Toby and I went on two official dates last year, and then we didn’t go on any more. There weren’t any awkward conversations, any “it’s not you, it’s me” excuses. I’m not sure if Toby felt anything for me, but I didn’t feel anything beyond friendship for him, and I think he figured that out when I deftly avoided a good-night kiss.
I think he also figured out where my heart loitered, struggling to let go.
But friends, we’ve remained, because I enjoy his easygoing demeanor.
“That’s all it is. I promise.”
The door creaks, and I swivel on my bar stool to check the newcomers. I don’t recognize them. Fishermen, from the lower forty-eight, probably.
“Who are you expectin’？” Toby asks.
“No one.”
“Is that why you look so nice tonight? For no one?”
“I look the same as I always do.” Except with makeup and an attempt at loose waves and a casual black summer dress that I reserve for nights out—few and far between.
“And you keep lookin’ at the door.”
I suck back a gulp of beer to avoid answering, earning his chuckle.
Toby’s father, Teddy, waddles over to this side of the bar, his thumbs hooked behind his orange suspenders, his frown aimed across the room. “How old is Agnes’s girl again?”
As if part of a perfectly timed stage production, Muriel barrels through the saloon doors with a rack of freshly washed beer glasses in her grip, catching his question. “Mabel is fourteen, and she’s gonna be puttin’ some time in around here this summer, so learn her name, would ya?”
Fourteen, though she could easily pass for sixteen, with her tall, graceful figure and the sleek new bob that highlights an emerging angular jawline. As childhood gives way to adulthood, it’s evident that she’s inherited a flattering mix of both Agnes and her father, a pilot who died in a crash a few months before she was born.
“Around here?” Teddy threads his fingers through his long white beard, a core part of his costume when he plays Santa at the town Christmas party every year. “Doin’ what?”
The glasses clang noisily as she drops them onto the counter. “Cleanin’ rooms and stayin’ out of trouble.” And nothing in Muriel’s tone suggests that’s up for discussion. She’s already decided.
I watch the trio behind the bar. I knew the McGivneys were my kind of people the moment I saw the All Dogs Welcome mat outside the front door. I realize now how much I’ve missed them.
This.
Maybe I have unintentionally made myself too scarce around here.
Muriel’s shrewd gaze passes over me. “You look extra lovely tonight, Marie.” As quickly as she swooped in, she strolls away, her wide hips swinging with each step.
Toby smirks knowingly at me.
“Oh, I remember the kind of trouble you teenagers were.” Teddy waggles his finger at his son and warns, “Don’t serve her. She’s underage.”
“I’ll try my best not to.” Toby shakes his head at his father’s back, earning my chuckle. He leans his bulky frame over the bar. “Hey, so I heard through the grapevine that the Hatchetts found themselves a new veterinarian.”
I’m caught off guard. Sometimes I forget how small the mushing community is. And how loud a tiny woman like Bonnie Hatchett can be. I didn’t want to talk about this tonight, but I’ve complained to Toby about that situation before. “Yup. A four-decade relationship down the toilet.”
Toby whistles.
“And all because Harry’s an entitled jerk who thinks he owns me.”
A subtle cedar-and-citrus scent catches my nose a second before a deep male voice purrs, “I could have told you that about him,” in my ear.
The fatigue that has weighed on me all night evaporates as I turn to find Tyler standing beside me.
“You look nice.” He nods toward the empty bar stool. “You saving this for me?”
“No, but you can have it.”
He sheds his black-and-tan plaid jacket and tosses it onto a hook before easing his jeans-clad bottom half beside me.
I do my best to ignore my racing heart and Toby’s obnoxious grin.
“One of these, please.” Tyler points to the local IPA on tap before shifting back to me. “What has Harry done now?” Those hazel eyes glow with liquid gold undertones against the color of his forest green shirt. Did he know they would when he dressed for tonight, or is it just a coincidence meant to torture me?
I clear my throat, struggling to maintain an aloof demeanor. “Doesn’t matter.” I don’t want to start this night off making Tyler angry. “I’m surprised you made it.”