Looks like I’m going to Timberline tonight.
CHAPTER 27
LEVI
Timberline is a smidge bit louder tonight than I prefer. Obnoxious laughter and drunken shouting spill from a table near the dartboards. Resin pool balls crack together behind me as blue-collar workers place bets on their games. The scent of fried food and beer hangs thick in the air.
The waitress weaves through the crowd with practiced ease, balancing more plates and cups with one arm than any person should be able to. Wes catches her eye from behind the bar and silently points toward a new group of patrons that just walked in. She nods once before emptying her tray and changing course.
They’ve been doing this song and dance for years.
Most of the residents of Evergreen Falls come here to unwind after a long week of hard work, and soon, Timberline will be overrun with tourists.
I’m here because Santiago sent me a text.
Santiago: Timberline. Twenty minutes.
Now there’s a man who works hard but also plays hard.
Recently, my “playtime” has consisted of daydreaming about Blake Jennings. The problem is that I’m always thinking of her. When I’m working, when I’m sleeping. She more than haunts my thoughts.
She consumes them.
And I’d be lying if I said I wanted it to stop.
The label on my beer is half destroyed when I glance at the entrance for the sixth time. On the seventh, the door swings open, and relief slumps my shoulders, but then confusion has my spine straightening.
Santiago walks inside, and his eyes find me quickly. When he strides for me, I notice that Blake trails behind, followed by Walker.
When I get a good look at her, my mouth practically waters. A fitted cropped top has her breasts ready to spill free. Part of me wishes it would happen, but then I’d have to kill every person in here for getting a glimpse at her tits.
I force my gaze back to her face.
I last all of three seconds before I fail spectacularly and settle my eyes back on her chest.
Suddenly, I’m grateful she’s wearing a cardigan.
They each take a seat at the square table I saved for us. Santiago pulls out a chair for Blake, placing her on my right, Walker takes up the seat on my left, and Santiago sits down opposite me.
Walker removes his coat, placing it on the back of his chair, and the other two do the same, except Blake just has a cardigan.
Where’s her jacket?
It’s below twenty degrees outside.
Did Santiago forget her coat or did Blake?
The waitress stops by, knowing our usual, and places a beer in front of Santiago and Walker. “The same for you?” she questions Blake.
“Sure,” Blake answers compliantly.
“Wait,” I say to the waitress, then turn to Blake. “Have you eaten?”
Blake raises her eyebrows as if I just dumped a load of audacity in her lap. “I’m capable of feeding myself, thank you. I’ve been doing it for decades.”
I give her a look and reply, “I know, but humor me.”
Blake’s stomach chooses that moment to let out a grumble comparable to that of a mama bear whose cubs are being threatened.
