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“This is gonna be good.”
“You have no idea.” I drank deeply.
The beer was higher octane than I was used to, and I was already feeling loose. He wanted a story, so he was going to get one. The best one of my life—so far.
Regardless, I was on this ride until the end. Win, lose or Ruby.
Fourteen
After taking a shower and then tossing and turning for three hours, I couldn’t stand myself any longer.
Being alone in bed wasn’t what I wanted right now. And that royally pissed me off.
My dreams hadn’t helped on that score. In them, I was rolling around with a certain long-haired handyman. There were no tears this time, just a whole lot of sweat and screaming.
Enough that I woke up shaking and half a minute from taking the edge off on my own.
A second cold shower later, I was heading out the door to go to my workshop. If I couldn’t sleep, then at least I could work.
Always my mantra.
With Jimmy’s memorial and the whole house and barn remodel, I was way behind on the Phantom project. Gage had been doing the build and didn’t need any new parts from me yet, but I didn’t like leaving it all to him.
Even better, it was a Saturday afternoon so no one would be in the shop but me. The nice thing about a small town was the hours we kept.
Beyond that, I really needed to get my beater on the road. There was a shit-ton of rain in the forecast for the rest of the week.
Even so, the lure of my Triumph was too much. Besides, I could finally finish tuning up the engine before I stored her for the winter.
I threw my leg over the seat and the purr of the engine settled my nerves. I had less than two months to get my house in order for my family. And after seeing just how bad Cohen had been, I was even more determined to make sure he had a bomb-ass place to heal up.
I took the long way into town. It was the perfect October day. Warm with just a hint of chill on the air. I was tempted to take a loop around the whole damn lake. Maybe even keep driving and tell the Kramer boys I’d be out of pocket for a week.
Damn responsibilities.
As I turned onto Main, I slowed to a crawl. The only bad part of a pretty day was that it was perfect for shopping. Foot traffic and cars congested Main Street. People lined the sidewalks in front of the various storefronts. Tabitha was doing a brisk business at Sugar Rush with her Halloween and fall confections. The new wine bar that had replaced a small eatery looked to be having a tasting.
I was tempted to go in to find a bottle of wine to calm down some of the chaos in my brain, but in the end, I’d rather have a beer.
After I got some work done.
By the time I finally got to the garage, I was humming for a whole different reason. I parked my bike outside and swung into Brewed Awakening for a coffee. Luckily, it was too busy in there for chitchat. Macy wasn’t on duty, but as usual, her place ran like a top.
I sneaked through the doors that led to the apartments and bypassed the crush of people at the tables and waiting in line for caffeine and sugary treats. The elevator doors opened just as I was trying to escape.
“Shit.”
I really didn’t want to talk to anyone right now.
The tenored, imperfect voice of one Lucky Roberts came out of the elevator with a surprisingly smooth baritone pulling up the rear. The two men stumbled off the elevator singing “Sweet Home Alabama”, of all songs. I almost didn’t recognize Lucky’s drinking buddy.
Deputy Mc…something was looking decidedly un-cop like. Brent? No, I was pretty sure it was Brady. I’d only talked to him in passing a few times.
We took care of the cruisers when they needed a tune-up. Not like there were a whole lot of car crashes in this town. Hot pursuit usually included a duck more than a resident of the Cove.
There were some slurred words and then a third guy hiccupped his way off the elevator, singing very off-key. And there was the third Stooge.
Caleb came teetering off the elevator with his hand wrapped around the neck of a beer bottle like his life depended on it.
