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Anna took her shopping bag, smiled, wished Olive a Merry Christmas, and left.
Thank goodness the rest of the day stayed busy. It didn’t give Olive much time to wonder what the hell was going on with her next-door neighbor.
But in those quiet moments while she was alone in the boutique, she did wonder…
It waseasy enough to lose himself in work. There was always something to be done at The Magnolia. In the past two days he’d reorganized the back room and taken care of some touch-up painting in the main area. He’d reconfigured his spreadsheets and then put them back into the original format again, which had been a complete waste of time. He needed to waste time to keep himself from thinking too much.
Colt had called several times, or tried to. He’d left a couple of messages Tuck had opted not to respond to. The texts had been deleted unread. Colt’s number was now silenced. Couldn’t the man understand that Tuck needed time to think?
On a Friday night, The Magnolia was packed. The music hadn’t started yet, but the band, a popular local group, was setting up on the stage. Music brought in the customers and he had to admit, he could get lost in the right songs himself. A good Friday-night crowd meant he could help Ginny at the bar, which was another way to lose himself in something besides family secrets and grandmothers. This was a job he could do with his eyes closed. No deep thoughts required.
He served a beer to a regular customer, turned around, and there she was, walking through his door.
Olive looked woefully out of place in The Magnolia, as if she’d wandered in from another world. She truly was from another world, or might as well be. She came from a decent family who loved each other. She’d grown up with and still had Christmases and birthday celebrations, the constant of family. Parents, a sister, nieces… grandmothers. She was not like him.
Damn, she was sexy as hell, and she didn’t seem to know it. Several pairs of eyes followed her progress through the room, to the bar where he waited for her. What was that feeling that welled up in him? Couldn’t be jealousy. Couldn’t be possessiveness.
So why was he so sure, as she sat on a stool before him, that she was his?
Ridiculous. He barely knew her; she was just a way to escape from reality for a while. Any beautiful woman who kissed like Olive would elicit the same feelings, the same sense of connection. He didn’t have time for this, didn’t want to lean on her or anyone else.
“I heard that someone here makes a mean burger,” she said.
“Slumming it?” he asked, more harshly than he’d intended.
She looked surprised, maybe a little hurt, but she quickly let it go. “I need to get my car out and drive it now and then. And I’m hungry. Dawn said I could eat at her house, but it was just too much. The girls. The dogs. Her in-laws.”
“It’s a lot,” Tuck said. He’d been at Mike’s house before, several times, and had the same thought. Too much.
“After a week of retail I could use a glass of wine with my burger. I’ve earned it.”
“Red or white?”
“Red. Do you have…”
“I have this.” He reached beneath the bar and grabbed a can.
Olive’s eyes widened; not in a good way. “Your wine comes in a can?”
“I’ll put it in a glass for you, princess.” He grabbed a wine glass, put it on the bar, opened the can, and poured.
She might’ve taken offense at the term princess, but all she did was wrinkle her nose in his direction before taking a sip of her red wine. He wasn’t sure if the drink met with her approval or not, but after that first sip she didn’t push the glass back toward him.
He went to the kitchen to put in her order, then placed himself before her again.
What was she doing here? How had she slipped her way into his life? Olive was tempting, he had to admit. Tempting enough to take his mind off the news Colt had shared, as well as the busy holiday season that seemed to be exploding around him. She was his neighbor, for a while. A friend, or getting there. More than a friend?
Maybe.
She spun on her stool and looked around the place. “So, this is the infamous Magnolia.”
“It is. Not as infamous as it was when my uncle ran it, but…” He shrugged his shoulders. “Probably not the best place for a woman like you to come on her own.”
“A woman like me?”
“A nice girl.” Not just nice, naive. Gullible. Why on earth had he ever thought… wished… dreamed… that she might end up in his bed?
“It doesn’t seem that bad,” she said.