Chapter 37
FISHER
“I feel bad for leaving your parents.” Ebba raises her voice to be heard above the din of the country bar. “Maybe we should go back?”
I lead her through the crowded bar, hoping and praying for an empty table. It seems everyone in this town has come to Booze I’m hauling your ass outta here.”
She smiles up at him, batting her eyes. “I’d like to see you try.”
His shoulders droop and he mutters, “Fuck,” under his breath. Louder, he reminds her, “I’m keeping an eye on you.”
He stalks away and the girl shakes her head, her cheeks pink.
“She likes him,” Ebba mouths.
“He seems overprotective,” I whisper back.
“What was that about?” Another one of the girls at the table asks.
The girl shakes her head. “No idea. He’s always a moody prick.”
Another guy scoffs. “Trust me, we all know he’s a broody bastard but why does he care that you’re here underage. We’re all underage.”
“Don’t say that so loud,” the first guy says.
“Please, this is as small of a town as you get. You don’t think Marsha doesn’t know we’re underage?” He gestures to the bar.
“I still don’t understand why he cares so much what you’re up to,” the girl says to the one who was being reprimanded.
“Maybe he thinks I’m going to start more drama between our families,” she replies softly, lowering her head.
Ebba grabs my hand, and we turn our attention away from the table before we get caught.
“This smalltown drama is going to feed my imagination for ages,” she laughs softly. “This is amazing.”
The music gets louder, and a large group of people head for the dancefloor.
“Have you ever line danced?” I ask her.
She shakes her head. “Can’t say I have.”
“Want to learn?”
She raises her brows. “You know how to line dance?”
“I live in Texas, baby. I know how to line dance.”
I offer her my hand, and she takes it with a nervous frown.
I pick a spot out of the way, so we don’t disturb the dancers that clearly know what they’re doing.
I go over the steps, showing her and guiding her through them.
Ebba’s always been a quick learner, plus she was a dancer, so she picks up on it quickly and her pleased smile means everything to me.
All I want to do is make this woman smile every day of her life.
After another two dances we head back to our table and finish off our beers. I signal our waitress and order us each another along with water. I need to keep my girl hydrated.
“This is so fun.” Ebba sweeps her curls over one shoulder. “I’m glad we came here.”
“Yeah?” I pull the collar of my shirt away from my chest, fanning myself a little with the fabric. With all these people, it’s fucking hot in here. It seems like the majority of the town decided to pack these walls to ring in the new year.
“Yeah, this is fun.” The waitress appears with our fresh beers and ice water. “Oh, thank you so much.” Ebba reaches for the water.
“Y’all want an appetizer or anything yet?”
“Your jalapeno cheese bites would be great.” I’ve seen Ebba eyeing them non-stop on the menu.
“I’ll get those right in,” she says in a cheery tone and heads off.
“You hate spicy foods.” Ebba eyes me speculatively.
“But you don’t.” I grab my beer, taking a sip. “Besides, I can handle some spice.”
“You might be able to handle it, but it doesn’t mean you like it,” she quips.
“Touché.”
The music cuts out when the next song ends, and a girl walks onto the stage. Her brown hair hangs in loose waves as she walks up to the microphone with a guitar slung around her body.
“Hey, y’all. I see some unfamiliar faces here tonight, so for those of you that don’t know I’m Emma and I’m gonna play a few songs for y’all tonight.
Are you having a good New Year’s Eve so far?
” A raucous of cheers rings out. “Good. I’m glad to hear it.
I hope y’all enjoy my little set here tonight and thank you for letting me perform for you. ”
She steps back and clears her throat before dragging a stool over to the mic. Once she lowers the mic stand, she sits down and situates her guitar. She strums a few chords and begins to sing.
“Holy shit,” Ebba gasps. “She’s great.”
She’s clearly talented, too talented to only be performing in a bar.
She smiles as she sings, like this right here is the thing that makes her happiest. The guy from earlier that confronted the table beside us watches her with a few other guys.
He bobs his head along to the music. For a second I think maybe they’re together, but I quickly realize there’s too much resemblance between the two and they’re more likely related in some way.
But that social media page about siblings or dating exists for a reason, so what do I know.
“Here’s those jalapeno bites and some extra napkins for y’all.” The waitress sets the basket in between us. “Anything else I can get ya right now?”
“No, we’re good. Thank you so much,” Ebba says, already reaching for one of the bites. Dipping it in the sauce, she pops it into her mouth. Her eyes close and she moans softly. “Oh, that’s fantastic.”
The waitress chuckles. “Everything is made in house from scratch.”
“I can tell,” she says, chewing. “Are you going to have any?” she asks me after our waitress has left.
I shake my head. “Like you said, I don’t care for spice. I got them for you.”
She laughs, dipping another. “Why am I not surprised?”
The girl on stage finishes her few songs and another guy hops on to perform.
When midnight comes, Ebba and I are back on the dancefloor. People pop confetti and the colorful pieces of paper swirl around us.
“Happy New Year, Fisher.”
“Happy New Year, Ebba.”
She wraps her hands around the back of my neck, tugging me down to meet her waiting mouth.
I send out a silent wish to the universe that I get to be the man to kiss her for the rest of her New Year’s Eve midnights.