HER: Romance books aren’t porn.
HIM: So why do you hide them from your dad?
HER: Because he turned purple when he saw the cover of my last one. I’m saving him from having a heart attack.
HIM: How about a bet? If you can show the romance book to your dad without blushing, I’ll read it with you.
HER: I don’t bet.
HIM: Bawk. Bawk. Bawk.
PRESENT DAY
I shouldered and elbowed a paththrough the Saturday night throng, propelling Maisey with me before she could back out. The throng of people meant she was practically pressed up against me, and the scent of her washed over me. She smelled light and airy, as always, like the water lilies on the pond near our childhood homes. A smell I would forever associate with comfort. With home and acceptance and friendship.
Next to Maisey was where I always felt settled. At peace.
The two of us were more than friends and neighbors who’d seen each other through tough times. We were all but family.
And tonight, my job as her family was to ensure she let loose and hadsome fun that didn’t involve a book.She wasn’t escaping Frank’s without a few drinks and some laughter.
While the rest of Swift Rivers had traded its rough edges for a bit of shine, Frank’s had stayed true to its roots as a hometown dive, where everyone knew each other and nobody minded the scuffs on the floor. The river-rock walls and oak-beamed ceiling carried the weight of a thousand stories, and the hand-carved chairs and nicked-up tables had seen generations of laughter, spilled drinks, and long nights. Aside from the modern touches—some updated wiring, a tin-tile backsplash that caught the light, and a few TVs humming in the corners—Frank’s was still the heart of the town’s nightlife.
“I come delivering your pinch hitter, ladies,” I said to her friends as we made it to the cowhide-covered stools we’d commandeered at the back of the bar.
Fallon rose and hugged her friend.
The two women were as different as night and day. With a vivacious attitude and flashing hazel eyes, Fallon was a striking blonde who commanded a room just by walking into it. She was a lightning bolt, while Maisey was the rolling thunder that accompanied it. Maisey’s brown-haired beauty snuck up on you, slowly surrounding you and lingering in ways that a sudden burst of light never could.
The women had been friends for as long as I’d known Maisey, helping each other through traumas that teenagers and young adults should never have to go through. Or at least helping each other as much as two independent people would allow anyone to help them.
“We had a bet, Wife, and you’re altering the terms with this last-minute team change,” Parker said, eyeing Fallon with a smirk. Even though he was retired, the dark-haired former Navy SEAL—with his broad shoulders and calm disposition—still had a look that screamed special forces. Sweeney, his mammoth-sized business partner sitting a couple of stools down, had the same unmistakable vibe.
Fallon stuck her tongue out at her husband. “You’re just afraid I’ll win.”
“Let them bring in Maisey. The sweet little thing only adds to the challenge,” Sweeney said, winking at the woman standing next to me and patting the empty stool on his far side. “I call dibs on her sitting next to me. It’s been far too long since her sunshiny light has graced me with its beautiful presence.”
It was far from the first time the black-haired, dark-skinned Hulk had flirted with Maisey in my presence. I swore, he almost made a game of it, each time hoping it would be the time she took a bite, so I wasn’t sure why his words brought a bad taste to my mouth tonight.
I glanced down at Maisey to see a blush coating her cheeks. Her yellow sundress was glimmering around her like sunrays, and the ethereal glow turned her into exactly the magnificent, avenging angel I’d always considered her to be. Strong and brave and ready to champion others. Like a fierce blow to the chest, it hit me just how right Sweeney was. She was one of the most stunning women I’d ever met, more so because her beauty radiated from the inside out.
“She’s fine right here,” I growled, practically shoving her onto a stool next to the one I’d been sitting on all night.
“I guess I can’t really complain about the change in players,” Parker said with a heated look directed at his wife. “Either way the cards fall, I’ll still be the luckiest man here tonight.”
Sweeney choked on his beer, and the woman sitting between him and Parker laughed.
Fallon’s hotel manager, Andie, was always a bit too buttoned up for my taste—too tailored, too precise, too everything. Her deep-copper hair was always twisted into a tidy bun, and she clung to business attire like it was armor. Even on a Saturday night, she’d shown up in tailored gray pants and a sky-blue silk blouse, both so crisp they looked fresh from the dry-cleaning bag. Yet somehow, that prim-and-polished image had the men under my command lining up to ask her out. As far as I knew, she hadn’t said yes to any of them, or anyone else, since she’d moved to Rivers.
“What can I get you, Maise?” I asked as Dee, the bartender, headed in our direction.
“Just iced tea, please.”
“No. Absolutely not,” I said, shaking my head. “You just worked an obscene number of days in a row. You need to blow off some steam.”
“I might have to go in tomorrow, so I need a clear head.”
Irritation with Meredith filled me. After three years, she still had Maisey rotating around departments, covering all the empty holes and gaps. But the one time I’d told Maisey she was being taken advantage of again, she’d bit my head off and told me to mind my own business.