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Nope. She wasn’t wrong about this one. They had chemistry. “I would like that.”
“Good. How about we start tonight? I’m not working tonight so I can take you out to dinner. There’s a great restaurant up at the lodge. It’s got gorgeous views of the pass,” he offered.
It had been a long time since she had enough of a social life that she had two competing events. The idea of spending the evening with a guy who might want to do more than talk to her was tempting, but she was giving friendship a try, too. “I’m sorry. I’m meeting a friend and his boyfriend tonight. I can go tomorrow night. Or if you’re working we could grab some lunch.”
“I’m off all day tomorrow,” he said with a smooth smile. “I would love to see you. I’m going to give you my number and we can meet up whenever you like.”
She handed him her phone.
Her day was looking up.
* * * *
Hale stepped into Trio, an odd anxiety coursing through his veins.
Anxiety itself wasn’t odd. He’d dealt with that all of his life. Since he’d been a kid left on his aunt’s doorstep, his mom choosing to walk away and leave him behind. He’d had the ground beneath him shake more than once since that particular aunt had done the same thing two years later when she’d gotten married and her husband hadn’t wanted a kid with disciplinary issues. Then it was off to the next aunt who’d ended up dying on him and leaving him in the foster care system.
He knew anxiety on many levels, but this was different. This anxiety wasn’t entirely unpleasant.
Maybe he should give it a different name. Wasn’t that what Elisa had said? Life was easier when every emotion was called by its proper name.
Maybe what he was feeling was anticipation.
He glanced around the small bar. He’d been in a hundred bars like this one. Every small town had some version of Trio—a meeting spot with everyday sports bar food where everyone gathered. But there was something special about Trio, and he’d known it from the day he’d walked in.
He belonged here. He—the unique person he was and not simply a paying customer—was welcome here.
“Hey, Hale.” Alexei Markov greeted him. The big Russian ran the bar portion of the bar and grill, but not for long. He was finishing up his degree at Adams State. He’d had a few classes with Van.
Callie Hollister-Wright was apparently working the evening shift. She had a bunch of menus in her hand as she walked to the hostess station. “Hello, Hale. How are things going for you today?”
It might be the easy way he fit in with these people that had made this place special. In other places he felt like either the guy who blended in with the background or the guy who stuck out like a sore thumb. The latter tended to get him in trouble. The former chipped away at his soul. But here, he was seen, and not in a bad way.
“Good. I ran into Alamosa to get the bathroom shipment. You should see the tub I’m installing.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small bag. “And I picked up the heating element for the bread oven. I can head back and fix it if you’ve got time.”
Callie’s eyes closed in obvious relief. “Thank you so much. We’re having to bake in Stella’s extra oven, and running between here and the café in the snow is dangerous. Zane is going to break his neck. You’re a lifesaver. And I totally want to see that bathtub. I know I probably can’t afford one, but it might give me some inspiration for the add-on this spring.”
The Hollister-Wright family was adding on to their small cabin. “You know there are a lot of cabins for sale in this area. You could probably find one without having to go through a reno.”
She shook her head. “Absolutely not. I love that cabin. All it needs is an extra bathroom and some more space. We’ll stay up at Stef’s while you’re working. I can’t wait.”
Neither could he. He loved working here, and it looked like he wouldn’t be hurting for a job anytime soon. It was more fun to work for a community he belonged to. “I’m excited about working with the guys who hand chink the logs. I’m going to learn a lot.”
He’d worked on many different types of buildings. Wherever he and Van went, Van found a bartending job and he got on some sort of construction crew. He’d been building things since he was sixteen and he was still fascinated with the business, but especially with the artistry of working on something unique.
She gestured toward the kitchen. “Feel free to grab a plate back there if you’re hungry. Zane made some amazing chili.”
