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Hannah glanced away. She’d had a lot of choices in her life. Several involving Grant. And Grant had a lot of choices when it came to her. He was here. In her town, home, and bed. He was waking up making those choices, and Hannah was sleeping on them.
“It’s scary,” Laura said, as if reading her mind. “Because marriage is trusting someone to show up and choose you every day.”
Hannah didn’t have great experience with that. She’d never had her parents in her corner, or even Laura all of the time. Hannah had been left, forgotten, or flat-out ignored. Yet from the moment she met Grant, he’d made her feel seen.
A loud breath pushed past her lips of its own will. Her mind was in knots and her stomach fizzing because she hadn’t remembered to inhale through this conversation. Which meant she needed to change topics.
“I can’t even begin to deal with the Grant situation right now. I need to get this bar before I ever have a chance to lose it.”
“Maybe you’re trying to do everything yourself again. Getting support isn’t a bad thing. Counting on someone else isn’t a bad thing, either,” Laura said.
“Hey, I called you, didn’t I?”
“Yes, but you know I’m talking about more. You always handle everything yourself. Sure, you called me, but you’re taking this burden all on yourself, one hundred percent. You never let anyone in enough to take some of your struggle.”
“That’s because I’m fine,” Hannah defended. “And my struggles are just that—mine. I just need ideas on how to raise money.” She didn’t mean to snap at Laura, but she couldn’t handle the way this conversation was going. It was her own fault for letting it derail in the first place. Because she knew full well that Grant was the key issue here. And Hannah just needed something, for once, to go right.
“It’s possible, right?” Hannah asked, doing the mental math of what five thousand dollars in ten days would take. Only five hundred bucks a day . . .
She looked around the bar. A bar that wasn’t hers but felt like it was. Felt like she was so close to being stable, set, and happy. Being successful and more than just a bartender. More than her father’s daughter.
“Anything is possible,” Laura said with all the can-do attitude only a former prom queen could have. Her cell phone buzzed, and Laura flipped a lock of blonde hair over her shoulder and started tapping on it. Likely texting Jake, because she was smiling at the screen like a moron. If she started talking about love and babies and world peace, Hannah was going to take the nearest fork and stick it in her ear hole.
Babies.
Why had that word entered her brain?
First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes baby in the baby carriage.
Hannah wanted to laugh at her own internal absurdity. She had the marriage, wasn’t sure about the love, and babies? Hell no. She was way too terrified to be a mother. Too many risk factors for messing up a kid. Funny—she had a husband, and they’d never discussed family. Not that she would be having that discussion any time soon. Jesus, she needed to stop thinking about Grant. Because the more she thought of him and the situation she found herself in, the more those thoughts expanded into questions . . . particularly about the future.
She needed a break tonight. On the outskirts of town, there was a big dance hall bar.
“I think we just need to get creative. And the best way to do that is to clear the mind of stress and relax,” Laura said, putting her cell phone away after what seemed to be a happy texting exchange.
Hannah frowned. “Why do I feel like you’re on the brink of trying to talk me into something?”
Laura faked a shocked breath and held a hand to her heart. “I would never . . . ,” she said with so much embellishment, Hannah could smell the sweetness coating each word.
“I just think you need a break, and coming out with me tonight is perfect. We can go out, have fun, dance, and just relax and let loose a little. That’s when the ideas will hit.”
“Uh-huh,” Hannah said in a bored tone. “Surely they’ll hit due to ‘relaxing’ and not the five drinks you always end up having whenever we have girls’ night and you get a hold of cheap vodka and an open mic.”
“Hey, people love my rendition of Shania Twain.”
Hannah shook her head and smiled. “Whatever you say.”
“So you’ll come with me?” she asked.
Hannah could use an excuse to stay out of the house tonight and not deal with Grant. Because every time she thought of him, she thought of him naked. Which meant that being around him wasn’t the best idea.
“Yeah, I’m in,” she said.
Laura clapped lightly and took an adorable sip of her tea. “Good! Then wear your most sexy outfit.”
“Sexy outfit?” Hannah said. “I have jeans or jeans.”
“No, you have a dress. I saw it in your closet last month.”
