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“I do love vegetables, but a burger sounds great, medium with bacon if you’ve got it.”
Now, it wasn’t a grin but a full out smile. “Yeah, you’re going to fit in real nice around here.”
I was on my second beer when my burger was dropped off. Lettuce and tomato, red onion, crispy bacon, melted cheese, a perfectly toasted bun. “Did you make this?” I asked.
“I did.”
“So you’re both the cook and the bartender.”
“When it’s late, and we aren’t so busy, yeah.”
He waited for me to take a bite; my eyes rolled into the back of my head. “This is fantastic.”
“It’s all in the patty: short ribs, sirloin and a little brisket.”
“You grind your own meat?”
“Yeah.”
I nodded, took another bite of my burger. “So good.”
Someone called him. He turned from me, started away and said from over his shoulder. “Enjoy it.”
I was embarrassed to say I wolfed the burger, but I hadn’t eaten since that morning. I nursed my beer, thinking the liquid courage would help me scare off the raccoons that were taking up residence in my cabin. The realtor had disclosed that the cabin had sat empty, but I didn’t understand why. From the pictures, it was beautiful, but it was the location that sold me. Nothing but open space and mountains, just like my younger self had wanted.
“Where is he, Liam?”
I glanced over to see the woman from the jukebox. She looked pissed, but it was the change in Liam that fascinated me. He looked, well, there was nothing, he was stoic, which considering the easy friendliness I’d been gifted with, clearly, there was a story there.
“You gotta stop this, Monica.”
“No, I don’t. Just tell me where he is.”
“If he wanted you to know, he’d tell you. You know him. He finds out you were here tonight; he’s going to be pissed.”
“We were good once,” she whispered.
“You were never really together,” Liam countered.
She didn’t like that, swiping her hand across the bar; a glass went flying and shattered against the wall.
“Get the fuck out, Monica. Now!” Liam roared.
“He can’t avoid me forever.”
“That didn’t get you, did it?” Liam’s stride was long as he approached. “You’re not hurt?”
“I’m fine.”
He exhaled. “I’m sorry about that.”
It wasn’t my business, but it wasn’t his fault either. “It wasn’t you who sent that glass flying.”
“No.” He looked at my empty plate, a grin replacing the frown. “Good, right?”
“Delicious.”
“It’s on the house.”
