Chapter seventeen Dallas
Chapter seventeen
Dallas
The sound of the door jostling startles me from staring off into space for the hundredth time today. It’s been two days since Willow went back to D.C., and you’d think she broke up with me and flew halfway across the world with the way it’s hit me.
But that’s the thing—we aren’t in a relationship, and she’s only six hours away, but her life is up there and soon, she’ll be back there permanently.
I knew the reality when I gave in to my attraction toward her. I just never imagined that being without her would hit me this hard.
My pillowcases and sheets still smell like her—warm vanilla and citrus that grabbed hold of my lungs and refused to let go.
I found a piece of her blonde hair on my shirt the other day, and all I could think about is what she looked like on our date with her hair down around her face, and that cherry red lipstick that revealed the siren she truly is.
And when I ran by her house this morning just to check on things and the geese started chasing me in the sand, all I could do was fucking laugh.
Everything reminds me of her in some way, and there’s only one logical conclusion I can arrive at—I’m fucked up over this woman.
“Did you see a ghost?” Parker asks as he strides up to the bar, Grady on his heels. It’s Thursday so the boys are stopping by for lunch, like usual.
“No, just lost in thought.” I turn around, grab the burgers from under the warming lamps, and set them in front of the guys, placing a stack of napkins and a bottle of ketchup on the bar in front of them. “What do you want to drink?”
“The usual,” they say in unison before taking bites of their burgers.
I fill up two glasses with Coke and ice, and set them down next to their plates. “There you go.”
“Fuck, I needed this today.” Grady wipes ketchup from the corner of his mouth. “Mrs. Hansen’s car is giving me trouble, and I haven’t figured out what the hell the problem is yet. It’s been three hours.”
“Well, it’s a dinosaur, so that’s probably why,” Parker mumbles around the bite he just took.
“Be careful about calling cars dinosaurs,” I say, thinking back to when Willow called my Mustang old.
Fuck. I can’t go five minutes without thinking about her.
“I agree.” Grady takes a sip of his Coke. “I wish cars were still made that way. All this new technology is a pain in my ass. Did you know I have to take an entire fender off some cars now to change a fucking battery?”
“That’s ridiculous,” I grumble, only slightly interested in the conversation because the longer I stand here at the bar, the more the mental image of Willow lying on the wooden surface the other night steals my attention.
Fuck, she looked good splayed out on my bar.
Tasted fucking amazing too.
“No, what’s ridiculous is that Dallas has been moping around town for the past two days ever since Willow left, and he’s pretending that no one has noticed,” Parker declares, pulling my attention back to him.
Irritation taps against my temples. “I’m not moping.”
“The fuck you aren’t,” Grady counters. “You look like someone took your favorite toy away.”
Well? He’s not wrong.
“Willow isn’t a toy, asshole.” And that’s the truth. Of course, I’ve enjoyed playing with her in the bedroom, but what’s going on between us is far more than just casual, regardless of what she thinks and what I convinced myself I was capable of.
“So it’s for real then?” Parker questions.
I throw my hands out to the sides. “I don’t have a fucking answer for you, okay? You know as much as I do. She needed to leave the house for Penn to finish the floors, which he’s doing today, so she decided to go back to D.C. to check on her business.”
Parker pops a fry into his mouth. “And what is it that she does?”
“She owns an advertising firm. A fucking successful one.”
Yeah, I might have Googled her last night when I couldn’t stop thinking about her and was wondering what she was up to.
Marshall Advertising earned $565 million dollars last year in revenue, which is more money than most will ever see in their lifetime.
As soon as I saw that number, my stomach dropped.
No wonder Willow is in a rush to go back to her life.
And how the fuck was I thinking I had anything to offer her if she decided to stay in Carrington Cove.
My restaurant does well, but not that well.
I live in an apartment above my restaurant that is fine for a single guy like me, but not somewhere I would want to start a life with someone.
And as far as money goes, the chunk that I do have was enough for a down payment on the Bayshore house, the house that Willow could sell to me if she leaves, and that’s it.
But that means she’d be gone too.
I swear, sometimes I hate the fucking internet.
“Like how successful are we talking?” Grady asks as he leans back in his chair.
“Fucking millions.”
Both of their sets of eyes nearly pop out of their sockets. “Shit.”
“Yeah, so needless to say, she won’t be staying.”
Grady arches a brow at me. “But you want her to?”
I set the rag I was holding down on the bar. “Look, we don’t have to get all touchy feely during lunch, all right? I’m dealing with it.”
Parker scoffs. “Sure, whatever you say. Just make sure you get your head in the game for Saturday.”
Crossing my arms over my chest, I lean against the bar. “Don’t you worry about me. I’d worry more about Barb from your office slowing you down.”
“I’ve given her light roles to play this time. She might think she can still do the wheelbarrow race, but I think we all know that’s not true after she snapped her wrist last year.”
Saturday marks the first day of the Carrington Cove Games, and it’s probably the only thing that has given me even an ounce of distraction since Willow left. Although, she should be back before then, and I hope she makes it because I want her to be a part of my team.
My crew at Catch & Release is ready. We’ve been practicing for the wheelbarrow race, tug of war, and each year, there’s a surprise competition that no one knows details about until the day of. Each team faces off in a tournament-style competition, racking up points based on how they place.
My competitive spirit is alive and well, and I’m ready to bring home the Cove Cup.
Part of that wouldn’t be so you can impress Willow, would it?
What are we now? Sixteen? Trying to win over the girl with our athleticism?
Heck, at this point, it couldn’t hurt.
“Doesn’t matter. Penn and I are gonna wipe the floor with y’all.”
Speaking of the devil, Penn walks through the door with a bandana tied around his head, his shirt soaked in sweat, and his jeans and boots covered in dust. “You got another burger back there?”
“I can whip you up something really quick.” I move to fill a glass of water for him first, setting it in front of him.
“Thanks.” He heaves out a sigh before taking a seat on the stool next to Grady. “Jesus, what a job.”
Parker peaks his head around Grady so he can look at Penn. “Finish the floors?”
“Yes. Finally.” Penn grabs the water and drains the entire thing. “Now it’s just the roof and paint. I talked to Thompson Painting to help with that since if I did it by myself, it would take a week and I don’t have time for that. But are you still up for helping me with the roof?” he asks me.
“Yeah, I told you I would.”
“Good. Then we’re starting next week after the games are over.”
“That’s if neither of you gets hurt,” Grady interjects.
“Look who’s talking, old man.” Penn smirks back at him.
“I’m only one year older than you.”
“Yeah, but you’re all in your thirties, which means you could throw your back out just throwing away a piece of trash,” Parker says.
Grady flexes his giant arms, and out of all of us, he’s definitely the one packing the most muscle. “Not gonna happen.”
“Don’t get cocky, old friend. Haven’t you heard the saying, ‘the bigger they are, the harder they fall?’” Penn taps the bar with his finger.
Grady, Parker, and Penn continue their trash talking while I head for the kitchen to make Penn something to eat.
But he’s right.
The bigger anything is, the harder it falls.
A tree.
A wall.
And a former Marine.
Because as much as I don’t want to admit it, I think I fell head over heels for Willow a long time ago. I just didn’t want to admit it.
***
The restaurant is packed for a Thursday, a common effect of the games approaching this weekend. Tourists have been flocking in all week, and the residents are all placing bets on which team is going to win.
I’m in the middle of running food out to a table when a blonde by the front door catches my attention.
But it’s not just any blonde.
It’s Willow.
As soon as I make sure the customers have everything they need, I head toward her and she starts making her way toward me. When we meet in the middle of the crowded restaurant, I don’t say one word to her before smashing my lips to hers.
Fucking finally.
I pull her into my chest, bury my hand in her hair that’s falling in waves around her face, and show her just how much I missed her over the past two days.
Our tongues tangle as cheers ring out around us, customers clapping and telling us to get a room.
And that’s exactly what I intend to do as soon as this place shuts down for the night.
Perks of having a room right upstairs.
“Well, hello to you too,” she murmurs when we part, resting her forehead on mine.
“Hey, Goose.”
“That was quite the greeting.”
“There’s more where that came from. Just wait.” I give her one more soft kiss and then lead her by the hand toward the bar.
“Hey, Willow!” Baron calls out to her from the table where he’s seated..
“Willow, you look gorgeous, honey!” Dolly says as we walk past her table.
“Thanks, Dolly.”
“Good to see you’ve found someone to keep you busy in town.” She waggles her eyebrows as Willow’s cheeks turn pink.
When we get behind the bar, she’s practically burying her head in my chest. “I feel like everyone is looking at me.”