Kacy cranes her neck forward and eyes the red and yellow neon Grady’s sign plastered to the side of the building. “Family owned?”
I nod, half smiling, unsure if family-owned is a good thing. It wasn’t for my mom. Having a bar with free booze, she drank herself out of a marriage and her life in here. And it wasn’t much better for my wife. She hated everything small town, including my family name.
The girls are eager to get out, so I open the door, both of them practically barreling over the seat and out my door. “Careful, there might—” I don’t finish before Kacy reaches for the door handle, and the second she sets one foot out, she falls flat on her ass. “Shit.”
The girls abandon us and run inside the bar, careless to anything around them.
Quickly rushing around the front of my truck, I slip on the ice and catch myself on my mirror. “Are you okay?”
She’s sitting up. Her hands are covering her face, and I think she’s crying until she drops them to her lap, laughing. She draws in a breath, gasping as the harsh cold probably freezes her damn lungs. “Holy hell, I think I broke my ass.”
“Well, I got a cure for that.” Reaching down, I offer my hand, smiling, waiting to see if she’s going to take it.
Carefully, she places her hand in mine. It’s warm, a vast difference from the air around us. Did I mention she’s still wearing my jacket? She is, and the wind chill makes it cold enough my nipples are practically cutting a hole through my shirt.
As cute as she looks sitting in the snow, eyes glowing and laughter seeping through her, I’m freezing my ass off. I lift her up, and when I do, she’s standing inches from me. All I’d have to do is step forward, and she’d be backed against the side of my truck. I could kiss her, show her what Texas boys are like, but I don’t. Something stops me.
A snowball to my back.
Ice bursts against my back, a sting on impact and showering the ground beneath me in crystalline fragments. Scowling, I turn my head to notice Jace standing on top of the plowed snow, grinning. “It’s cold, yeah?” he yells, arms in the air.
I shoot him a glare, my breath rising in white puffs. “Fuck off.”
That’s when I feel a touch on my stomach, low, just above my waistband, and the words “I could use a drink” are breathed in my ear.
Unprepared for her touch and the effect it’d have on me, my breath catches. My eyes lock on hers, and I fight the urge again to slam her against the truck and kiss the fuck out of her. Or more. She steps to the side, tipping her head toward the building. “You comin’?”
Jace jumps down from the mountain of snow he’s perched on, white flakes in his hair. “He wishes.”
Kacy snorts, carefully walking through the snow, her arms out wide as if she’s going to fly away any second. “Or maybe I do.”
“We’ll see about that.” Jace wraps his arm around Kacy’s shoulder and guides her inside the bar. “You ever been to Texas before, honey?”
Anger pulses through me. I want to rip his arm off her because I’ve yet to hold her like that.
“Nope,” Kacy tells him, working through the last few feet of the snow before they step onto the stone underneath the awning in front of the bar. “First time.”
Jace waggles his dark eyebrows at her. “Well, let’s see if you ever go back to California after this.”
He means after me.
She smiles at him and then back at me. “I might not ever leave.”
Jace looks over his shoulder and makes a motion I’m supposed to understand. I think he’s implying that she’s hot or into me, but whatever the motion is, it doesn’t register with me. I’m too caught up on what she said. I might not ever leave.
That wouldn’t be so bad, would it? What the fuck am I thinking. She’s from California. No way she’s staying here. One look at that big-city wild she has, and I know this small town, too-windy, too-boring life isn’t for her. While it’s intriguing to most who pass through looking for serenity, once this is life and there’s nothing else but flat land and the unbearable winters, they leave.
I know enough not to get my hopes up.
With ’90s country blaring through the bar, I sit at a table with Kacy, empty food trays between us. Pam Tillis is singing about love being maybe being in Memphis, and I watch my girls dancing on the bar. Aunt Tilly must be missing Colt tonight. Her husband passed away last year, and even though it’s been a year, she still plays ’90s country on Friday nights for him.
Seeming to take notice of the Christmas lights strung up around us, Kacy motions to them. “Are they excited for Christmas?”
I drop my head forward, shaking it. I’d completely forgotten with the events of last night that Christmas was in three weeks. “Ecstatic. I promised the girls we’d put up the tree this weekend.”
“I’ve never met anyone like them,” Kacy says, two fingers of Johnny Walker Red Label in a glass at her lips, her eyes on my girls. “They’re… so tiny, but their personalities are sky-high.”
I know exactly what she means. My girls are loved by everyone in this bar. They hustle too. They’ll bring you drinks from the bar for a buck and could probably put themselves through college with this gig on Friday nights. I watch Rhett dancing with Camdyn, and Jace trying to hold his own while Sev hustles him at a game of darts.
Kacy lifts her glass to my beer, her cheeks tinted pink, and neon blue dancing on the side of her face. “I’ve also never met someone like you.”
“I’m not entirely sure that’s a good thing.”
“Where I’m from, it’s a good thing. Everyone you meet in California has a hidden agenda.”
I raise an eyebrow. “And that is?”
“It’s different for everyone, but usually, fuck before you’re fucked.”
Setting my beer on the table, I snort, laughter rolling through me. “That could be taken in a lot of ways.”
“Literally.” Across from me, she leans back in her chair, my jacket draped on the back of it, and all I can look at is the way she’s watching me with rapt attention. As if she’s trying to figure out my secrets. Her blue eyes gleam and lift to over my shoulder. “What’s with him?”
“Who?” I turn my head to see who she’s looking at. All I see is Jace and Sev. She has scissors in her hand, begging to probably cut his hair. “Jace?”
“Yeah.”
“He’s unstable.”
She laughs into the back of her hand, wiping her lips after taking a drink. “Well, I can tell that. Is he married? Girlfriend?”
Jealousy swims in my veins. “Don’t bother.” You can’t miss the bitterness in my tone. I don’t give her any details on him. Because it’s as simple as don’t bother. Many have tried in this town, but he’s about as closed off when it comes to love.
“Oh, I wasn’t….” Shyly, she picks her glass up again and tucks her hair behind her ear with the other. “He’s not my type.”
I try to hide my smile, but it’s a half-assed effort. “And what is?”
There’s a slow roll of her throat as she swallows, but if I had to guess, by the purse of her crimson lips, she’s not lying when she says, “I’m not sure I know exactly what my type is, but not him. Or billionaires.”