Parker clinked his bottle to my glass.
“What are you guys toasting to?” Pia asked as she and Mason came up to us from behind.
“You won’t like it if I told you,” I said, turning in my seat. “I think I stole this from you,” I said, prepared to get up.
“No, stay. We’re good.” Mason gestured to Beck, who came immediately over. “Round for everyone. Where’s Jules?”
“Over there,” I said. She stood between two women, both of whom were locals.
“No. Fucking. Way.”
All of us, myself included, followed Mason’s gaze toward the front of the bar.
Cole Ford.
Not surprisingly, we weren’t the only ones watching him come toward us. If every single woman at the bar wasn’t already looking at Beck or our group—Mason and Parker made quite a pair—they were now watching Cedar Falls’ golden boy. It was an ironic nickname since he’d moved away during his freshman year. And his hair was anything but golden. Actually, he was the only one of all four of the guys with black hair and a dark pair of glasses to match.
I couldn’t remember how the name started, but it had followed him through elementary and middle school. Even I knew of Cole Ford, and he was a few years ahead of me, like the others.
“You fucker,” Mason said, standing as Cole reached the group.
Pia and I exchanged a glance as the guys hugged and greeted each other. Even Beck came from around the bar.
“It’s like the Lost Boys,” she said. “Finding each other.”
They really did make quite a quartet of men.
“Hi, Pia,” Cole said. His voice was low. Gravely. The kind of voice that belonged on the radio or narrating a book.
“Hi, Cole,” she said back.
He looked at me. “Delaney Thorton. Good to see you.”
“Same,” I said. “Guess the guys didn’t know you were coming in?”
“Nope.” He moved to stand beside Mason as Beck returned behind the bar. “It was a last-minute thing.”
“Not the first time you’ve surprised us last minute,” Parker said. “City too boring for you? Missing Cedar Falls?”
“More to it than that. I’ll tell you later.”
Mason’s brows drew together. He was clearly confused, and maybe a little concerned. Pia’s tough guy really did have a kind heart, not that he let many people see it.
“Everything okay?” Parker asked.
Cole nodded. “Yes, sir.”
“Best Scotch we have.” Beck handed a drink to Parker, who handed it to Cole. “On the house.”
“Guess I can’t complain about the quality of O’Malley’s best Scotch if it’s on the house.” Cole lifted his glass. “Thanks, Beck.”
“Anytime.”
As Cole talked to the group, Parker and I exchanged a glance. We’d been having a great conversation, even if it was on the serious side.
“Do you dance?” he mouthed, pointing to the dance floor.
It was a slow song, and as much as I wanted to continue our conversation, there was a part of me that knew having Parker’s hands on me would be dangerous.
