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A dark strand falls in his face, brushing his eyebrow. Wind sweeps away some of the heat, but it does nothing to quell this fire in my chest.
A piece of my own hair brushes my cheek, and Shane dares to sweep it away, tucking it behind my ear. The wet path of his fingers sends goose bumps up my arms. He’s gentle for a man with blood on his hands.
Calm.
Patient.
His fingertips linger, tracing down the side of my neck. So soft, we might be moving in slow motion.
Until commotion from down the street snaps me back to reality. I pull away, realizing where I am and how many people are probably watching.
“Thanks for your help.” I glance anywhere but at him, diverting my attention to East and Aiden loading the truck. “Are you guys building something?”
And is my voice a pitch higher?
“Just picking up a few things for your brother. We’re headed out to your family ranch now.”
“Well, tell him I said hello.” I toss the sponge into the bucket, and water splashes me, making an even bigger mess of me than I already am.
Not wanting to embarrass myself further, I smile big and pretend I’m not dying inside.
“Looks like they’re ready to go.” I motion to East, who’s waving Shane down. “Have fun.”
Shane stares at me, his mouth hanging slightly open like he’s about to say something. After a long pause, he snaps it shut and walks away.
Etta, Alice, and Ruby all swivel their heads as they watch him go. And when he finally climbs into the truck, their faces snap in my direction. Three broad smiles tell me I’m not hiding a damn thing right now.
Etta lifts her wineglass to her lips, pausing before she takes a sip. “Guess we got our answer.”
10
HARLOE
Muggy heat hangs heavy in my apartment. I close the windows and crank the air conditioner, already dripping sweat from a long night at the bar. There were three separate fights tonight. Thankfully, only one required the cops because the sheriff has been an asshole to me ever since I left Zander at the altar.
My head throbs as I graze my fingers over the knot on the back of my head. I knocked it on a beam trying to break up two of the guys fighting. After that, Rob stepped in and kicked the men out.
I’m exhausted, I reek of spilled beer, and my clothes stick to my skin as I peel them off and step into the shower.
Warm water has never felt so good.
The scent of soap envelopes me.
Beads of lukewarm water run down my body as I rest my head against the tile, and exhaustion seeps through to my bones.
Busy nights have been blending together lately, and there’s no slowing down. One missed payment and the bank will take the bar. We’re having to get creative to make sure that doesn’t happen.
Last Sunday, we hosted a lunchtime trivia. It was mildly successful, even though Gerald got a little too drunk and started stripping off layers thinking we were playing strip poker. After that, we had to enforce a three-drink limit during game time.
Between trivia and extending our hours to open earlier during the week, we’ve managed to bring in a little extra cash.
Unfortunately, it means I haven’t had a day off in thirteen days, so I’m practically sleeping on my feet. I’m tired and burned out. Which is why, when I showed up to work this morning and saw a neon-painted cock on the window to the bar, I nearly had a meltdown right there on the pavement.
Until Shane showed up.
He didn’t ask if he could help; he just did. He stayed, scrubbed, and listened. My bad mood didn’t scare him off. If anything, it seemed like he was genuinely interested in what was bothering me.
Every time I think I have Shane figured out, he proves me wrong, and I don’t know what to do with that.
