I try to be inconspicuous in my scan of the parking lot as we walk toward the hum of casual conversation. But it’s dark, and there are several green trucks. I don’t see any familiar ones.
“You’ve been here before, right?” Steve loops his arm around my waist, and I try not to stiffen. “It’s a good place. Fun atmosphere. And Muriel and Teddy have owned it forever.”
“You know them? Wait, of course you would.” It only makes sense. They’re all in the fishing industry.
I catch a familiar, deep laugh a moment before a bellow of “Marie!” carries. I couldn’t see Jonah standing among the group before, with it being dark and me wrapped in growing dread. But there he is, Calla beside him. His presence is a life preserver thrown into deep waters, and some of the tension slips from my shoulders.
I check the other people in the circle. Some, I recognize. Locals who always make it out for the McGivneys’ more festive nights. None are Tyler or Reed.
Maybe I’ve lucked out tonight.
I turn to Steve. “I’ll meet you inside?”
A funny look skitters across his face, but it’s quickly gone. “Sure. I’ll grab you a beer.” He kisses my cheek and then diverts his path.
And all I can think about is how that kiss doesn’t stir an ounce of the desire that Tyler’s bristly cheek pressed against mine earlier today did.
Jonah ropes his free arm around my shoulders and pulls me into a side hug. “I thought you weren’t comin’ tonight.”
“Yeah, neither did I, but plans changed.”
He watches Steve slip through the door. “Who’s that guy?”
I smile at the wariness in his voice. “Just a guy.” That maybe I should have introduced to my best friend. I nod toward the rectangular structure and the propane-fueled flames that dance over its surface. “This is fancy.”
The diversion works. “Yeah. This was Calla’s brainchild. Muriel actually listened.”
I shift over to offer her a hug. Her hair smells like strawberries and cream. “How are you feeling?”
“I’m good! This trimester is way easier.”
“Show her,” Jonah goads, holding open Calla’s coat.
I bark with laughter at her sweatshirt and the “future yeti” slogan printed across her adorable pregnant belly. “Did you change your mind about finding out what it is?”
Jonah’s firm head shake answers that.
Calla rolls her eyes at him and then shifts away, her rapt attention on me. “So, just a guy?”
“We’ve been on a few dates.” I shrug. “He’s nice.”
She lowers her voice to a whisper, “In case you care, Tyler’s inside.”
Nerves flutter in my stomach just hearing his name. “I knew he might be coming.”
Her brow pinches with worry. “Are you going to be okay?”
“Honestly?” The fact that I’m standing here, talking about my trepidation concerning a man with Calla of all people, isn’t lost on me. I could continue the lie, but she’ll see right through me. “How long do you think I can hide out here before I’m a complete asshole?”
She winces and smooths her palm over my arm in a simple but comforting gesture. “Not long enough, I’m afraid.”
We last another five minutes around the fire before Calla’s teeth start chattering, and Jonah herds us both toward the door and into peak unease for me.
Outside was calm and casual and chilly. In here, it’s loud and boisterous and toasty, the woodstove blazing with an orange glow. Music plays in the background, but the conversations are too loud for anyone to decipher the song. A medley of spices permeates the air, drifting over from the far side of the room where Muriel and Teddy man a row of tables lined with a dozen chafing dishes.
“I ain’t never seen anyone drop a snow hook and run into the woods with a roll of shit tickets so fast in my life as Earl did!” A man with a straggly beard roars, slapping his hand across Harry Hatchett’s shoulder. The entire group gathered in the center of the Ale House erupts with laughter.
They must be trading old musher stories. There are plenty of them here tonight, some long since retired, but many I recognize from the Iditarod, both mushers and volunteers alike.
Despite my trepidation, the moment I spot Tyler, my heart begins to race. He and Reed are seated at a table, gripping their pints and chuckling at the tales. They haven’t noticed me yet, but this place isn’t that big. It’s only a matter of time.