Chapter Two
Wade
I open the door to the brewery after getting Steve in a cab that will take him home. As much of a dick as he was being to the woman at the bar, I knew I would feel terrible if he got in a car and ruined his life—or someone else’s.
I walk back in and see Ava, Luna, Tessa, and their friend all staring at me. The three girls go back to whispering amongst each other, but the other just keeps looking, piercing me with her ocean-like blue eyes. Her pale skin a voluminous brown curls create the most beautiful, doll-like face I’ve ever seen and my heart skips a beat when I get closer and notice the smattering of freckles across her face.
I have to talk to her.
“Hi,” I say simply. Her cheeks redden.
“Hi,” she replies, blush creeping down her neck. Ava breaks away from the conversation.
“Wade, this is Rosie, she’s a history teacher at the school. The guy you just kicked out was her asshole coworker.”
Rosie. The name fits her, and her rosy cheeks, perfectly.
“Ah. Well, I’m sorry you have to deal with him on a daily basis. Those ten minutes were enough to last me a lifetime,” I say with a laugh. She laughs too and I think it might be the most beautiful sound I’ve ever heard.
She brushes a rogue curl behind her ear, and I can’t help but wish it was me doing it.
What the hell is wrong with me? I’ve never felt this kind of instant attraction to anyone before.
“Trust me, it’s not easy. Thanks for taking care of him, he was really ruining my night.”
“Well, we couldn’t have that, could we?” I ask, rounding the bar and grabbing her a fresh cider.
There’s plenty of other people at the bar, but I can’t seem to stay away from here. I see Ava and Luna share another glance and they both come behind the bar as I’m pouring drinks.
“Go talk to her more,” Ava whisper-yells at me. She’s always been nosy, but in the last year it’s really taken another level. Can’t say I mind it now though; I jump at the opportunity to get back to Rosie.
As I round the bar I see Tessa stand and head over to her fiancé, Luke, who is waiting for her at the door with a curling finger and a massive grin on his face. It gives me the perfect chance to slide in next to Rosie.
“Hi,” I say to her again, taking the stool next to her and promptly pulling hers closer to me again. I don’t want her to get the wrong idea. I’m very very interested in her.
“Hi, Wade,” she says, a soft smile lighting up her face. “Is it okay for you to be over here? I don’t want to disrupt your shift any more than I already have.”
“It’s no problem. I think my busybody cousin has it covered.” I gesture to Ava who looks right at home slinging drinks and when she meets my eyes she gives me a wink that tells me everything is going according to her plan.
“How long have you lived in Whiskey Mountain?” Rosie asks, breaking the small silence.
“About three months, but I just started working here last week. Needed some time to fix up my cabin and get settled in.”
Rosie nods. “I know the feeling. I wish I had the time to fix up my place.”
“How long have you lived here?” I ask her, putting the “time to fix up my place” comment in my back pocket—I’ll help her in a heartbeat.
“Just finishing up my first year here. I work at the school—I think Ava mentioned that. I’m actually the head of the history department, which dear old Steve has a problem with. Which is why he was being such an extraordinary ass earlier.”
“Some men are too insecure to see women in positions of power. I used to see it all the time in the Navy,” I say, reaching out to push another loose curl behind her ear. Her cheeks heat at the gesture, and it may be too soon to do something so intimate, but I can’t help myself. I’m drawn to her in a way I can’t explain.
“How long did you serve for?” she asks, crossing her legs. I can’t help but notice as her white and blue pinstripe skirt inches up her thigh and it leaves me wondering what she has on underneath it.
“Fifteen years,” I say, wondering if she’ll get scared off by our age difference. I can tell she’s quite a bit younger than me, but that doesn’t bother me in the slightest. I just want her.
“Oh… wow. So that makes you…” she trails off, clearly not wanting to ask my age.
“Thirty-four,” I say, not breaking eye contact. I want her to know everything about me.
She laughs slightly. “I just turned twenty-five,” she says softly, like it’s something to be embarrassed about.
“Doesn’t bother me a bit, Rosie,” I say, lifting her chin so her beautiful blue eyes meet mine. “I want to know everything about you.”
So she tells me. She tells me about studying history and finishing up her master’s program, about all the teaching jobs she was offered last year and how she decided on Whiskey Mountain High. She tells me about how hard it’s been to be a department head when she’s younger than all of her coworkers, and how hard settling in here has been.
After she finishes, she looks at me with something like embarrassment before whispering, “I want to know everything about you too.”
And so I tell her. I tell her how I joined the Navy at nineteen after being unsatisfied with my college experience and how I rose the ranks to be a commanding officer and all the days, and months, and years I spent out at sea. I choke up a little recounting the losses I saw and the friends that left along the way.
She places a hand on my arm when I tell her about how I knew it was time to get out, I skim over the details before telling her about moving to Whiskey Mountain at Ava’s recommendation, about meeting the guys at the veterans group and starting work here, just for something to keep busy.
“Do you like bartending?” she asks when I drop off, and I’m glad she could tell I’d opened up enough for the moment and asked something simple.
“I do. I like talking to people. You never know who you’re going to meet,” I reply, looking at her with a warm smile. She grins back.
“You guys need anything?” Ava asks from behind the bar.
“Have dinner with me?” I ask Rosie.
“Sure,” she says easily and I can’t get over how natural this feels. How easy it is to be around her, despite only knowing each other for about an hour.
We look over the menu that I’ve already got memorized and order a few plates to share and a refill on our drinks. By the time we’ve devoured our nachos and chicken wings, the sky has darkened and I know the night is coming to an end, but I have no desire to separate from Rosie.
“Want to go for a drive?” I ask her, holding my breath while I wait for her response. I honestly think my entire wellbeing depends on her answer.
“I’d love to,” she says easily.
I throw some bills on the bar, knowing Ava didn’t charge me for anything, but not wanting to be a freeloader. I stand and grab Rosie’s hand, taking notice of how easily her soft, delicate palm fits perfectly within my own rough, calloused one.
She was made for me.