Chapter Nine
Brandee
D inner at Sabel and Sebby’s is delightful.
We eat until we are full, and then we sit out on the deck with coffee and dessert.
Sabel shares stories about the island and explains how she and Sebby became friends with Aunt Ida and Uncle Andy after they purchased the cottage next door.
They lived there and raised their family until they bought the land across the street and built this home.
They kept the cottage and used it as a seasonal rental, which was how Avie and Leia ended up living there.
Once Avie reconnected with and eventually married their grandson, Sabel and Sebby gifted the cottage to the newlyweds.
“Wow, that’s quite a story,” Erin says to Avie, who is seated on the swing with Sebastian.
“I know,” Avie agrees as she grins up at her husband. Leia and Sebby are inside, working on a model sailboat the two are building together. “Who could’ve guessed our little tropical fling would lead to this?”
“Speaking of tropical flings, where can one find a hot, handsome island man around here?” Erin asks.
“Erin,” I start to admonish her, but she holds up a hand.
“I’m just curious.”
“I thought you were married, dear,” Sabel says.
“Oh, I am. I’ve got me a hot, handsome mountain man back home, but Brandee here is super single.”
“Super single? What the hell is super single?” I ask.
Jena sighs. “You know, the kind of single that could use a good bedding,” she explains.
My eyes cut to Sabel as I feel the flush crawling up my neck. “Geezus, you guys. Sabel, I’m so sorry.”
The older woman just laughs.
“Oh, please. Sabel’s spent enough time with me and my friends. Trust me, nothing surprises her,” Avie says.
Erin glances at Jena. “Yep, totally Leona.”
Sebastian clears his throat. “If you all want to drink, dance, listen to some good music, and meet”—he air-quotes—“ ‘hot island guys,’ I’d recommend checking out Whiskey Joe’s. It’s a country bar located just off the island at the end of the east bridge.”
“Yeah, I agree. Whiskey Joe’s is definitely the place to meet people. Especially this weekend. My friend Audrey said Cody Banks and his band are playing. It should be a good time,” Avie says.
“Cody Banks? Oh, I love his music,” Jena says, then looks at me. “Can we go tonight?”
I shrug as I look at my watch. “It’s just after seven. I guess we could head there in a bit.”
“We have to get ready first. You’re not going like that,” Erin says, tilting her chin toward me.
I look down at my leggings and sweater. “What’s wrong with my outfit? I like this sweater.”
“There’s nothing wrong with it for a cozy night at the neighbors’, eating ribs, but it’s not going out dancing with a sexy island man sweater,” she says.
I shake my head and look at Avie. “See what I’m dealing with?”
Avie laughs. “I have one of those.”
“One of what?” Erin asks.
“A crazy, pushy friend.”
“You mean, an amazing friend,” Erin quips.
“Yes, I do.”
We park my truck in an overflow lot across the street from Whiskey Joe’s. There is a line of people standing at the front entrance. A large man in a black tee and jeans is seated on a stool, checking IDs with a little flashlight before allowing admittance.
There isn’t anything like this in the valley. The closest thing we have is Appalachian Ridge Brewery, where our friend Maxi bartends, but it’s about an eighth the size of this place.
Erin convinced me to swap my sweater for a curve-hugging red tank top. “It’ll be so hot on the dance floor,” she insisted.
I paired the top with dark jeans and black boots. Jena curled my long brown hair and did my makeup, making me feel pretty damn good about myself. However, as soon as I stepped out into the cold night air, I regretted every decision I had made since leaving the warmth of Sabel’s deck.
“Hello, ladies,” the muscled man in the black tee greets us as we each hand him our IDs. “Tennessee—beautiful country up there. Enjoy yourselves,” he says as he hands them back.
“Thanks, handsome,” Erin says as she pulls open one of the double doors.
We are welcomed by a rush of heat as we enter the front of the club. A young woman with a bright smile takes our cover charge, and we walk through another set of doors into the dimly lit bar. Loud music fills the space.
“Okay, before we get into the crowd, we need to make a plan. Pick a safe word,” Erin says, looking at me.
“A safe word?”
She nods. “Yeah, something that lets us know if you’re uninterested in a guy who’s trying to chat you up.”
“Why would I need that? If I’m uninterested, I’ll just politely end the conversation and walk away,” I say.
“Because this isn’t Balsam Ridge. We don’t know everyone and their momma in this place. And some guys get persistent and overzealous when they’ve been drinking and they’re on the prowl,” she insists. “Now pick a word.”
I give in. “Fine, I pick …” I look around for inspiration, and my eyes land on a deer head mounted above the stage. “Bambi.”
“Good one. Just call that out, and either Jena or I will pretend to be your gorgeous life partner, Bambi.”
I blink. “You want me to pretend I’m dating a girl named Bambi?”
“Why not?”
“I’d like to think that if I had a girlfriend, she wouldn’t have a stripper name,” I whisper-shout.
Erin shrugs. “You picked it, not me. Now, let’s get a cocktail and scout for hot men.”
She grabs my arm and drags me deeper into the club, where we spot a table of guys paying their tab. Jena asks if they’re leaving, and they stand up to let us have their seats.
The server—a blonde with her hair pulled back into a sleek ponytail—finishes with their credit card and looks at us.
“I’m Heather. I’ll just get these out of your way, and I’ll be right back to take your order.
There’s a drink menu on the table with our specialty cocktails, and we have just about any beer you could want on tap or in a bottle.
We also have a few wines, but it’s not a huge list. And if you want food, we have a few items on the back, but the kitchen is backed up, so it may take a little while to get it. ”
“Sounds good,” I say as she grabs the empty glasses left by the guys who just vacated and walks away.
When she returns, she wipes down the tabletop and places a fresh paper coaster in front of each of us and takes our order. Fifteen minutes later, we have cocktails in hand and are enjoying the music until the band takes their first break.
“Maybe you should go try talking to Cody Banks. Rumor has it, he’s single again,” Erin suggests.
I glance toward the side of the stage, where there’s a crowd of stunning young women already vying for the musician’s attention. “Yeah, I think he has more than enough women to chat with,” I reply.
“Well, that’s all right; the night is still young,” Erin says as she raises her glass.