Chapter Twenty-Eight
Anson
W hiskey Joe’s sits just off the island—a sprawling country bar with a wide wooden stage and the smells of grilled steak and fried catfish hanging thick in the humid air. It’s the kind of place where the music is loud, the beer is cold, and the dance floor is always full.
I lead Tabby inside, and we make our way through the bar, passing tables packed with people drinking and laughing, the wooden floor vibrating under our feet as a new song kicks on.
Tonight, we’re all here to celebrate our friend Brew’s birthday. He owns the bar, and as the general manager, Audrey took it upon herself to arrange for one of his favorite bands to play and had the private section roped off for us. The entire crew is already seated when Tabby and I arrive.
Last night was amazing, even better than the night I’d spent in the RV. I liked waking up with her in my arms in my big, comfortable bed.
Tabby lets go of my hand and heads for the chair next to Avie. She’s in a pair of tight jeans and a black top that shows just enough skin to make me consider skipping this whole thing and finding a dark corner for just the two of us.
She catches me staring and smirks as she takes a seat. I glance to the side as the sound of live music begins, the twang of a steel guitar cutting through the laughter and chatter of the crowd.
“You made it!”
A giant hand slaps me on the back, nearly knocking the breath out of me. I turn to see Brew with a whiskey in his other hand.
“Like I’d miss a party,” I say.
He laughs as his eyes look to the table and land on Tabby. “And who’s that?”
“Tabby,” I say as her eyes meet mine again, and she smiles.
“I haven’t seen her around. She an island bunny?” he asks just as Sebastian walks up to us.
“Fuck no!” I snap, and Brew’s eyes widen.
Sebastian clasps my shoulders. “Our boy here has gone and got himself a girlfriend,” he says.
“She’s not a girlfriend,” I say instinctively, but then amend, “I mean, I don’t know exactly what we are. It’s not like we’ve had a discussion.”
Brew lets out a low whistle. “Damn, I never thought I’d see the day.”
“Me neither,” I say.
“What about you, old man?” Sebastian asks Brew. “I know you’ve said that your lifestyle doesn’t really work for a relationship, but if this asshole can find someone to put up with him—”
“Watch it,” I snap, then turn to Brew. “But he has a point. You’re not getting any younger. What are you, forty now?” I tease.
“I’m thirty-seven,” he states. “And I’m a perfectly content single man, thank you very much. I’m married to my businesses.”
Brew, also known as Brewster Cartwright III, is the grandson of Brewster Cartwright Sr.—the billionaire CEO of Cartwright Motorsports and owner of Carolina Automotive LLC. They own over a dozen speedways nationwide and are heavily involved in stock car racing. Brew and his father, Brewster Jr., work for the family empire. Brew opened this bar outside his hometown of Sandcastle Cove as a small side venture several years ago and it’s grown to the lucrative establishment it is today.
Sebastian wrinkles his nose. “That doesn’t sound nearly as much fun as curling up with a beautiful woman every night.”
Ain’t that the damn truth?
“Who said I don’t?” Brew says, then adds, “At least every other night. Just not the same beautiful woman.”
Sebastian looks at me and shakes his head. “He has no idea what’s coming.”
Like I know what the hell I’m doing.
Audrey appears. “Y’all hungry? I’ve got the kitchen rolling out something special tonight for the big guy—steak and frites.”
“Sounds good,” I say as I hurry away from the awkward conversation to join Tabby at the table.
“Look who finally showed up!” Amiya says as I take the seat across from Eden.
“Traffic,” I quip.
She snorts. “You live, like, ten minutes away.”
I shrug. “What can I say? Took my time.” I shoot a slow grin at Tabby.
Tabby’s cheeks turn the sexiest shade of red.
Amiya barks out a laugh. “Damn, I like the way you two pregame.”
We settle in at the table, and the conversation flows easily as large platters are brought over and placed in the center. We dive into the food, and it is absolutely delicious. The steak is cooked to perfection, and the fries are crispy, topped with Parmesan and garlic salt.
I sneak a fry off Tabby’s plate, and she smacks my hand.
“Just making sure yours tastes as good as mine,” I say as I chew it slowly.
She shakes her head, but doesn’t argue when I steal another.
I wave our server down and order her a glass of wine and a beer for myself.
“I should probably call to check in,” Eden says.
Wade looks at her, his eyes soft. “Baby, you called fifteen minutes ago, and everything was fine,” he replies, and it’s strange to hear his voice so soothing.
“Is everything okay?” Tabby asks.
Eden glances over at her. “Yeah, it’s just that this is the first time we’ve been out since Mina was born, and I’m a little nervous.”
“She’s with Sabel and Ida Mae. Trust me, this isn’t their first rodeo. Those women have raised a village of children between the two of them,” Lennon assures her.
“I know. I’m being silly,” she says.
“No, you’re being a new mother. The first time I left Leia with a sitter, I got myself so worked up that I vomited before we even made it to dinner,” Avie tells her.
“Yeah, if it makes you feel better, I’m sure they wouldn’t care if you called a dozen times,” Amiya says, and Eden gives her a grateful smile.
Amiya turns her attention to me. “So, I heard you went and bought yourself a house.”
I nod. “I sure did.”
“Ah, our boy is growing up,” she bellows, and I just shake my head. “And what about you, Tabby? Have you thought about what’s next for you?”
Tabby shrugs. “I’m just focused on the present moment, embracing the here and now without worrying too much about the future, letting life guide me wherever it chooses to take me next, without resistance.”
“That’s a refreshing perspective,” Amiya says, surprising me. She is usually the no-nonsense, ballbusting member of this motley crew.
“Mom and Dad would be furious. They were always focused on me conforming to their expectations and following the path they had laid out for me. That’s no way to live or work—being trapped in someone else’s vision of who you should be. I want to explore a new path. The best version of myself comes from my heart, so now, I am allowing it to lead me,” Tabby explains.
“I learned that lesson the hard way. I tried to force my life in a direction that I believed I was supposed to go, and it turned out to be a disaster. When everything fell apart and I found myself here, it became the best thing that had ever happened to me and to Leia. I’d lost five years because I was too stubborn to let go of my plan,” Avie says.
“Same here,” Eden adds. “I dedicated my entire life to a dream, and when that dream was ripped away from me, I thought my chance at happiness was lost forever. But life had a bigger, better plan for me.”
“Well, shit, I guess the same goes for me. I followed my bestie here to make sure she and baby girl were going to be okay, and the island worked its magic on me too. Now, I curl up with a big, grumpy sailor every night, and I couldn’t be happier,” Amiya says as she winks at Lennon.
“Oh, I like that theory! The idea that the island has some sort of mystical powers would make for a great story,” I say.
“Right? Maybe you should write one. I bet Sabel could provide you with a lot of material. That woman knows the island’s secrets. Honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised if we found a cauldron and a crystal ball in her basement,” Avie replies, and everyone laughs.
“Sabel is a witch?” Eden gasps.
“Yeah, but she’s a good witch, like Glinda from The Wizard of Oz or that quirky teenage witch that Melissa Joan Hart played on TV,” Amiya explains.
“Sabrina,” Eden says.
Amiya jabs a fork in the air, pointing at her. “That’s the one! I always preferred her surly old cat.”
I’m enjoying how well Tabby fits in with the other girls. “I’m going to need another beer if I’m expected to follow this conversation about life paths and witches,” I say, and Lennon agrees just as the music changes.
A familiar beat rolls through the bar, and I grin as I recognize the song.
“But first,” I say, standing and holding out a hand, “you’re gonna dance with me.”
Tabby raises an eyebrow. “I am?”
“Oh, absolutely.” I step closer, lowering my voice. “C’mon, Trouble. Let me show you how it’s done.”
She eyes me for a second, like she’s considering telling me no, but then she takes my hand.
I lead her to the dance floor, where couples are already two-stepping and spinning, the energy electric. The second I pull her in, settling a hand on her waist, I feel it—that click—like we’ve been doing this for years.
“All right,” I murmur, guiding her into the steps, “let’s see what you’ve got.”
To my surprise, she moves fluidly, matching my rhythm, like she’s done this before.
I tilt my head. “You’ve danced like this before.”
She grins. “Maybe.”
I spin her once, then pull her back in. “You’re just full of surprises, city girl.”
I chuckle, tightening my hold just enough to make her notice.
The music shifts to something slower, and I don’t let her go. I pull her in, my hand splaying wide across her lower back. She twines her arms around my shoulders and looks up at me with those sharp, knowing eyes.
I brush a strand of hair away from her face. “I like you—you know that?”
She inhales, just a slight hitch of breath, but I catch it.
We keep moving leisurely, the world around us fading into the background. It’s just me and her, and for the first time in a long time, I’m not thinking about anything else.
Just her.
The song ends, but I don’t step away. Neither does she.
Her fingers curling around with the ends of my hair, her body still warm against mine.
She smirks. “I think I might actually like you.”
I lean down so that our noses almost touch. “You sure about that?”
Her eyes flick to my lips. “Getting there.”
I shift even closer. “Want me to help you decide?”
Her smile is slow, wicked. “You think you can?”
“I know I can,” I whisper against her ear.
“You’re awfully confident.”
I sweep my thumb over her hip. “Only when I’m right.”
She laughs, shaking her head, but she doesn’t move away.
“Truth or dare?” she asks.
I raise a brow at her. “Truth.”
“Tell me something I don’t know about you.”
I dip my head and stare her straight in the eyes when I reply, “I don’t want to just be your friend.”
She gasps. And I know, in this moment, I have her.
Tabitha Harmony might be the best challenge I’ve ever taken on.
The band starts again, and everyone is dancing and laughing around us. The music is pulsating, and bodies are vibrating, but it’s like the two of us are suspended in slow motion. The brush of her hair against my shirt. The way her breath feathers over my cheek as we stand nose to nose, our eyes boring into one another. The unshed tears clinging to her lashes and refusing to let go.
And for once in my life, I know beyond a doubt that I want to fight for something more.