Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 94687 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94687 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
“Well, I’m glad it didn’t work. What would you like to drink?”
“What are you drinking?”
“Brown Eyed Girl bourbon,” he said, moving a little closer to me as he tried to catch the bartender’s eye. He smelled good—woodsy and clean—like a combination of autumn and spring. “I’d never had it before, but the bartender recommended it. It’s made in Michigan, I guess.”
I nodded. “Yes, it’s made in Detroit. My sister Chloe is engaged to the guy who started that distillery—his name is Oliver. They’re opening one up here at Cloverleigh too.”
“Oh yeah? That’s cool. I like it a lot. In fact, I’ll have another. Want one?”
“Sure.” I crossed my legs, clasping my hands around my bare knee. “So what did you do today?”
“Slave labor for my sister,” he answered, stealing a glimpse at my hemline.
I smiled. “At her house?”
“Yeah. Josh had to work today, so she asked me to come over and move some furniture, which turned into ripping up carpet, running errands, and painting a bedroom.”
“Wow. That’s a lot of labor. You get a union break?”
“One.” A smile crept onto his full lips. “During which I spent a hundred dollars on lemonade.”
“What?”
“These two little girls across the street were having a lemonade stand for charity, and they didn’t have any customers. So I gave them a hundred bucks.”
I burst out laughing. “They must have been totally shocked. You’ll probably see them out there again tomorrow, hoping you come back.”
He chuckled. “Probably. They reminded me of Sadie when she was little.”
I shook my head. “Hard to believe she’s getting married in two days, isn’t it?”
“Yes. I still can’t wrap my head around it. Married.” He looked like he’d just sucked a really sour lemon.
“Is it just Sadie and Josh’s wedding you’re having a hard time with?” I asked, amused. “Or is it marriage in general you dislike?”
“Marriage in general. But hey, if Josh wants to put up with Sadie bossing him around the rest of his life, he can go right ahead.”
I laughed and gave him a gentle nudge in the stomach, which was rock hard. “Oh, come on. They’re in love. Don’t you have any sense of romance?”
“I have a sense of reality. There is no way I could live with another person day and night forever. She would drive me insane, and I would return the favor.”
I was about to argue in favor of true love when we were interrupted by the bartender, an old-timer named Toby.
“Hey, April. What can I get for you guys?” He leaned on the bar in front of us with both hands and smiled.
“Hi, Toby. I’d like you to meet my old friend Tyler Shaw.”
Toby’s grin widened as he shook Tyler’s hand. “I wondered if that was you. ‘The Rifle,’ right? Damn, you could throw a fastball.” He whistled through his teeth. “Had to be, what, like ninety-seven miles per hour?”
“Something like that,” Tyler said. “Nice to meet you.”
“And that curveball. What a weapon that was. Nobody knew what to do with it.” Toby shook his head. “Shame what happened to your arm. You ever figure out what it was?”
Tyler stiffened. “Uh, no.”
“I was watching that World Series game. It was the damndest thing. I kept thinking to myself, ‘I know how good he is. Why can’t he just relax and throw the ball?’”
Next to me, so close I could sense it, tension continued to fill Tyler’s long, muscular frame. His jaw was clenched tight.
“Hey, Toby, can we get a couple glasses of Brown Eyed Girl bourbon on the rocks?” I asked, instinctively placing a hand on Tyler’s lower back.
“Sure thing, April.” He smiled at Tyler. “Nice meeting you, man. Hey, keep throwing. Maybe it’ll come back someday.”
Tyler swallowed and nodded curtly.
Once Toby’s back was turned, I looked up at Tyler. Rubbed his back a little. “Sorry about that.”
“Not your fault.”
“But I could tell it made you uncomfortable. I shouldn’t have introduced you.”
He shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. I’m used to it.”
Taking my hand off him, I decided to change the subject. “So you’re still living in San Diego, huh? You like it out there?”
“Yeah.”
“Do you live on the beach?”
“Not far. I also have a cabin in the San Bernardino Mountains on Lake Arrowhead. I spend a lot of time there.”
“I bet it’s beautiful. Do you . . . do you live alone?”
He nodded. “I like living alone. It suits me.”
“Why?”
“My sister says it’s because I’m a grumpy old man.” A hint of a crooked grin appeared. “I say I just like solitude.”
“What do you like about it?”
“Everything. I like silence in the morning and the couch to myself at night. I don’t like sharing covers or the Netflix remote. I also drink from the carton and leave the cap off the toothpaste.”
I wrinkled my nose. “That last one’s a deal breaker. We can definitely never be roommates.”