Chapter Thirty-One
Grayson
My hand curls around the worn brass handle of The Tipsy Tractor, and I tug it open.
The bright afternoon is left behind as soon as I step into the bar, and my eyes take a moment to adjust to the change in lighting.
An old country hit hums out of the old jukebox, the gentle twang drifting throughout the room.
It’s only four in the afternoon, but some of the regulars have already found their seats at the bar, nursing their pints of beer as they wait for the kitchen to whip up their dinner.
Most of them turn at the sound of the door opening, and they nod politely when they see it's me. Others offer a wave. I recognize just about everyone, except for a man seated at the very end of the bar who definitely isn’t from Copper Ridge.
There’s an empty seat next to him, as if all the locals want to stay away from the out-of-towner for fear he might rub off on them.
With Harper’s wallet clutched under my arm, I slide into that open spot and my shoulder accidentally brushes his. “Sorry about that,” I mumble, trying to move to the side to offer more space, but finding I don’t have much.
The double doors to the kitchen burst open, and the sounds of dishes clinking together and the hum of the automatic dishwasher break up the beat of the low country music.
Harper has a plate held in each hand and is balancing a third on her inner arm.
Her hair is twisted back into two braids, the spiky ends now a neon green.
She blows out a bubble with her gum, popping it loudly, and then smiling at me when she passes.
She moves down to the end of the bar, placing burgers in front of each of the three guys who nod appreciatively.
She pulls a bottle of ketchup from her apron, and then reaches for an empty glass, twisting around to refill his beer.
“Whatcha doing here, Gray? I thought you’d be on your way to the city by now.”
I pull her wallet from underneath my arm and hold it in the air. She squints to see what I’m holding, and then she chuckles, cracking a wide smile as her head tilts back. “I’ve been looking for that thing for three days! Where did you find it?”
“Harper,” I groan, scrubbing a hand over my face. “You need to keep your wallet on you at all times. Have you been driving around town without your license?”
She tops off the beer, spinning again to set it in front of her patrons.
She looks at their plates, their glasses, and takes a quick glance at everyone's faces to make sure they’re all set before she makes her way down to my end of the bar.
When she reaches me, she taps a finger in front of the city guy to my right, snagging his attention from his phone.
“You good?” Harper asks, and his nearly blushing smile lingers on her a little more than I’d like.
A little more than is appropriate for someone who looks to be older than me.
They share some silent conversation, something else that doesn’t sit right with me. Harper must see the look on my face because her attention turns back to me, and she lets me see one of her best eye rolls.
She reaches her hand out to snag her wallet from my hand, cocking a brow as she does.
“Thank you for finding this. And yes, to answer your question, I’m very aware you’re supposed to drive with your driver’s license on you, and that I shouldn’t keep my social security card in my wallet, and everything else that Dad constantly nags me about.
” She turns away from me to toss her wallet on the back side of the bar.
It bounces once, landing alongside her tip jar.
“I knew it was somewhere sort of safe, I just couldn’t remember where I left it. ”
I cross my arms over my chest, exhaling roughly at my little sister.
She gets so upset when we nag her about responsibility.
When we remind her of basic safety measures and try to encourage her.
She’s independent, no one can deny that, but she’s flighty, and until she shows that she’s making changes, I know my parents won’t let up on her.
She puts a hand up in my direction, stopping my speech that she’s heard a hundred times.
“I don’t need to hear it, trust me.” She then puts her hand down, and gives me a once over, pausing at my necktie.
“Oh, Grayson.” She strides down the length of the bar, lifts up the slab of wood to slide under, and stalks toward me with her hands already in the air.
“I might forget where I placed my wallet, but at least I can tie a necktie.”
Her hands make quick work of undoing my necktie, one I spent almost thirty minutes trying to fix. She flicks up my collar and loosens my tie before readjusting the pieces. Her eyes are focused on my chest, before they briefly flick up to my face, and then down again. “You’re nervous.”
She doesn’t question it, doesn’t even pretend to.
“Yeah…” I swallow roughly. “Tonight is a big deal for Holly.” I promised her I’d go to this event with her, and I’d never want to let her down.
She’s shown me bits and pieces of the speech she’s planned, and while I think it’s incredible, she doesn’t agree.
She has torn herself apart and nitpicked nearly every word even when she doesn’t have to.
She’s going to kill it, I know it. There’s no way she won’t have the entire room eating out of her palm.
She doesn’t need me there, but she doesn’t see it that way.
And if my girl feels better when I’m around, well then I’ll suffer through a formal cocktail event in the city.
“Well, you look very handsome,” my little sister says as she straightens her knot in my tie.
She smooths down the fabric, pulling the tie clip from her teeth and pinning it to my shirt.
She takes a step back with her hands clasped over her chest as if she’s a parent sending her child off to his first school dance.
“My big brother, all dressed up and going to the city.”
“I’m going to stick out like a sore thumb at this event.”
She rolls her eyes, turning to make her way back behind the bar.
She doesn’t bother lifting up the wooden slab, just crouches her petite frame to walk under it.
Once she’s back in front of me with the bar separating us, she reaches for a rocks glass and a bottle of scotch.
“The only person that’ll think you’re out of place is you.
” She pours two fingers of scotch in the glass and sets it in front of the city guy.
He bites back a smirk, and when she spins to put his glass in the sink, I see his eyes briefly flick to her ass.
I puff out my chest, leaning down to rest my forearms on the bar next to him, ensuring I have his attention.
“I don’t believe we’ve met,” I say, reaching out a hand.
“I’m Grayson Hart.” I gesture with a head tilt toward Harper, lowering my voice.
“And that young woman you can’t keep your eyes off of is my little sister, my twenty-three-year-old sister. ”
He leans back in his chair, setting one arm on the back rest before placing his hand in mine. With a firm grip, we shake once. “Nathaniel Brooks. Nice to meet you.”
I nod, releasing his hand but keeping my gaze solely on him.
“I appreciate the protectiveness you have over your sister, but I assure you, I’m the last person you’d need to worry about hurting her.”
I scoff a little at that. “Maybe because you’re the last person I’d let her hang around.”
He brings the fresh glass of scotch to his lips for a sip. “You don’t even know me, Grayson.”
“True, but we see your kind in here from time to time. A city slicker passing through a sleepy small town, stops for a drink, and tries to get with the cute bartender for a night with no plans to call her the next day. There are plenty of other bars in this town, or the nearby towns, I wouldn’t get too comfortable at this one. ”
My words don’t phase him, and neither does my size.
To be honest, his size matches mine. I can tell he’s tall, even with how he’s leaned back in the bar seat.
His suit looks custom made, and that’s likely to accommodate his broad shoulders and long legs.
He carries a different confidence about him though, one that says he’s secure in both his size and his abilities.
He takes another slow sip of scotch and sets the glass on the coaster in front of him.
“Can I buy you a drink, Grayson? I think we have a few things we could talk about.”
"I’m headed to the city for the night, I’ll have to pass.”
He nods once, reaching into the inside pocket of his suit coat to pull out a wallet. He rifles through it, pulling out what looks like a business card and slaps it on the dented bar top in front of me. I read the top of the card, stomach churning.
Nathaniel Brooks
Land Developer
Brooks and Sons Realty
I rest my pointer finger on the top of the card and slide it along the bar to rest by his rocks glass. “There isn’t anything you and I need to discuss.”
He pushes the card back toward me and stands, abandoning his drink. He fishes through his wallet again, pulling out a crisp one hundred dollar bill and places it next to his half-full glass of expensive scotch. “Your family owns one of the largest farms in Copper Ridge.”
He looks at me, but I don’t nod, don’t acknowledge his words.
“Farming is a tough business. Larger organizations often outsell the little folks. Climate change affects crops, beef prices fluctuate.” He nods to the card once again. “If you’re interested in selling, I promise I’d make it worth your while.”
I’m about to follow him to the parking lot, to remind him again, and maybe not as politely, that he and I have nothing to talk about, when Harper pipes up.
“Heading out already?”
Nathaniel and I both turn to look at her, and her eyes flick from him to me, and back again.
Nathaniel nods, tucking his wallet back into his suit pocket.
“Back to the city for a few weeks. It was good to see you again, Harper.” My head whips to look at my sister, and if I didn’t know any better, there was a blush begging to bloom brightly, even against the dim lights of the bar.
Nathaniel looks at me once more, nods goodbye, and then he’s out, taking one of the side doors that leads to the back parking lot.
“What the hell is that about?” I bark, following my little sister as she moves from one end of the bar to the other, pulling empty plates from satisfied guests.
“What’s what about?” she asks sweetly.
“You and the city guy seem a little friendly.”
“I’m friendly with everyone, Grayson. I’m a bartender. I like to talk. He comes for a drink when he’s in town, and we talk. He’s not a bad guy.”
I grab the business card between my pointer and middle fingers, holding it up for her to see. “He’s using you to get our land.”
She laughs at that. “Right, because the decisions regarding the fate of the farm are resting in my hands? Sure. Honestly, he can have it as long as he leaves my goats.”
“How can you say that?”
She pulls a clean white rag from a folded stack on the counter, tossing it into a small bucket.
She brings the bucket to the sink, flipping the handle and letting her hand run underneath.
Once she’s satisfied with the temperature, she spins the spout so water fills the bucket.
“Because you’re killing yourself over it, Gray.
Everyone works themselves to the bone just to barely make ends meet.
Sometimes, I think they should sell, split the money.
Mom and Dad could retire, you could move to the city with Holly, Theo could—”
“I can’t believe you think we should sell,” I interrupt, voice raised. Our conversation has a few heads turning, and Harper offers a placating smile to them before turning to me, her expression twisting.
She shuts off the water, sighing heavily before coming to stand at the end of the bar with me.
“Listen, Gray. I don’t want to argue about this.
I just want more for you, and I think a life with Holly should include something more than burning yourself out every single day working at the farm.
You remember how it was with Dad growing up.
He’d be gone from the house before we woke up and work in the fields until it was dark. ”
“I do remember, same as you. And I remember being really fucking proud of the man he is.” Our dad worked his ass off to provide for us, through scorching heat waves and ball-busting blizzards. My little sister needs to learn to show her appreciation.
She sighs and her hands come to rest on her hips before her eyes flick to the wall behind me briefly. “You need to get going or you’re going to be late picking her up.”
I twist around, seeing that it’s well past four thirty now. “Shit.”
“I’m sorry that we don’t agree on the farm, but don’t think about that now.
Tonight is about Holly, so tell her I said hi and to kick ass.
Drive safe, okay?” She nods, walking backward until her shoulders press against one side of the double doors that lead to the kitchen.
She disappears with a twist, and I don’t have time to wait for her to come back out because if I don’t leave now, I’m about to hit rush hour traffic, and I don’t want to be late to pick up Holly.