2. Chapter Two
Chapter Two
Lance
Owning a bar with your brothers in a small town like this has its ups and downs. Between the customers, ordering supplies, keeping up with the occasional bar fight, and the rowdy young adults who’ve now reached legal drinking age, this place keeps us busy. It’s a good thing I love this place as much as I do.
Working the night shift is the complete opposite of crowded city life, but it’s no less rewarding. During the day, the bar stays open for lunch and dinner, which Kiernan usually handles. Colt—the oldest of us all—takes care of the farm our parents left us when they passed away. I handle the night shift, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.
As I step behind the wooden bar, I feel the old floor creek under each step, and the faint scent of whiskey lingers in the air like usual.
Regulars here find the bar a safe place, a place where they can share the same old stories and gossip spreads like wildfire. The jukebox sits over in the corner, playing a mix of country and rock, setting the tone for the night. There are only a handful of people here, and I know everyone by name. Most of them are here every night.
Billy is a retired sheriff who served this town for many, many years. His usual is a pint of beer he’s nursing at his usual spot at the end of the bar. His aged face tells stories of years spent keeping this town safe. Across from him, Cheyenne, the middle school teacher, grades papers in her quiet corner.
I look down and grab the drink orders that have been placed. The orders are usually simple—a pint of beer for Billy, a glass of wine for Cheyenne, and whatever beer we have on tap for the town’s mechanic, Tom, who just walked in after a long day in the garage.
The conversations are steady, ranging from talk of farms and the latest rumors to memories of the good old days. It’s only a few days until Christmas, so everyone is buzzing about the Christmas festival being held over at the old red barn on Old Man Randy’s farm this year.
My phone rings in my pocket. As I pull it out, I glance down at the caller ID, Robert’s name flashing on the screen. I bring it up to my ear as I answer.
“Hey, man. How’re you?” I ask as I lean back against the counter, my eyes scanning the crowd.
“I’m doing good, man. Listen, Kallie is staying at the cabin. She’s going through some kind of rough patch right now,” he says and lets out a long sigh. I know how close he and Kallie are, so I’m sure seeing her going through something he can’t fix is driving him crazy.
“She told me she was thinking about dropping by the bar. Can you do me a favor and keep an eye on her? I don’t need her getting herself into something she’ll regret,” he asks. It has been a few years since I’ve seen my best friend's daughter. The last time had to be her birthday. She had just turned twenty-one, and Robert and Reba—Robert’s wife—had a small get-together.
After I assure him I will, I hang up just as the door to the bar chimes. When I look up, I’m met with the exact girl I was just thinking about. Her long, brown hair rolls in waves over her shoulders as she clutches her coat around her tighter to help take the chill off. Woah . She was obviously beautiful the last time I saw her, but now? I’m not entirely sure what changed, but holy shit. I feel like I’m seeing her in a completely different light—a light I have no business looking at her in.
My brother, Kiernan, bumps into me, breaking my intense staring at Kallie, and my hand automatically grabs the rag, wiping down the counter like I wasn’t just checking out my best friend’s daughter.
“Hey, brother. You got a little…” Kiernan points to my face. “Drool there.”
“Fuck off, Kier.” He only laughs as I throw the rag at him as he gets on with serving drinks.
I sneak another look from the corner of my eye as she makes her way closer and plops herself down on one of the stools in front of the bar.
Kallie
The chatter and the clinking of glasses blend into the background, along with the country song playing from the jukebox, drowning out the harsh memories of my week. I make my way to the bar and pull my coat together, trying to fight off the shivers.
Taking a seat on a worn barstool, I grab a small paper menu just to give me something to do. I know I’m going for something stronger tonight. All I want is to forget everything from the past week and have a good time. Alone. Because it’s definitely not appropriate to hang out with Lance by myself. Right?
His deep, familiar voice hits my ears before I can answer that. “Kallie.” My head shoots up from the menu in my hands.
“Lance!” A genuine smile takes over my face at the sight of him. His dark brown hair is unruly, as if he has been running his fingers through it repeatedly throughout the night, his deep blue eyes captivating. Lance is tall, towering over most people in the bar. He’s lean but with strong muscles that bulge under his shirt. My favorite things about him, though, are the high cheekbones and perfectly cut jawline. The five-o-clock shadow lining his face tells me it has been a few days since he shaved last but, God, does it look good on him.
“How are you? It’s been so long!” I say, my voice growing louder than the music. A smirk graces his handsome face.
“I’m doing good. What would you like to drink? On the house.”
“Whiskey, any kind.” His eyebrows raise, his face shocked, and I internally roll my eyes. He turns without another word, grabbing the whiskey and pouring me a drink before sliding it directly in front of me. I bring the glass to my mouth, enjoying the burn of the alcohol as it goes down.
“Must be a rough night for you to be ordering something like that. I figured you’d be more of a Cosmo or Margarita kinda girl.” I can’t help the laugh-turned-snort that comes out of my mouth. If only he knew.
“Talk about a bad three years. And really, I like all kinds of drinks. There’s one for every occasion, and right now, whiskey is the kind I need.”
He hums in response, clearly not wanting to deal with a younger girl and her stupid drama. I take another sip before saying, “Don’t worry, I don’t want to talk about it.” Another one of his deep laughs hits my ears as I down the rest of my drink. Thankfully, he picks up on my sour mood and pours another generous glass.