“Why?” He swivels on the stool to get a better look, forcing his legs apart to make the turn. “Looks like my kind of place.”
One of his thighs presses against mine, his jeans pleasantly rough against my bare skin. I allow it for a few beats, waiting to see if he’ll pull away.
He doesn’t.
And I’m enjoying it too much.
With a slow, calming breath, I shift, putting space between us.
Toby sets the pint down on a paper coaster. “Hey, you’re Tyler Brady, aren’t you?”
Tyler dips his head once.
“Good to have you here at the Ale House.”
“This is Toby. His parents own this place. He runs the mechanics shop, if you ever need something fixed.” I introduce them and then slip into the background while they talk, content to watch Tyler’s attractive profile as he sips his beer, feeling the eyes on my back as whispers of the Iditarod winner’s presence makes its way around the room.
His demeanor is relaxed as he asks Toby questions—how long they’ve been in the area, how many tourists they see in a season, what type of engines he works on. The conversation stays on Toby, and I can’t tell if that’s because Tyler’s truly interested in what he can learn, or if it’s a tactic to keep the dialogue and questions off himself. There’s still so much I don’t know about Tyler.
“I hear we’ve got a world-class champion in our midst!” Muriel appears behind us, her attention locked on Tyler.
I knew it was only a matter of time.
“Glad to see you finally makin’ your way to us.”
We do another round of introductions, and then she backs up. “Well? Come on, then. Everyone wants to meet ya.”
“Uh …” Tyler falters on a suitable answer. He wasn’t expecting the likes of Muriel. No one ever is.
“Here, let me top that up for you.” Toby fills his glass to brimming. “On the house, seein’ as you have to deal with my mother.”
“If you’re trying to avoid attention, you came to the wrong place.” Despite my better judgment, I lean in to whisper, “It’s best you just go with it, champ.”
The tension in his jaw eases, and a crooked smile curls his lips. “You knew this was going to happen, didn’t you?”
“Yes, I did. Have fun.” I tap his full glass with my bottle and then swig from my beer.
The move draws his attention to my mouth—not my intention.
He collects his pint and rises, his thigh brushing against my hip. “Save my seat.”
“I’ll try.” I watch him trail behind Muriel, admiring the shape of his shoulders and his tapered waist.
“So, is that why you’ve been busy?” Toby teases.
“No. We’re just … friends.” I falter over that last word. Despite my best intentions, it’s happening, anyway. We’ve become friends. And I’m wildly attracted to him.
“Right.” With a chuckle, Toby heads off to fill some orders.
And I watch as Muriel drags Tyler from group to group, introducing him as if he’s a special guest for hire, coordinated by Muriel herself. I’ll give him credit; even if he hates the attention, he smiles and laughs with the best of them.
And hides the profound sadness that I’ve caught glimpses of beneath it all.
A commotion stirs behind the bar.
“You forgot the alcohol!” Teddy slaps his son over the shoulder, and with a laugh retrieves the bottle of vodka from beneath the bar—the only hard liquor in this place, and it’s been brought in solely for Calla. “Look at that. You haven’t even opened it yet! Is your head not screwed on tonight?” Teddy cracks the seal on the lid and sets the bottle down on the counter in front of him with a heavy thud.
Toby and Calla share a pointed look. Beside her, Jonah leans against the bar, absently watching while in the midst of a conversation with someone else.
“There. Bet that’ll be a lot stronger. Fix her a new one. A proper one,” Teddy goads, patting the counter so Calla can trade in the drink Toby just handed her for one with alcohol.
She was drinking a martini earlier. This is her second drink—at least. There’s no way she didn’t notice the absence of vodka in the last one.
Unless …
She’s dog-tired.
Can barely stay awake at night.
My breath hitches with the sinking realization.
Jonah has dismissed his conversation entirely and is frowning at his wife, and I can tell he’s walking through the exact same thoughts.