Page 49 of Indigo Ridge (The Edens 1)

I chuckled. “Do you want me to drive instead?”

“No.” She huffed but unlocked the doors.

The five blocks to Willie’s was too short. The inside of her car reminded me of her bed. The moment we pulled into the parking lot, the temperature in the cab spiked. Attraction crackled between us like a spark.

Would I ever come to Willie’s and not picture her in my truck? Probably not.

Winslow parked and was out of the car so fast she practically jogged to the door. Her cheeks were flushed when I caught up.

“Shuffleboard?” I nudged her elbow as I opened the door.

“No.” That pretty flush deepened. “I’m here on official business. And you said it yourself this morning. Not a good thing to repeat. You’re a busy man.”

I said a lot of stupid things.

“Griff.” Willie stood behind the bar, his scowl fixed firmly in place as we walked in.

“Hi, Willie.” Winn didn’t bother taking a seat, and what I’d told her about making nice at the other bars had been forgotten. Or maybe she knew ordering a drink and making pleasantries with Willie would be a waste of time. She launched into her questions about Lily, and when she received a series of grunted nos, she thanked him for his time.

Winn turned, ready to leave, when the door opened and a familiar face walked into the bar.

“Harrison.” My uncle Briggs walked over, his hand extended. “What’s going on, brother? I didn’t know you were coming into town tonight.”

Fuck. My stomach dropped.

Winn looked between the two of us.

“Griffin.” I clapped my hand on his shoulder. “I’m Griffin, Uncle Briggs.”

He studied my face, confusion clouding his eyes. He looked normal in jeans and a red shirt. But he was wearing two different boots, one round toe and the other square. A set of keys dangled from one hand.

“What are you up to?” I asked.

“Thought I’d grab a beer.” His forehead was furrowed, still trying to figure out how I wasn’t my father.

“I’ll buy.” I nodded for Briggs to head to the bar, then faced Winn. “I’m going to stay here with him.”

“Sure.” She looked to my uncle, her eyes softening. “Have a good night, Griff.”

“Bye, Winn.”

As she walked to the door, I joined my uncle at the bar. He called me by my father’s name three times in the hour we sat and sipped a beer. He remembered Willie just fine, but kept giving me strange looks.

“I’d better get home,” I told him. “Mind if I hitch a ride with you? I haven’t seen your place in ages.”

“You were just there last week.”

Huh? “That’s right. My bad.”

I paid Willie, then snatched Briggs’s truck keys. “How about I drive? I didn’t finish my beer.”

“Okay.” He shrugged and led the way to the parking lot where his old Chevy truck waited.

I climbed behind the wheel, cringing at the scent in the cab. There was a coffee tumbler in the cup holder and my guess was that the creamer he’d added had long since curdled.

With the windows rolled down, I drove to the ranch, passing the gravel road that I’d been on earlier today. The place where I’d found Winn’s car. The next turnoff led to the back side of Indigo Ridge, and as we made our way up the mountain foothills, I stole a few glances at Briggs.

He looked older today than I’d ever seen. The skin on his cheeks sagged slightly. The whiskers were white. Briggs was five years older than Dad and had lived his entire life on this ranch.