Chapter 10
Chapter Ten
‘Maybe later . . .’
Riley stared at his cellphone, trying to read between the lines of Brooke’s text. They’d been sending messages back and forth all week, just casual notes, but Riley would never admit just how much time and thought went into composing those brief messages.
‘Promises, promises’, he typed back, then paused. What was the deal with these emojis, anyway? He’d spent years developing cutting edge apps and programs, but when it came to the finer points of technology, Riley came up blank.
He was too old for this.
“Hot date?”
His head snapped up. His buddy Cooper was sitting at the bar, a quizzical eyebrow raised.
“None of your business,” Riley replied good-naturedly, then shoved his phone deep in his pocket. “Isn’t it kind of early for you to be drinking?” he asked, strolling over. Cooper was usually on his construction sites until late, working to restore the historical homes on the cape.
“I’m on vacation,” Cooper replied.
Riley snorted. “You?”
“I know.” Cooper smiled. “I’m between projects right now, so Poppy suggested we both take some time to enjoy the summer. Right before her editor sent back notes on her new book,” he added wryly. “So now she’s chained to her laptop and sent me packing. Apparently, my mere presence is distracting.”
“Well, you’re welcome to seek refuge here.” Riley poured him a pint of beer and slid it across the bar.
Cooper took a sip as Riley checked out the rest of the crowd. It was peak season, so even in the afternoon, there were some tourists enjoying a late lunch, and a group of women in the corner taking advantage of the happy hour deal on local wines.
“You ever think about doing something with this place?” Cooper asked.
“Like what?”
“I don’t know,” Cooper mused. “A restaurant, some theme nights . . . The crowds here in summer would jump for that stuff.”
“I don’t need any bells and whistles to get their business.” Riley leaned back against the bar. “Is this your way of telling me you want karaoke nights to become a regular thing? Because that mic is yours anytime you want.”
Cooper gave him a look. “No thanks. I guess I’m just wondering if you ever want to try something different,” he asked thoughtfully. “I mean, you can run this place in your sleep.”
“Which leaves me more time for extra-curricular activities,” Riley pointed out.
Cooper was still waiting, so he shrugged.
“Why make life more complicated than it needs to be? Work so hard, I need two weeks in the summer to call vacation?” he asked.
“Thanks, but I prefer my whole life to be a vacation.”
“You don’t get bored?”
Riley smirked. “Bored of waking up at noon and making my own schedule? Sure, I’m just dying to get back to my morning commute.”
Cooper chuckled. “Fair enough.” He checked his watch. “You think Poppy will be done with her chapter by now?”
“Look at you, itching to get back home.” Riley was amused. He could remember the days when Cooper was a sworn bachelor—before a certain romance author moved to town. “No more late nights and wild partying for you now.”
Cooper gave him a look. “My partying days are long behind me. Thank God. I’d much rather spend the night at home, with a glass of wine and my woman.”
“More fun left for me,” Riley quipped, but he had to admit that sounded pretty good to him too. Especially if the woman in question was a certain blonde events manager . . .
A group of people came to the bar for drinks, and Riley went back to what passed as honest work for him these days.
Pouring beers, chatting to his regulars, ringing up the sales—it was a long way from coding and software in Silicon Valley, that was for sure, but Riley had been out of the rat race so long now, his old life felt like a dream. Or a bad nightmare.
It had been a spur-of-the-moment decision to uproot and move out here.
He was deep in the mess of the lawsuit when his brother insisted he get out of town.
So, Riley flew to Boston on a whim and drove down the coast, trying to clear his head.
A girl he’d met at the beach had invited him for drinks in Sweetbriar Cove one night, he’d seen the for-sale sign by the door of the pub, and—five whiskeys later—had written a check for the down payment and bought the place on a handshake deal.
It made zero sense at all, but after the hammering he’d taken with lawyers and depositions, and the whole damn mess of his former company, Riley just knew that he needed a change.
He’d spent ten years staring at computer screen; here, he picked up the phone to place orders and looked people in the eye to chat.
He liked being a hub for the local community, seeing his friends every Friday night, and after a couple of years, Cooper was right: the pub practically ran itself.
He had a couple of assistant managers and a rotating parade of bartenders just passing through, but basically, the place ran on auto-pilot.
Which was probably why he had so much time on his hands to think about Brooke.
Riley sighed. Was he kidding himself with this whole “just friends” thing? He had plenty of female friends: Mackenzie, Summer, and Poppy, for starters. But didn’t want to do the kinds of things with them he was imagining doing with Brooke?—
“Hi.”
Brooke appeared in front of him so fast, Riley had to pause for a moment to check he wasn’t still having an X-rated fantasy.
Beside her, Larry from the hardware store burped and scratched his bald spot as he read the local newspaper.
Nope. Definitely reality.
“Hey.” Riley smiled at her, his day suddenly way better. “What’s up?”
“Nothing much.” Brooke smiled back, looking effortlessly beautiful in one of her buttoned-up blouses with a skirt that hugged all her curves. Riley tried to drag his gaze away from her body.
Friends don’t check out friends’ asses, he reminded himself sternly.
“So, this is what you do all day.” Brooke looked around. “Holding court with all your buddies.”
Even though Riley had just been boasting how easy he had it, he didn’t want Brooke thinking he was a total slacker. “It’s harder than it looks. Come on, you try it.” He gestured for Brooke to join him on the other side of the bar.
She laughed. “For real?”
“Sure. Let’s see how you handle the fast pace and high pressure of a job like this.”
Brooke circled around, and came to stand beside him. “How was your day?” he asked, resisting the urge to tuck a stray piece of hair behind her ear.
“Great.” She beamed wider. “I landed a massive pitch. It’s going to be total chaos, working around the clock to get it done.”
“And that’s a good thing?” He was only half-kidding.
Brooke laughed. “To me, yes. It’s a huge opportunity,” she explained. “And I love a challenge.”
“Them be fighting words,” Riley cracked. He pulled down a fresh glass, and beckoned her closer. “Pete needs a pint of cider. Ready for your first lesson?”
“Yes, sir,” Brooke said, a flirty edge in her voice.
She leaned in, close enough for him to catch a breath of her perfume, something light and floral.
Riley clenched his jaw. Damn, this was going to be an exercise in self-control.
“Tilt the glass,” he instructed her, “and then pull the lever . . .”
Brooke poured a perfect pint on her first try. “Harder than it looks?” she asked, smiling.
“Beginner’s luck,” he replied. “Try doing that on a busy Friday night, with six people waiting on their drinks.”
“I take it back,” she said, placing the drink on the bar. “You’re a regular hero.”
Riley chuckled. “They should put up a monument in the town square.”
Another lock of hair fell in her eyes, and he couldn’t resist. His hand reached out of its own accord, and gently pushed it out of her face.
Brooke blinked, her eyes locked on his.
The world stilled.
What was it about this woman that sent him from zero to totally distracted in just one breath?
Riley had to hold onto the bar to keep from reaching for her—pulling her close to his body, the way he already knew she fit just right.
Kissing her, the way he’d done that night in the alleyway, before he even knew how good it would be?—
The sound of smashing glass came from across the room. Brooke looked away, breaking the moment, and Riley felt a curious mix of relief and regret.
“Duty calls,” he said, grabbing a dishcloth. “Don’t go anywhere.”