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We lock eyes, silent for a split second, and then crack up. “Oh, he’d argue, all right. Thinks he can do anything a man forty years his junior can do.” She drops the spoon back into the pot on the stove, stirring slowly as though that makes her next question seem casual. “Speaking of younger men . . . you bring back a particular one with you?”
Gossip from the source, the town pastime.
“Maybe,” I drawl out around a grin.
“Yes!” Chili goes splattering as she throws her arms high in celebration. “You two are the cutest. Glad you got yourselves worked out.”
She gets back to work with her huge pots of chili simmering on the stove, which reminds me, “Oh, Unc said he wanted his usual and a bowl of chili for my mom.”
Ilene hums as she pulls down a bowl, and I excuse myself back out to the bar to let her work. Almost immediately, I’m attacked by Olivia.
“Willow!” she shouts, running for me. She has no problem hugging me, her arms wrapping around me so tightly she almost picks me up.
“Olivia!” I parrot her excited tone, laughing and trying to squeeze her back.
She sets me down, pulling back to ask, “When did you get back? Are you already working? Where’s Bobby? Did you take him back? Holy shit, you should’ve seen him come barreling in here demanding that Hank tell him where you were. It was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”
She fans her face, and I swat her shoulder, ignoring all the other questions to answer the most important one. “Down, girl, he’s all mine.”
It feels good to claim him again because he is mine, and nothing or no one is going to change that.
“Yeah, he is.”
“Quit yer chitter-chatter and get to work, you two,” Unc says, sounding grumpy. But when I look over, he’s smiling, his happiness obvious on his lined face and in his bright blue eyes.
“Let’s go!” a loud voice calls out over by the pool table.
“Pull yourself together,” Unc hollers back, “or I’ll cut you off before the party even gets started, Willie.”
The young guy, who has a permed mullet—yeah, both hairstyles on one blonde head—isn’t the least bit chastised, flashing Unc two thumbs up and a big, open-mouthed grin.
My lips lift ever so slightly, fighting a laugh, because Willie’s not even drinking. It’s straight Coke in his glass, no Jack. He’s just excited because Bobby is playing tonight. He’s calling it his ‘return tour’, and while I’d been nervous that it was a coping mechanism at losing the deal again, he seems entirely okay with being home.
Surprisingly, we haven’t heard a peep from Jeremy Marshall, either. I worried that Bobby would hear from his lawyer. Bobby said he didn’t give a shit and would be glad to step in a room again with him to finish the job, but it’s been total radio silence.
The door opens and a whole party’s worth of people comes in—all the Tannens and Bennetts.
“Mama Louise!” I exclaim. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in here.”
That might be true, but she hops up on a stool like she’s a regular. “Oh, I get by every now and again, but I had to see Bobby’s return tour. Cooper’s at a friend’s house for the night, and Sophie got a babysitter for Cindy Lou.”
Bobby dares to come behind the bar, one of the few people Unc allows that privilege, and for one reason only. He catches me around the waist, his arms vice-tight at my middle and his body pressed to my back. His lips lay a soft kiss to my neck as he inhales me. I probably smell like sweat, beer, and lemons, but he doesn’t seem to mind. His stubble scratches at my cheek, but I turn into it, loving the feel of him against me.
“Hey, sweetheart,” he growls, peppering more kisses along my jaw.
I turn in his arms to kiss him back. It’s quick but meaningful. I don’t think I’ll ever take for granted the ability to kiss this man anytime I want to, especially since I’m the only woman who can do so.
“Hey yourself.” I smile and watch his eyes wander over my lips as though my smile makes him happy. “Your fans are ready for you again.”
“I only care about one fan. You ready for me?” His voice has gone deep, dark, and gritty, instantly turning me to mush.
“Always,” I whisper.
He groans, and neither of us are talking about his show anymore.
“We got the table!” Shayanne yells in celebration, as if she’s surprised at the ‘reserved’ sign on their booth.
“Go and sit down, relax for a bit. I’ll bring a round over.” Though he places one more groan-accompanied kiss to my lips first, Bobby does follow the rest of his family to the booth.
Before I can pull a pitcher, Mark is at the bar. He grunts at me as a way to catch my attention, and I lift my brows in question.
