The drive to Coffee’s Bar & Grill isn’t a long one, since it sits right off County Road 45. It’s probably a good thing so I don’t chicken out. I haven't dated since I left the city. Not since I walked in on my boyfriend and sister having sex. The first words out of my sister's mouth had been her begging me not to tell our parents. No I’m sorry or any sort of apology. I shake the thoughts from my head. That’s the last headspace I want to be in before I go on this date.
The Sew Be It ladies swear that to get over one man you need to get under another. Not sure if that works if you were never really under the first to begin with. A small fact maybe I should have told them. Plus, I was heartbroken over my sister's betrayal. Not Robert’s. I honestly couldn’t care less about him.
I pull my phone out to look at the picture of Justin again so I’ll be able to recognize him. Probably not a good thing if I keep forgetting what he looks like. I see a handful of texts from the group chat I’m in with the ladies.
I text back letting them know I just got to the coffee bar and it’s too late for me to take a picture of what I’m wearing. That gets me a few grumpy face emojis. Next time I’ll know to send a picture.
When I enter Coffee’s Bar & Grill, I see only two men sitting at the bar and one behind it. The place is dead, but it is a Sunday afternoon. The man behind the bar and the one at the other end turn to glance my way. They’re both older.
I don’t recognize them, but this is a big but small town. Most people know each other, but it has a lot of county land and farms. Plus, I’ve only been here a little under a year.
“Hi.” I lift my hand, giving a small wave.
The one sitting closer to me finally turns to look my way. When my eyes meet his, my stomach gives a flutter at how handsome he is. Way too handsome. The kind that gets you in trouble and breaks your heart. Something about him is vaguely familiar, but I can’t place it. I swear I’ve seen his eyes before.
“Can I get you something to drink?” the man behind the bar asks.
“Coffee with cream and sugar, please.”
“He doesn't have coffee,” the older man at the other end of the bar announces as he lifts his beer and takes a chug.
“I thought—”
“It’s a joke. He hates coffee. About the only thing he doesn’t serve,” the handsome man informs me. “You new around here?” He turns more in his seat to face me. The barstool creaks under his weight. He is built like a tank. He screams cowboy. How have I never seen him around before? I work right in town. I would notice him. He’s hard to miss.
“I suppose. I’m actually supposed to be meeting someone.” I glance toward the back, making sure I didn’t miss anyone.
“A date?” He shifts so he’s all but blocking my view.
“Yeah, we’re supposed to meet here.” I glance at the old clock on the wall. This place doesn’t scream first date, but what do I know? I never really dated. “Now.”
“Blind date?”
“I don’t think it counts as a blind date. It's one of those app things.”
“With who?” the bartender asks, coming closer. Everyone in this town is always wanting to know everything. It’s kind of cute but also annoying at times.
“Justin something.” I reach for my phone to check.
“Justin Marco?” They both speak at the same time.
“Yes! That’s it.” They both make a face. The other man chokes on his beer.
“What are those faces for?” I reach up, touching my necklace.
Before either of them can answer, the bell over the door chimes. I turn to see Justin standing there. He looks like his picture. That’s something at least. Then he opens his mouth.
I understand why they made that face.
CHAPTER 3
BLAKE
“W ell, ain’t you a pretty thing,” Justin booms. He only knows one volume—ten. He slides into the barstool next to the beauty and looks her up and down with obvious appreciation. Unexpected anger blooms through me. “That’s quite a rack you got on you. Your mama give you that?”
“Marco, here.” Ron shoves a beer mug in the other man’s hand as if a beer is going to shut him up. I want to put a fist into his face and maybe remove his eyes.
“Thanks. Bottoms up.” Justin chugs half the booze before slamming down the container onto the bartop with enough force that the beer climbs up the sides and splashes the counter, her hand, and I think it even reaches Ron. “Let’s have some coffee next. You up for some java, honey? Ron has some good quality beans.” Justin chortles at his own joke. “Ha ha. Get it? Beans?”