He just doesn’t like her because she’s my friend. “You sure? I’m not confident you remember mine.”
“I know your name,Meredith.”
It comes out as a purr, and I’m not ready. My stomach goes wild, exploding with butterflies. Worse still, it’s as if his vocalcords have a direct line connected between my legs. The more he talks, the stronger the pulse.
“Sawyer doesn’t get paid.”
“Of course she does.”
“Her hours are tracked, but she’s said before she doesn’t get paid. She’s working off a debt.”
He cocks his head, and I thrill at being the one to catch him off-guard.
I waggle a finger toward the near-empty taproom. “So you can tend the bar, and you can clean up. You even have a spot of beer on your shirt.”
He doesn’t bother glancing down. The beer probably asked permission to stain the material.
“I might think you can do morning chores next,” I add.
“Does Carlos need help?”
Carlos never used to need help, but that was because Ransom was there. My sister would care for the cats, Blue, and the chickens. Now I have to get up earlier to do it. Sawyer pitches in if Carlos is ever sick—more like muscles him back into his pickup and forces him to go home and rest. I can help, but I’m often closing the taproom. Otherwise, now it’s just Carlos.
“He’ll never admit it.”
Calder’s gaze intensifies. He’s clocking everything I say. That’s not supposed to be a turn-on, but after my ex, it only makes Calder’s handsome face with the smug tilt to his lips all the sexier. A girl could sit on that face.
Oh my god. I’m tired and need a long morning in bed pleasuring myself. I cannot get hung up on lusting after a man who might drive me off the ranch before he herds any cattle. My ovaries would not survive the sight of this man turning country. He’d better keep those damn slacks on until after the funeral, or I’ll be busted drooling over him. Then, once I’ve put my sister torest, I can slink away with my tail between my legs and my pride intact.
“Excuse me. I have a bar to close.”
“Wehave a bar to close.”
There is no “we” when it comes to Jules Creek. It’ll be either him or me, and the odds aren’t on my side.
TEN
CALDER
By the time I reach the house, I’m starving and tired. It’s…refreshing. Typically, I have to punish myself in the gym morning and night to get tired enough to fall asleep and stay that way until morning. Too many times, I’ve spent hours staring at my ceiling wondering about my decision, about Dad, about Mama.
Meredith parks in the garage. I walk in through the front and into the kitchen just as she’s arriving. She’s yawning, covering her mouth with her hand, but she quickly shuts her mouth when she sees me.
Watching her manage the taproom, skilled in all aspects of customer service, has left me with a knot in my stomach. That damn road crew that joined Ben and his partner gawked at her every time she turned around. I was ready to kick them out if they made any advances. I don’t need that shit in Jules Creek.
Molly isn’t as efficient. She spent more time chatting behind the bar than serving, leaving Meredith to handle the floor. While she completed her tasks, she also had long periods of low productivity. If the customers weren’t so understanding, many of them would have left. From what Bea suggested, Jules Creek can’t sustain lost business. But why do I care if I plan to sell?
To avoid answering my own question, I turn to the fridge. Meredith is heading straight there, but she stops. If she were still wearing her shoes, they would have squeaked from the abruptness.
I can picture her and Dad pouring through the door from the garage, chatting about the night and preparing a meal. He probably sat in the same damn chair I was in last night. She got the time with him I should’ve gotten, and normally, a thought like that might drive me off, but I’m ravenous. And since I didn’t see her stop all night, she has to be too.
“Hungry?” I ask.
“I was going to get some toast.”
I reach into the fridge, take out two calzones, and toss them on the counter.
She crosses to the island, her face full of disbelief. “Wha—How—When?”
