“Yeah. Hannah Hastings.”
Jake choked on what sounded like a shocked breath. Finally, the giant man gulped air and let out a loud, shocked chuckle.
“You’re Hannah’s husband?” he asked, that same shock still very present in those three words.
Grant smiled. “Yes, I’m the luckiest man in the world.”
Jake laughed. “Well, shit, friend, we need to take you out for a drink!” Grant thought he heard Jake mutter something like, “And I thought I was in shovel trouble.”
“We?” Grant asked.
Jake nodded. “My buddy Cal, who does the cabins. We were going to the Crow’s Nest tonight for a beer. Usually we go to Goonies, Hannah’s place, but I think a change of scene may be good for you.”
Jake seemed like a good guy, and truth be told, Grant could use a drink. As well as intel on his wife from people who seemed to know her.
“Hannah’s a great woman. Didn’t know any man could tie her down, though,” Jake said.
“Is that why you’re asking me out for a drink? Out of pity?”
Jake smiled. “Not pity—more like camaraderie. I hope the odds are in your favor. But also, my wife is your wife’s best friend. And the minute I tell her that I met you today, she will want to know everything and scold me for not making friends.”
“Ah, well, I guess that makes sense.”
Jake was still smiling. “You’ll catch up on the secret rules of marriage here soon.” Jake smacked his back. “And I can’t wait to get details on how you managed to court her with your balls still intact!”
Honestly, Grant didn’t know, either. His wife was a feisty one. But talking about her like this, like a normal man talking to a friend, made him feel like a part of something for the first time. Like . . . community. Family. Plus, Jake was married to Hannah’s best friend? That was kind of perfect. He wanted to be a part of Hannah’s life, and these people were important to her. Jake was also a cool guy.
Grant picked out a screen door, and Jake smiled. “Should I deliver this to Hannah’s place?”
Grant nodded. “That would be great. And I think I’ll need a bouquet of flowers, too.”
“Ah, man.” Jake laughed. “Hannah landed herself a secret husband who gives her flowers? She’s going to be so pissed when everyone finds out.”
Grant smiled. Anything that would annoy his wife wasn’t exactly a bad thing.
“Five thousand dollars in a week and a half?” Laura asked, swiveling on her bar stool. After Hannah had told her the gist of her problem, she was counting on her best friend to be creative with ways to earn money, since she was the most capable person Hannah knew and might be able to pull something like this off. And because she was the bestest friend ever, Laura had rushed over from her store to come brainstorm and have a sweet tea in Hannah’s bar.
Laura tapped her chin and said, “What about a bake sale?”
“I can’t bake.”
Laura pursed her lips. “True.”
“And I’m not a seventh grader raising money for camp. I’m trying to buy a bar.”
“Well, we’re just brainstorming here,” Laura said in her “don’t give up hope” tone. This was why Hannah had people like Laura in her life. Because she hoped enough for both of them. Her thoughts turned to Grant. He was a hoper, too. He was also stubborn and relentless—and ruthless, even. Not to mention sexy and caring and—
“I need more ideas,” Hannah said, interrupting her train of thought, because it was heading from PG to R in about two seconds.
“Can you knit? Crochet? Ooh! Repurpose old dressers into TV stands?”
Hannah just stared at her friend. “You really need to stop going on Pinterest. It’s a form of online addiction, you know.”
“But everything is so cute and crafty!” Laura defended with a wistful smile.
“Do I look like a crafter?”
Laura looked her over long and hard like she had back when they were in second grade, deciding if she wanted to be friends and play on the monkey bars. Only now, Hannah was hoping she could help her with a real bar.