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“You’re goingto love this place,” Avery says as she opens the front door to The Mason Jar. I try not to think about the man in Vegas who bore that name. It’s hard not to since he stars in most of my dreams. Also, he’s the image I see when I’m alone in the bathroom with my vibrator.
Dammit. I need to stop thinking about him. Usually, I can keep my mind focused on what is going on in my life, but ideas about Mason have plagued me for weeks. I can’t forget the feel of his callused fingers as they slipped inside of me, or the way he looked at me. I know there’s a good chance he doesn’t even remember me, but that doesn’t matter. He gave me one of the best nights of my life, and I will always cherish it.
Still, thinking about him and my vibrator in public, with my loud sister and my two kids, is such a big NO.
As the hostess shows us to the booth, Callie chooses to sit with her aunt, and Sammy, as usual, decides to sit by me. I take in the interior of the building. From what Avery said, this place was once some kind of warehouse. It’s massive, but it’s packed even on a Thursday afternoon. It has an industrial feel to it, with steel siding on the wall that separates the line of booths, and an open ceiling with the air ducts exposed. The scent of cumin, tomato, garlic, and paprika fill the air and my mouth starts watering.
“I would suggest the brisket,” Avery says, looking at me. She knows I love barbecue brisket.
“I want the pulled pork,” Callie says, just to be contrary. If I said I didn’t want to murder her, she would probably challenge me just so she disagreed.
I know she’s still mad about the move, and I get it. Moving away from all of your friends isn’t fun. I couldn’t turn down the job, though. The opportunity to work for Travis Fillmore and Nancy Howard was too good to pass up. The raise in pay, plus the cheap rental—a house Nancy flipped from what I understand—gives us a more solid foundation.
Nine-year-olds don’t care about that.
“I want ribs.”
I look down at Sammy. At almost six, he’s the spitting image of his father. Those bright eyes, the long lashes, the insanely curly hair.
“Sorry, bud, but they only have Rangeroo Ribs here.”
His eyes widen, and he licks his lips. “Yeah? Well, I want those!”
He shouts his decision, and I’m thankful that it is so packed here. The noise level is pretty loud, so no one seems to notice.
A young, pregnant waitress comes to our table, a smile on her lips. “Avery. How are you doing? I didn’t know you were back in town.”
“Taking a breather from traveling. Liv, this is Jessica. Liv just moved to town. She’s the new office manager for Nancy and Travis.”
Her eyes widen. “Oh, nice. We’re so glad they are opening their office here.”
I smile because I understand small towns. We grew up in one in North Texas. Plus, the military can be like a small town if you think about it. We always lived on base while my husband was alive and everyone knew everyone else. There’s a sense of community.
“I’m happy to be here. This is Sammy and Callie.”
She smiles at Sammy and winks, but with the radar of a mother, she zeroes in on Callie’s expression. She’s wearing one of her dance shirts.
“Do you like dance?”
Callie nods, not really engaging.
“We have an excellent dance studio. My two girls and my son go there. Maria Smith owns it.”
Callie’s eyes widen. “TheMaria Smith?”
I can tell from her tone that this is someone important to her, and I feel like a failure because I don’t know the name.
Jessica nods. “She was born and raised in Juniper, so she opened her studio here.”
“She was on that dance competition show,” Avery says. She has read my expression and knows I’m falling down on the job. Again.
“I’m sure she’ll be able to fit you in. I’ll text her and see if she has space. Is there a type of dance you prefer?”
Callie nods. “Jazz and hip-hop.”
“You’re in luck. My oldest is in the jazz class.” She winks at Callie. “I’ll text Maria to see if there is a spot for you if that’s okay with your mom.”
Callie’s expectant gaze swerves toward me. There’s no way I am about to say no to that look. I smile at Jessica. “Of course.”
