It Happened After Hours

Chapter 1

Chapter One

THEN IT HAPPENED

Jessa

Rex and Chelsea’s new estate at Evergreen Lake stood out like a dream carved into reality for the nuptials of our friends Archer and Penny.

A quartet played the bridal march under strings of golden lights wound through oak branches above.

White chairs lined the lawn to the dock, the aisle draped chair to chair in ivory satin with arrangements of blush and red roses and creamy hydrangeas perfuming the air.

Sunset shimmered on the water like magic reflecting the final hues of summer.

Penny floated down the aisle in creamy silk that caught the light; Archer Bellamy waited in a sand-colored linen suit, eyes locked on his bride, a single tear giving his emotions away.

Beside him stood his twin Brooks, then Rex, Richard, and Keaton—all matching suits, all money and legacy rolled into one perfect bridal party.

For once I wasn’t behind the bar watching someone else’s fairy tale—they’d invited me. Jessa Cole. Bartender, problem-solver, honorary friend thanks to Sophie and Keaton Kingston. Sitting among them, sipping champagne, every second of it felt like I was trespassing into a better world.

Then I saw him.

Two rows ahead, Griffin West sat. Light-blue linen jacket, crisp white shirt, platinum watch. Every inch expensive and tempting. My bartender instincts could read any man—but with him, every alarm went silent. No warnings. Only desperate desire.

He caught me staring and smiled, exactly like the first time he’d stepped into the Holly Creek Hops and stole my breath away. From the very first night, I’d never really recovered.

I sat in a daze, almost missing everything about the ceremony, like the golden retriever carrying the ring pillow on its back up the aisle, and the way Archer held baby Alexander while reciting vows of love and forever.

Everything was perfect, to an outsider like me looking in.

At the reception, guests were treated to a four-course meal held inside a huge white tent decorated with more flowers and lights, and with a hardwood floor to dance on.

Eventually, I ditched the people I’d met at the singles table—those of us who had dared come without a plus one and had been put at a table at the rear of the seating chart.

I hid on the fringe near the bar, familiar territory from which I could observe everything. As all the pretty people passed me by, I recited polite hellos. At last, Griffin stood about twenty feet away, his posture amazing for a CEO and single father.

Would he dare talk to me when I was among his people, when I wasn’t serving him Macallan and dishing out flirty conversation over a heavily lacquered brewery bar?

He knelt beside a boy who must be his son, going on excitedly about something while Griffin tied his shoe, with the patience a father had never afforded me. The kid laughed, shoulders shaking like Griffin had always done at my one-liner bar jokes. He trotted off to play with the other children.

Another man joined Griffin in conversation, tall and almost the spitting image of him. As if the world needed two men with the same striking good looks.

Then it happened.

Griffin stared right at me. I checked quickly behind me to be sure there was no one else in his line of sight. Nope, just me. My heart stuttered. The entire party blurred. Never had a man held this strong of a hold on me.

Sophie chose that exact moment to approach, startling me out of the brief trance. “You should get out from behind the bar more often.”

“Your husband makes the schedule. Tell him.” I smoothed my violet thrift-store maxi dress. Compared to me, her pink chiffon gown made her glow; pregnancy suited her—as did the fortune and love that came with her marriage to my boss.

I tried not to envy her friendly group of wives and mothers. Chelsea and Vivian were inspiring in the kitchen on TV in a cooking program they now produced together. Maisy and Sophie blazed trails in science and marketing. They each had stability on their own, apart from their husbands’ wealth.

I had bills, a fixer-upper house and run-down car—both beyond hope—plus an ailing mother, and two younger sisters depending on me.

“Who’s that with Griffin?” I asked her.

“Holden. One of my stepbrothers, the one who bought the ski resort in Steele Valley I told you about.”

“Another West? How many are there again?”

“Three more you haven’t met—Landon, Atlas, and Beck. And yes, they’re all gorgeous.” She eyed me knowingly. “Why don’t you go talk to Griffin?”

“Oh no. He’s with family.” I turned back toward the bar. “The ‘Say I Do Brew’ is selling well tonight. Keaton will be thrilled.”

“Don’t deflect. I’ve seen how Griffin talks to you when he visits at Hops now and then. You intrigue him.”

“Sure,” I muttered. “About as much as the IPA he prefers at the bar. Stop matchmaking, Soph.” I grinned despite myself right when two women casually approached the West men and engaged them in conversation.

How could I compete with the way they tossed their blown-out hair to the side, and their jeweled earrings shimmered in the light, or how the fabric of their gowns skimmed their bodies without a bulge in sight?

God blessed me with a flat-ish tummy and C-cup breasts—but curvy hips and a plump rump, too. Forever the midsize girl, no matter what I tried.

“Jessa, I’ve never heard you sound this way.

Usually, you exude confidence. You don’t need to shrink from being yourself for anyone.

Especially for a man. And Griffin likes you, trust me; otherwise, he wouldn’t give you the time of day.

Don’t think that I haven’t seen the way he talks with you at the bar. ”

“It’s easy there. I’m in my element, not as exposed.”

“I only want to see you find someone special. You work so hard for your family. It’s your turn to be taken care of, don’t you think?”

“Just because your friends are all married now, doesn’t make me your next target,” I chortled.

“Why not? You know Keaton thrives on tinkering with custom brews for special occasions, especially weddings. You’re pretty much his right arm in the business at Hops. He’d love to make a brew for your wedding day.”

I cast my eyes again at the bar, where the two bartenders worked nonstop to keep drinks in the hands of this elite crowd. I should give all this up and join them.

“Yeah. We’ll call it the Pitiful Cinderella Pilsner. Only I doubt there’ll ever be a Prince Charming coming my way.”

“Hm. Don’t look now. But I think Charming is finding his way to you. Talk to you later.” She strolled off with a wave to Griffin, leaving me standing there very exposed.

“Hey, stranger,” I managed to light up, nerves and all, with no bar between us for the very first time.

“I thought that was you,” he said, voice smooth. “Halfway through dinner, Theo needed the water closet—” Of course he’d call it that. “—and I saw you. The woman with all the best spirits in Holly Creek.”

“Technically, I just mix the drinks. Keaton owns the alcohol.”

“But you serve it with a smile and a great attitude. That counts more than most people think.” His eyes flashed an autumn-hued dream at me, putting me in a daze once again.

Then, his son burst back in. “Dad! Paris helped me catch a frog. Want to see?”

He held it aloft. The ladies by Holden screamed.

I covered my mouth and snickered—mud and frogs never scared a Cole girl.

My sisters and I loved getting dirty and playing outside in the country as we grew up.

That was what we did as a poor family from the other side of town.

Our entertainment was the great outdoors.

“Theo,” Griffin warned, “get that thing out of here, please.”

But before he could take a step, the frog jumped out of his hands, to the horror of the shrieking women. I moved quickly, chased it down, and caught it.

“Here, hun. Cup your hands,” I instructed. Theo did, and I put the little frog inside, closing his hands around it. I winked at him. “Better take it to the lake where it’ll have a nice long life and not scare these pretty people.”

Paris, in her junior bridesmaid’s gown but her typical scuffed and dusty cowboy boots, rushed in apologetically and yanked Theo away, and waved hi to her dad as she ducked out of the tent.

Richard followed out after his daughter, probably to see the frog up close and personal now that he was a billionaire-turned-hobby farmer.

I sheepishly glanced at Griffin, worried I’d turned off a man of his status.

He grinned from ear to ear. “Good save. Quick reflexes. Impressive.”

“There are some benefits to being a country girl. So that’s your son?” I asked, brushing my hands in case any frog germs remained.

“Yep. That’s Theo. All nine years of boyhood wonder and never-ending energy.” He scratched his darkly shaded jawline, although usually he appeared clean-shaven—both looks on him equally attractive. “Wish I had his stamina.”

I almost swallowed my tongue because thoughts of Griffin’s stamina weren’t what I needed right now.

“You’re not exactly an old man. You must have plenty.” I admired the veins in his neck, and the way the buttoned shirt just skimmed his broad chest without being too tight.

“Never had any complaints.” His mouth twitched.

This was the way things had been between us from the start. We balanced on a live wire of flirting—every word a spark. Until Rex called from across the tent.

“Griffin!” He waved him over to a group of men around him.

He sighed. “He’s been wanting to introduce me to these new investors for the Evergreen Lake project.”

“Go on. Close your deal or whatever it is you men do. I’ll go wash frog germs off my hands.”

He smiled. “We’ll talk later?”

“Maybe.” I tilted my head in a tease, and took Mom’s timeless advice. Always leave them wanting more.

Later took too long though, and some time later a text pinged my phone from the Hops’ night manager: Sliced my hand. Going to the clinic for stitches. Need you or Keaton to close.

Across the way, Keaton occupied Sophie on the dance floor, swaying in complete couple bliss to the string quartet playing Sinatra’s The Way You Look Tonight. Talk about relationship goals—I couldn’t disrupt them.

It’d be me coming to the rescue and taking care of things at the Hops as usual. Cinderella’s time at the ball just expired. That was my life in a nutshell.

As I crossed the lawn to the valet stand, Griffin stood among the men with cigars and drinks, his jacket now off, tie loose, shirt sleeves rolled up. They roared with laughter over something probably only those of their status would think was funny.

To my surprise, he jogged up as the valet brought my clunky car around. “You’re not leaving already?”

“Emergency at Hops. I have to close up tonight.” I gestured with my phone as if he could read the texts.

He leaned a palm against my door, too close, the other hand stuffed casually into his pocket. “Shame. You’re running out on me just when the night could get fun.”

“You looked occupied. Besides, I’m not the champagne-and-string-quartet type.”

“Then maybe you need a change of scenery.” His voice dropped. “Theo’s staying with Richard’s kids tonight. You could come by my rental house after you close up. Pour me a drink. Enjoy the lake view.”

His sly smile and tone clued me in that he was suggesting more than a casual drop-in. Yes, I wanted him. No, I wouldn’t make this easy for him.

“Sorry. This bartender doesn’t usually make house calls.”

“I’m not asking the bartender. I’m asking you.” Butterflies rioted in my stomach, urging me to say yes. “Can you make an exception tonight after you’re done? I’ll be up late, as I usually am. We’re renting for the weekend at the Harrington House.”

My hand froze around my keys. I’d driven many times past the sprawling lakefront home that was among the original mansions built here years ago. Every time I brought my sisters to the beach at the lake, we drove past it, daydreaming about a life inside those windows.

For him, it was a rental for the week. For me, it was a fairy tale.

“Look, I didn’t mean that the way it sounded,” he backtracked when I hadn’t answered. “Just stop by for a casual drink and talk. Keep me company before I have to head back to the city.”

“Maybe.” I played it cooly, letting the word hang between us.

He waved as I drove off, the grin on his face knowing he’d already won more ground than he should have.

When I showed up at the Harrington House after hours, all I wanted was one night where I could pretend real life didn’t exist—and that a man like Griffin West could ever be mine.