“So, you move to the big city, and suddenly you’re too good for the local watering hole?” I tease.
“I am not too good,” she defends. “I’m just not a bar girl. They’re so loud and sticky.”
I sling my arm around her shoulders, sliding a shot toward her. “We’re here to celebrate you landing a spot in that improv group you never shut up about and you’re visiting, which is reason enough.”
She reluctantly picks up the shot glass, eyeing it like it’s poison.
I bite down on my bottom lip to keep from laughing. Scottie isn’t a big drinker, but that’s never stopped me from peer pressuring the shit out of her.
Closing her eyes, she takes a few deep breaths, and then downs the shot in one gulp, immediately slapping her hand over her mouth to keep it from coming right back up. I’m already prepared with a lime and shove it in her mouth the second her hand slips.
“See,” I shout over the buzzing bar. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”
She chokes on a cough. “That was vile. Why do people drink this stuff?” She coughs a few more times, her skin taking on a red tint, matching her hair. “Jet fuel,” she croaks.
“Oh, stop. You’re fine.” I lift my hand to Rhonda to get her attention. She sees me and makes her way over after sliding beers across the bar to a group of rowdy guys. On a quick glance it looks like they’re cops. They’re not in uniform but in a town this small, I recognize nearly everyone.
“What can I get you, princess?”
“Water—”
“Two Palomas?—”
Scottie and I speak simultaneously.
“Palomas,” I repeat. “No water.”
Scottie’s shoulders slump. “I’d prefer water,” she grumbles.
“You can have waterafteryou finish your Paloma.”
While Rhonda works on our drinks, my eyes wander around the bar, landing on several familiar faces. It’s Saturday night, and with not much else to do since it’s off-season, the bar is packed with locals and people in town visiting family for the holidays. The group of guys are louder than ever, obviously celebrating something. They’re all surrounding one guy, but I can’t seem to make him out. After staring long enough,someone in the group moves, revealing Ryker at the center of attention.
“When did the Ken doll move back?” Scottie asks, looking in the same direction I am.
I shrug. I haven’t seen him in years. “I guess recently. First time I’m hearing about it.”
When a few more guys in his circle disperse, I notice he’s not alone. Tucked under his arm is a pretty brunette.
He must sense our blatant staring because his eyes meet mine, narrowing with a smile on his face. He pushes past the crowd, keeping his arm around the woman and coming straight for us.
“Elyse Ledger and Scottie James, the dynamic duo.”
“Hi, Ryker,” Scottie says with a dismissive half-wave. For whatever reason she’s never liked him.
“Hey,” I say with a slight slur, the tequila hitting me.
My gaze flits to his date, who looks adorably shy. Ryker shakes his head, like he’s just now realizing he needs to make introductions.
“Honey, this is Elyse and Scottie, they were a few years behind me in school.
She smiles sweetly extending her hand to me and then to Scottie. “Claire.”
As they claim the barstools next to us, I catch sight of something shiny, finding a generously sized diamond on Claire’s left hand.
“Are you guys engaged?!”
Claire beams as Ryker nods. “Yeah, I asked her last week. I just accepted a job as a deputy sheriff, and decided it was time to make things official.”
