Chapter 12
Archer
Around one, I wander into the Maple Bar and Grill, the faint smell of maple and meat pulling a growl from my stomach.
The whole place is covered in warm wood and calm lighting. The booths with worn brown vinyl line one wall and a waxed wood bar holds space at the center of the restaurant.
Most people frequent the grill for weekends or main meals, so I wait for the lunchtime rush to be over every Monday. This way, my piddly social battery doesn’t drain too quickly and my stomach is filled properly. I’m an okay cook, but every once in a while, I need a break.
I step across the wooden flooring and head to the bar, but my footing falters. Juliet occupies one of the stools with an easy smile on her lips. They shine a deep red with a tantalizing gloss.
“What are you doing here?” I ask, taking a few steps forward.
She looks completely unfazed at my arrival, as if she was expecting me.
“Getting lunch.” She pulls out the stool next to her and pats it with two, succinct taps.
I get the invitation but still hesitate. “Alone?”
“Not anymore,” she says, motioning to me.
My shoulders release the tension they were carrying.
“You’re sure this is a good idea?” I say, slowly taking the seat.
A box from Keller’s Bakehouse sits on the bar in front of her.
“Why? Afraid my dad will come in?”
I chuckle, then cover it by clearing my throat. “I’m not afraid of your dad.”
“Then why wouldn’t this be a good idea?”
With any other girl, I would think I was being challenged or pushed into being belligerent. With Juliet, all I sense is pure curiosity.
“I just didn’t know if you were waiting for someone.”
“Like, who?”
There’s no way I’m going to bring up the Walker boy. Then she’ll know I’ve been thinking about their relationship status since Friday.
“No one,” I lie. “It’s just not every day I see a woman looking that comfortable eating by herself.”
She shrugs, leaning her chin on her propped-up fist. “I do it all the time. I did at my dad’s party.”
Well, since she brought it up. “Didn’t look like you were alone.”
“I guess I wasn’t. I just meant I went alone.”
“Right.” She was way too cozied up with Luke to not be more than friends with that kid.
Kid. He’s probably Juliet’s age, and Juliet is no ‘kid.’
The bartender Hal takes our orders, then asks if he can start us off with a drink. We both get waters, though Juliet gets a lemon with hers.
She watches me, still leaning her chin against her fist. It’s unnerving, that unwavering gaze. I’ve never met a woman with this level of confidence before.
I motion to the box beside her. “What’s that?”
“Maple bars. They’re for you.”
Expecting my presence at the bar. Bringing my favorite pastry. This screams of treachery. “You’ve been talking to Sadie.”
She grins. “Impressive deduction skills, cowboy.”
There she goes again with that cowboy talk. I have to ignore the way it makes my chest open up and reach toward her with ravenous grasps.
“So why the pastries?” I ask.
“I hear it’s the best way to get you to do something.”
“And what is it you want me to do?”
“Answer the six questions I’m owed.”
“You’re still on that?”
“Yup.”
“And you want to know more about my association with your dad?”
“I do.”
Her hair is down today in dark, silky-smooth waves. She tucks a strand behind her ear, though it’s so thick and long, it just falls forward again.
“Have you asked him?” I question.
“I’m working on it. I want both sides of the story, but he’s not as easy to crack.” She motions to the box. “So what do you say? Six maple bars for six questions.”
“There’s only six in there? I might’ve agreed for a dozen, but now...” I trail off with a disappointed click of my tongue.
She scoots away from the bar. “Fine, I’ll go back and buy the bakery out of them if I have to.”
I hold out my hand to stop her. “Okay, okay. I’ll take the six and answer your questions.”
She smiles far too happily. I might’ve made a mistake agreeing so easily.
“Perfect. My first one is—” I chuckle, and she pauses. “What?”
“You have them prepared already?”
“Of course I do. They’ve been on the tip of my tongue since Friday.”
I glance down at her lips as if I could see the words behind them. All I see is the slight curve of her lips and the shimmering bar lights glinting off the bottom one that’s slightly more plump than the top.
Hal delivers our waters, and Juliet takes a sip through her straw. Time to look away.
“Okay,” I say, “I’ll answer your questions, but not here.”
“Why?”
I motion around with a wave of my finger. “Too many prying ears.”
“This is too many people?” She glances at the three couples seated in the booths behind us and the one man at the far end of the bar staring dazedly into his drink. “The entire town is overrun because of the upcoming festival. What’s emptier than this?”
“I joined your world the last time I saw you. It’s high time you join me in mine.”
Her brows raise with realization. “Horseshoe Holler?”
“You up for a little trail ride, Miss Monroe?”
I’m flirting with fire. No. Worse than fire. I’m flirting with the mayor’s daughter.
“Are you serious?”
“’Course.”
Juliet isn’t going to let her questions go—the maple bars make that fairly obvious—and the stables are the only place I know where Mayor Monroe won’t interrupt our conversation.
There’s no chance she’ll believe me over her dad, but at least in going first, I’ll have a better chance at explaining my side of things.
“All right,” she says, laying her hand flat on the bar. “You’ve got yourself a deal. When are we making this happen?”
“I’m free now.”
Her eyes sparkle. “Me too.”
We take our food to go, and I carry both bags as Juliet grabs the maple bars.
Leaving the restaurant behind, I motion to my truck parked nearby. “Want a ride? Unless you’ve fixed your car?”
She blows out a scoff. “Nope. Miss Sunfire is now safely tucked away in the junkyard exactly where she belongs.”
“A ride it is, then.”
I open her door, and I’m brought back to when I picked her up on the side of the road. A wave of regret rushes over me.
I wish I would’ve known who she was before. I would have kept my guard up and not fallen for her so swiftly.
Now, I have to drop it completely as I air the dirty laundry from my past and wave it in front of this pristinely polished mayor’s daughter whose only mistake in life was probably getting in the truck with me in the first place.
We’ll see if she can stomach me after she learns what I did.