CHAPTER 27
Walker
HOPE HARBOR TOWN CHAT
FLETCHER: Don’t forget the Daffodil Festival kicks off tomorrow! Can’t wait to see everyone there.
ELI: I’m heading to Rosie’s. Anyone want to meetme there?
BABS: It’s awfully last minute.
STEW: Can’t have a beer with a New York traitor.
ELI: I DON’T EVEN PLAY FOR THEM ANYMORE!
STEW: Once a traitor, always a traitor.
TALLY: I’ll be right there Eli! I’m happy to drink a beer with you. I’ll even buy you one.
FLETCHER: That’s the neighborly spirit!
* * *
I can’t believe I’m doing this. I didn’t even drive here. It’s only a few hundred feet past the end of our driveway, but still, I always take my truck. Not tonight, though.
Tonight, I walked here because she walked here. And if she’s walking, I’m walking.
The air feels heavy, the April dew is thick against my skin, and the frogs cryout in a warning. It feels like rain. Fucking great. It’ll probably pour on my walk back home.
With every stomp of my boots against the gravel, I get more annoyed with myself. Why am I following her? She let me off the hook. She said we can be friends. We had an honest conversation, and now I can move on.
Yes, I tell myself, I’m just coming here tonight because I want a beer and to listen to some music.
Doesn’t matter that I have an entire case of my favorite beer back at the house and I can’t stand the seasonal ales that Rosie serves. Or that the music isn’t my style.
The moment I open the door to the oversized-barn-turned-brewery, the sound of some wannabe Dave Matthews guitarist strumming loudly over the quiet din of excited conversation makes me want to turn back around.
I almost do.
But then a hand pushes me forward. “Walker! You got my text.”
It’s Eli. He continues to walk us toward the bar, right smack in the center of the room. If I was going to stay here, which I’m not, I’d find a shadowed corner.
“Huh?”
I don’t know what he’s talking about because I blocked almost everyone other than my sister and Gail. And Tally.
Eli sets his elbow against the bar and angles toward me. “Glad you decided to come tonight. The guys and I have been hoping we’d see you here since last year.”
My brows fold in on themselves. “Why?” It’s a serious question. Why in God’s name would anyone want to hang out with me? Since I moved here, I’ve done everything in my power to actively avoid becoming part of this town.
“Well, mainly because Fletch has a kid and you don’t. And most of the guys on the fire department are married. And Stew smells like cheese.”
I’m sure my facial expression says what I’m thinking: What the fuck?
Eli remains unbothered. “I’m just kidding.
” He turns and faces the crowd. “Honestly, most of the guys I played hockey with don’t talk to me anymore since I got hurt and retired.
And coming home and starting over feels more like a failure than I’d like to admit.
For some reason, you seem like someone who gets that.
” He raises his eyebrows, like he’s challenging me to disagree.
I let out a long sigh. “Can we drink and not talk?”
Eli’s face lights up. “First round’s on you.”
I huff a chuckle and nod toward Rosie, who is serving a growing crowd.
The band quiets and it gets a little louder in the bar as people start to chat during the break.
“Hello, guys. What can I get you?” Rosie sets napkins down in front of us, and I order a whiskey for myself and a blueberry beer for Eli. It’s one of the brewery’s specialties. I imagine Tally loves it.
Suddenly I’m bothered that I don’t know what she normally drinks.
That I don’t really know much about her at all, except that she can bake one hell of a cupcake, she has an endless supply of different floral-smelling shampoos that I’m constantly stealing, her curves look incredible beneath her multicolored spandex, and she enjoys running every morning.
I also know that right before she smiles she bites her lip like she’s not sure if she should show anyone that she’s momentarily happy.
It makes me want to punch something because Tally has the kind of smile that should be permanently on display.
I know the way she tastes. The little sounds she makes when she’s surprised. And angry. And turned on.
Fuck, I guess I know a lot about her.
“What does Tally order?” The words stumble out of my mouth as Rosie sets my whiskey in front of me.
She lets out an amused snort, nodding behind me. “Why don’t you ask her yourself?”
Shit. My elbows fall against the bar and my shoulders slump.
“Don’t go shy on me now, Cowboy,” Tally mumbles so quietly only I can hear her. Then she’s pushing in between Eli and me. “Gimme a shot,” she says louder to Rosie.
“Please. The word is please,” Rosie shoots back.
Tally bats her eyelashes. “Boys, do you want to do a shot with me? My bestie owns the bar, so we can have whatever we want.”
“That’s not how this works,” Rosie grumbles, though she gets out three shot glasses and then reaches for a bottle of Fireball.
That answers one question. Of course she drinks Fireball. She’s twenty-six.
“None for me. We’ve got the festival tomorrow,” I remind her.
Tally bites on her lip before glancing up at me with a grin. “Just one. I promise.”
She turns away from me as Eli grabs his drink and they tap glasses before shooting them back while Penny comes up and sits on the other side of Eli.
“Walker, did you hear Tally’s great idea?” Penny asks.
“Hush, you,” Tally tosses at her in the same way she throws grenades at me. Whatever this idea is, she doesn’t want me to know.
Intrigued, I angle myself so my body is flush against Tally’s side. Anyone who walked in would assume we were a couple. Especially if I wrapped my free arm around her middle and pulled her between my thighs.
But I don’t. I turn to address Penny instead. “I didn’t. Care to share?”
“She’s going to sell her baked goods at the farmers market to help raise money for the cottages. The Liberty Ladies were even angling for her to open her own bakery.”
I can’t hide my surprise that Tally would consider staying in Hope Harbor.
“It’s a dumb idea,” Tally says with a shake of her head. “I’ll never raise enough money to pay for help.”
Penny’s jaw drops. “Really? But we only have, like, a month to get everything done before the Hall event, right?”
Everyone’s staring at me now, like I’m the idiot here. “I’ve got it handled.”
Tally rolls her eyes and turns away from me to face Rosie. “Can I have another shot?”
Eli steps closer. “If you need help on the farm, I’d be happy to pitch in.”
Tally presses her hand to Eli’s chest, staring up at him with stars in her damn eyes. “That’s very sweet, Eli.” Then she looks back toward me and sighs. “But you’ll have to ask Walker. He’s in charge.”
Fucking A.
Eli looks to me. “Happy to help, man. We could probably knock out a bunch of stuff in a few days if we get the fire department guys, too.”
“That’s how my bookstore was built,” Penny adds.
“And this brewery,” Rosie says as she pours Tally another shot. “I’m sure a bakery could even be fixed up that way.”
“No,” Tally says in what sounds like sincere annoyance. “We’re not talking about the bakery. This is about the farm.” Her eyes stray my way, and the damn hope in them has my heart racing.
“I’ll let you know,” I say to Eli with a sigh.
Tally lights up like I’ve just promised her the damn moon and then the strum of a guitar has a smile blooming on her lips. “Wanna dance?”
I sip my whiskey as the familiar tune begins, trying like hell not to be drawn to her.
“Oh, ‘Cowboy Like Me,’” Rosie says from the other side of the bar. “Nice one!”
I shake my head as Tally tugs on my belt loop. I like that she’s smiling again, but there’s no way in hell I’m dancing. Least of all to this. “I don’t dance.”
“I do,” Eli says.
My grip tightens on my glass, but I try to keep my composure as the man who I momentarily considered befriending grabs Tally’s hand and pulls her away.
An unfamiliar feeling grips my chest. Still, I can’t look away as Eli’s hand wraps around Tally’s waist and her arms circle his neck. She laughs at something he says as they dance to our song. I can’t believe I’m angry about a Taylor Swift tune. I don’t understand how I even know one.
But I do.
Every single lyric.
“They look hot together,” Rosie says from behind the bar.
My jaw clicks.
“She always had a crush on him when we were in high school,” Penny continues, reminding me that Eli is the more appropriate choice for Tally.
They’re around the same age, and he’s a happy guy.
Always smiling. A much better match for my wildflower girl than the grumpy old asshole who barely strings two words together despite the woman trying day and night to just have a conversation.
But that’s just the thing: She’s my wildflower girl.
“Who didn’t?” Rosie adds.
My fists clench.
“I’m sure he’ll keep her smiling tonight,” Penny adds.
Her words aren’t what set me off. It’s all of it.
Being in this bar. The talking. And the final straw is watching Tally smile at someone who isn’t me.
I can’t handle watching her in Eli’s arms when she should be in mine.
As I stalk toward the dance floor, Rosie’s voice carries over the crowd. “Atta boy.”
Somehow, between the time Tally left me in the kitchen and we came here, she changed into another one of her damn floral sundresses.
This one is black with white and yellow flowers on it and wraps across her chest, exposing the swell of those pretty tits.
There’s a frilly thing going on with the sleeves that makes her seem daintier than she is.
Same with the skirt, which falls to the floor, a pair of black cowboy boots peeking out below the hem.
“Tally,” I grind out as I reach for her elbow, pulling her back toward my chest and away from Eli’s.
The man holds up his hands in surrender. Idiot. Who gives up that easily? But when I meet his eyes, prepared to give him a death glare, Eli’s smiling.