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Patrick made a face. “Well, I don’t even like girls. And my dad told me that they’re a lot of trouble.”
“That they are, my friend.” Zach chuckled and looked at Ruby. “No offense.”
“None taken.” She took a step back. “It was nice meeting you, Patrick, but I have to run.” She didn’t meet Travis’s eyes, and didn’t offer a goodbye to him either. She nodded to Zach and headed for the clubhouse.
“She’s pretty,” Patrick said.
“Yeah,” Travis murmured, eyes on her as she made her way through the crowd. No doubt on her way to see Chance.
“You should ask her to be your girlfriend. I bet she would say yes.”
He looked down at the kid. “I doubt it.”
“You could try,” Patrick said, yanking on his hand and grinning widely.
“Listen to the boy,” Zach said, slapping him on the shoulder. “What does Coach say?” He leaned closer and mouthed the words. Try harder.
If Travis didn’t have Patrick’s small hand in his, he would have hauled off and used his fist to wipe that silly-ass grin off Zach’s face. As it was, he had to settle for a mental fuck you.
“Who’s ready to eat?” he asked, looking down at Patrick.
“Me!”
“I’ll grab our clubs,” Zach said. “And meet you inside.”
Travis led the way toward the clubhouse, and once he found Gwen and Brad, deposited Patrick at their table before heading to the bar. He could use a stiff drink before dinner. He rested his hands on top of the bar, eyes sweeping the room. Chance and Ruby were huddled close together on the other side, having a “conversation.”
“Bet they have lots of those,” he muttered to himself. His mood was dark, and he probably should leave. He wasn’t sure he could handle seeing Chance and Ruby together for the next few hours.
“What was that?”
He jerked his head away from his ex, his gaze landing on dark eyes that were more than a little unsettling. It was the new bartender from Nash’s place.
“What are you doing here?” he asked, the words spilling out more rudely than he meant.
“I’m serving drinks,” she replied without missing a beat. “What’s it look like?”
“Honey, right?”
“Yep.”
“I need a drink.”
She raised an eyebrow as if to say no shit, and held up a beer mug. Travis shook his head.
“You need something stronger. That means one of two things.” Her voice was naturally husky, as if she should be serving in some blues club in the bayou instead of an upscale clubhouse in Michigan. She reached for a bottle of G
len Fiddich. Travis nodded and waited.
He accepted the tumbler and tossed back the entire thing back in one gulp. “What’s it mean?” he asked, waiting for another.
Honey poured him a second, neat, and then stood back as he held the glass in his hand.
She shrugged. “It means you either lost something or you’re trying to get something back.” She watched him closely. “Which one is it?”
Travis couldn’t help himself. His gaze found its way back to Ruby and Chance. “What if I said it was both?”
“Well then.” Honey set the bottle of Glen Fiddich on the bar and stepped back. “You might as well drink the whole damn thing, because you’re screwed.” She paused. “A word of advice?”
