Keeping it Local (Port St. Clair #1)

1. Beth

Beth

My feet ached, but my heart was full.

“Hold up!” I yelled at Megan, who was a couple steps in front of me.

“Come on, you’re just in wedges. I don’t know why you’re moving so slowly,” she huffed.

“I’m normally in tennis shoes. Give me a break!”

I’d just moved in with Megan that afternoon, and she’d already strong-armed me into going downtown and having a drink to celebrate my new life in Port St. Clair—at least, for the summer, that is.

The small Michigan tourist town on Lake Huron seemed like the perfect place to forget about everything at home.

Megan and I had met years ago through my cousin, and even though we’d never lived in the same town, we’d kept in touch over the years.

She was one of the bubbliest people I knew, and I was secretly happy that she’d already taken me under her wing, knowing that I’d get some version of the college experience I never had.

When she found out about my move to Port St. Clair, she’d offered me her spare room and gotten me the job at Huron Rentals—a place that rented out boats and bikes to the tourists that came through.

It was one of three shops, and I was excited about the part-time gig.

Besides, I figured it’d be a good business to learn something from and figure out how to incorporate the changes back home.

I wanted to move our small-scale market farm from selling to local vendors and farmer’s markets to expanding into more events.

I thought the shop would be a great way to get more involved within the community and take back the things I learned.

“Okay, okay. We’re basically here anyway,” she said.

I followed her up the steps, and we walked to Windbreaker. She said it was the place to be and that there would be live music tonight. I was exhausted from the move, and the day already felt like a whirlwind, but I’d agreed to go along with her.

“There’s a spot back here!”

Megan and I made our way over to the corner, where she threw her bag down and hopped up into the big booth.

“This is perfect. I always feel like I’m stuck in the back. This is a good spot. Close to the bar, but also the stage. You don’t want to be too close though. Your ears will be ringing tomorrow.” She waved her hand toward the band.

I sat down across from her.

“Have you checked out the rental place yet?” Megan asked.

“No. Not yet, anyway. I figured I’d explore town tomorrow and check everything out before I start. The owner, Mary, seemed nice enough on the phone.”

“Oh, she’s the best. It’ll be totally fun. It’s a perfect spot for a summer job, especially in a tourist town like this. You’ll see tons of people. Plus, it’ll be really low-key compared to what you’re used to, especially with taking classes.”

Glancing around the room, I noticed the bar was already filling up even though the band didn’t start until nine.

“I’ll get us some beers. Anything you want in particular?” Megan asked.

“I’ll have whatever you’re having. Maybe something local.”

She headed off to the bar, stopping no less than three times to say hi to different people and flitting about to give people hugs on the way. You could tell she’d grown up here.

Me on the other hand? This was a totally different experience.

Being with Megan made things so much easier though.

The band set up on stage, and there were a couple old guys tuning their guitars and testing the mics with background noise going on around them.

My head was spinning after all the changes today, and as soon as she brought back the drink, I chugged half the bottle, trying to calm my nerves.

“Pace yourself, girl. We’ve got all night,” Megan teased, taking a pull from her own beer.

“I will. I will.” I gave her a half-smile.

“How are you feeling about everything?” She leaned close.

“I’m excited. Obviously.” I paused then added, “But I’m nervous, you know?

It feels ridiculous that I’m almost thirty and I’ve never lived anywhere else.

I’ve always lived within a couple miles of my parents.

I should feel lucky that this is even happening.

But half of me is just crawling up the wall, and the other half is asking why I haven’t given it a shot in the past.”

“Well, you’ve had some things going on over the last few years,” she answered.

I nodded but didn’t respond.

There were certain things left unsaid. Megan knew about me giving up business school after my dad’s stroke a couple years ago.

I didn’t need to rehash it with her. In my twenties—instead of fun parties, learning new things, and meeting new people—I’d been caring for my dad, supporting my mom, and taking a bigger lead in the day-to-day of the business.

I never regretted being there for my family, but a part of me always wondered what would have happened if I had gone.

What would have been different? What would I have become if I wasn’t in my parents’ shadow?

“What classes are you taking? You said you start this week?” Megan asked.

“Yeah, it’s just a mini session. Less than eight weeks.

There’s a finance class, which should be really helpful.

Plus, I’m taking a business workshop with my old professor.

It’s supposed to have other business owners as part of it, so that should be good too.

” Professor Mackey had personally called me about the workshop.

I met him a few years back when I got my associate’s, and he still remained a sounding board for me.

He knew about some changes I wanted to make and thought it’d be helpful.

My mom even pushed me to go when I told her, so here I was.

“That should be good!”

Megan lifted her glass at me, and I clinked her beer bottle with mine as I took a big sip.

“I can’t believe you stayed in that tiny little town for as long as you did.” She shook her head. “I mean, Port St. Clair is small, but nothing compared to where you grew up. Who do you even date in such a small town?”

I laughed. “Good point. Everyone cycles through the same people, it seems. Probably why I dated my high school sweetheart for as long as I did—and continued to do.” Until recently, that was.

“Not that I’m looking for anything serious.” She threw her hands in the air, laughing. “I don’t think I can handle that.”

Catching the eye of someone in the bar, Megan pushed her hair behind her ears and gave a slight wave, looking past where I sat.

Following her gaze, I shook my head when I saw a group of men in their mid-twenties being loud and rowdy.

The occasion seemed to be a bachelor party or something. I rolled my eyes, laughing.

“You seem to like living in a touristy college town,” I joked to her.

“What’s not to like? New people all the time. The locals stick around, so you have to make sure you don’t shit where you eat. But overall, I like it. Might be a good spot for you to have a little fun.” She raised her eyebrows at me, nodding to the bachelor party.

I just laughed, taking another sip of my beer.

“Just think about it.” She gave a sassy wink before saying hi to a woman who passed our table.

When the band got up on stage and started playing, I was surprised by how good they were. It was a classic-rock cover band, playing a lot of the same stuff that you always heard—Journey, Steve Miller, some Elton John, and some deeper cuts too.

A few of the locals would get up and dance during some of the songs, and I watched Megan thrive in her environment as she hooted and hollered at the band, even getting up to dance with one of the bachelor party crew for a bit.

As much as I fought it, I couldn’t stay seated.

I walked out onto the crowded dance floor and swayed my hips, surrounded by the laughing and chatting of people around me.

The place was one of those honky-tonks that had old photos on the walls, dollar bills stapled behind the bar, and the permanent musk of beer.

Energy ripped through the dance floor, and it was hard not to smile as I twirled myself around.

And almost as if Megan planned it, the hairs on the back of my neck stood up as I heard a deep voice half-whisper, half-yell into my ear over the music.

“Care to dance?”

My skin prickled, and I whirled around, surprised by the ask, and caught myself staring up at the six-foot-something man in a backward baseball hat wearing a wide grin on his scruffy face.

His hair was dark, and his eyes matched.

All the blood in my body rushed to my face as I looked at him.

The t-shirt he wore tugged across his wide chest, and there was a magnetic pull to him that made no sense.

“Sure,” I said, distracted by his body and almost forgetting he had asked me a question.

He pulled me in, and we swayed together to the classic rock tunes floating through the air. His hands were hot on my hips as he held me close to his body, and my hands found their way to his.

Leaning in and speaking loudly over the music, he said, “Haven’t seen you around here before.”

“Just came into town,” I answered, fully aware of his chest to mine, our hips flush, the heat between us.

“Oh, so just a little vacation then?” he asked, dipping me to one of the songs.

“Something like that.” It was hard not to wear a goofy grin when this guy had all the confidence in the world.

The last time I was pushed around the dance floor was at my cousin’s wedding in Tennessee, where my ex-boyfriend, Michael, had two left feet.

In comparison, this guy was smooth. One of the cool guys in high school for sure.

Meanwhile, I was the quirky girl trying to impress him and knowing full well his interest wouldn’t last.

“Well, let’s make it worth your time then.” He pulled me in closer and sang along to the music, just an inch from my ear, making every nerve in my body light up at his deep, sultry voice.

We danced for what felt like hours. Him twirling me, dipping me, holding me close, whispering in my ear.

Every light touch was electricity. We talked back and forth about everything and yet nothing at all—nothing personal anyway.

All I knew about him was that he had been here three years and owned a bunch of rental properties in town.

I told him I was in town with a friend and normally lived three hours away in Randall.

Those were the only personal details shared, and I was completely okay with that.

I wanted to lose myself with him, and the more we talked, the more I figured it could happen.

But as soon as it began, it ended.

“Hey man, we gotta go.” His buddy came up and patted him on the back. “Sorry to cut this short, but Greg needs us.”

“Shit. Are you serious?” He held me close as they seemed to have a whole conversation with their eyes.

Then my dance partner leaned down, whispering in my ear, “Sorry beautiful, looks like we won’t be able to make the most of it. Enjoy your time in Port St. Clair…” He paused, waiting for my name.

“Beth,” I said with a weary smile.

“I’m Johnny.” He winked at me, squeezing my waist. “Now don’t have too much fun while you’re here.”

The guys took off without another word and left me standing there still feeling the nerves of before, but now also incredibly turned on. Meanwhile, Megan was in another booth across the bar, making out with one of the bachelor party guys. She had missed the whole thing.