Why didn't you take off when you had the chance?" He asked.
I thought for a moment. "Because I sensed an opportunity."
"With Tommy?"
"In a sense." I tipped back my drink once again, having been graciously refilled by John. I hoped Arthur was drunk enough to answer me honestly. "Why did you warn me about Tommy? Why shouldn't I trust him?"
John threw Arthur a questioning glance. The older Shelby brother twisted his glass around in his hand, sighing gently. "I didn't mean it like that," he began.
"Then what?"
"Forget it," Arthur said, finishing his glass and grasping the decanter. "Game's over. Who wants lunch?"
He made himself busy inside, clattering plates and food covers.
"What was that about?" John asked.
"Nothing," I lied, my mouth sour as I finished my whiskey. I stood to my feet, intending to follow Arthur and demand the truth from him, but the balcony seemed to be swaying and spinning, dizzying me off-balance.
I stumbled, falling onto John, who pulled me up and steadied me by my shoulders. "Easy, Kimber," he said. "Tommy'll never forgive us if he finds you in this state."
"Oh no," I groaned.
John chuckled. "Come have some food. It should help."
I let him lead me inside, but the smell of fresh ham sandwiches made my stomach turn in my state. I was still struggling to stand upright. "I can't."
"Bloody hell," Arthur muttered, eating his third small triangle sandwich. "We can't let Tommy see her like this."
I slumped to the floor, covering my face with my hands. "I don't know what happened," I mumbled.
"You drank like a Shelby." John clapped a hand on my shoulder. "Problem is, we've got years more experience, and Tommy doesn't give a shit if we pass out in a puddle of our own piss."
I wrinkled my nose. "I'm not that bad, am I?"
"You tell me." John stiffened. I looked up and saw him raise his eyebrows, shooting Arthur a warning glance. "He's back."
"Already? Fuck," Arthur swore. "Kimber, get to your feet. Act normal."