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That’s where he’d aimed, and he always hit his target. Maybe if he did more of that, everyone would finally leave him the fuck alone.
“I’m sick and tired of everyone coming around trying to get me to do what they want,” he bellowed. “Hawson wants what he wants. You two want me to work on this fundraiser and sing in front of half the town—of course, that’s if anyone shows up to this thing. Wait. I take that back. Oh, they’ll show. If for no other reason than because the people in this town love to watch a train wreck.”
Olivia’s cheeks blazed and she sucked in a deep breath, but she held her ground when a lot of others would have gone running. “You’re a real asshole, Mateo Garcia.”
“Glad you noticed.” He grabbed his coffee mug from the counter and took a sip of the now-cold liquid. “Now, if you two don’t mind, I have things to do.”
“Come on, Olivia,” Luciana said. “Let’s get out of here.”
The two women got as far as the front door before he realized they’d left something behind. “You forgot your dog.”
“No we didn’t,” Olivia snapped. “Maybe it’s time for you to start remembering that there’s more to life than that massive chip you have welded to your shoulder.”
They were out the door before he could come up with a scathing comeback.
The dog gave a forlorn half howl, snagging Mateo’s attention. “You want to go with them? Good. Go.”
He hustled out the door, the dog close on his heels, but he wasn’t quick enough to catch Luciana before her minivan was halfway down the drive. Olivia was nowhere to be seen—no doubt she’d stormed off to her cabin.
Mateo stood on the front porch as the dog whined and nudged his leg.
“What the hell do you want?”
The dog whimpered, pulling at the few heartstrings Mateo had left. Now he was scaring a homeless dog. Shit. He really had turned into an asshole. He hunkered down on the top step. The dog must have taken it as an invitation because he crawled into his lap and shivered.
“Shhh, boy.” He leaned back to make his lap bigger and rubbed up and down the dog’s spine.
Still the mutt whimpered.
Mateo didn’t mean to sing. The notes just came out as he petted the dog’s newly washed fur.
“Sitting on the dock of the bay, watching the tide roll away.” The sound was rough and rusty, the notes broken in places where they shouldn’t be and sharp as a KA-BAR knife in others. Still, he sang to the shivering dog in his lap until the mutt relaxed…and for a good long time after his snores began.
Chapter Eight
Even the tallest shoes in Olivia’s still-unpacked suitcase weren’t going to make this day any better. The first annual Sweet Salvation Brewery Veterans’ Fundraiser volunteer informational meeting had disaster written all over it. With only a few minutes to go before it was set to kick off, Olivia had everything in place—except the volunteers.
“Just the little things,” Olivia mumbled to herself while glaring up at the fast-darkening sky as storm clouds rolled in from the West. Oh yeah, feel free to pile it on, Mother Nature.
For the fifth time,
she double-checked the tables to ensure each had a donation jar fashioned out of a beer growler to take back to town and set up at local businesses to collect donations; a stack of flyers featuring photos showing the damage to the center to post on church bulletin boards and at community gathering spots; and plenty of pens in case someone wanted to write a ginormous six-figure check. Wouldn’t that be nice? One fundraising volunteer meeting and they’d raise enough to fix the center and get the Sweet family into Salvation’s good graces months before her new niece or nephew arrived. Now that would be a win-win situation.
A fat drop of rain hit Olivia square in the middle of her forehead then rolled down the bridge of her nose before dripping off the tip. Lightning flashed in the distance. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Bang. There went the thunder.
Miranda rushed over, armed with an empty crate that would normally be filled with freshly bottled beer. “Looks like we’re moving this shindig indoors, unless you put a last-minute wet T-shirt contest on the schedule of events.”
That made Olivia laugh. “Maybe next year.”
Moving fast to dodge the ever-increasing raindrops, she and Miranda worked together to get all of the decorations inside to the tasting room as the thunder came sooner and sooner after the lightning bolts that lit up the sky. They carried in the last dripping crate load just as the skies opened up and dumped enough water to limit the visibility to a few feet outside the brewery’s front door.
Her stomach sank.
Miranda came and stood on her right side and Natalie on her left. They stood there like sentries watching the rain come down.
“I’m sure it’ll pass,” Miranda said, sounding about as convincing as a sinner begging for entry at the pearly gates. “People will come to volunteer.”
Okay. This sucked, but it could still work. The tasting room was set up for a good-sized crowd and she’d arranged it so it would look as it would for the fundraiser in two weeks. There was a stage at one end for the band and they could run the blind beer-tasting challenge from the large bar in the back corner. People cold line up, taste the beer and deposit their vote for best beer in a comment box at the end of the bar. That was if the other breweries agreed to participate in the fundraiser. “Any word from the other breweries about participating?”
