Lydia finally looked up from her fake interest in the menu and said, far too casually, “She seems nice.”
Melanie didn’t even blink. “She seems like she has a thing for bartenders.”
I raised my brows. “Just bartenders?”
“Probably anyone with a pulse,” she muttered.
Lydia coughed, hiding her laugh. “Well! On that note, I think I’m going to check the bakery stall out front before it closes. You two behave.”
“Lydia—”
The door jingled shut, and just like that, it was me and Melanie.
The silence stretched.
She finally exhaled and muttered, “Of course she had to behere.”
I leaned on the counter, trying for casual. “Pretty sure she’s here for the drinks, not me.”
“Oh, please,” she said, rolling her eyes. “She was practically purring.”
“Didn’t notice,” I said.
She gave me a look. “Younoticed.”
I smiled, slow and small. “Only because you did first.”
Her lips parted, the tiniest flicker of a blush creeping in before she turned away. “You’re insufferable.”
“Still sounds like a compliment,” I said softly.
She didn’t respond. But she didn’t walk away either.
And standing there behind the bar, watching her fight not to smile, I realized that for all our bad timing, for all the frost between us, she’d still come here.
And maybe that meant the ice was finally starting to crack.
Chapter Seventeen
Melanie
The second Lydia slipped out the door, leaving me alone in The Rusty Stag with Drew Benedict and a thousand volts of unresolved tension, I knew she’d done it on purpose.
That woman was a menace in mittens.
The door jingled behind her, a burst of cold air swooping in just long enough to remind me that outside was safer. Less flannel. Less temptation.
Inside, though?
Inside was Drew.
And God help me, he looked unfairly good tonight.
The soft glow of the bar lights made his skin look sun-warmed even in the middle of December. His flannel sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, showing off those forearms that had no business being that strong or that distracting. The jeans fit just right, and the faint smudge of flour from some earlierfood prep clung to his thigh like even inanimate objects couldn’t resist touching him.
I took one step toward the counter before I caught myself. “Why did you say that to a complete stranger?”
He looked up from restocking glasses, a slow grin spreading across his face. “So you knew I wasn’t trying to flirt with her. I was saving her the trouble.”
