"That's fine. I'll see you at seven." I finish eating my pie and paying for all of the desserts. I spend a few minutes talking to Tara before she starts to get busy, and I let her get back to work. Just like every other time, I hate walking out the door without her, but at least now I know I'll be seeing her later tonight.
Chapter 6
Tara
I pull into a parking spot on the main road right down from The Whiskey Whistler. As if Jason had been expecting me, he walks up to my car and helps me out. I'm a nervous wreck and have been this whole afternoon. I'm pretty sure I drove Becca crazy. When I got home, I went through my whole closet, trying to find something to wear. And it looks as if my closet exploded all over my bed.
I decided not to wear a dress or heels. Instead, I thought it would be best to just stay true to who I am. So jeans, my ankle boots, and a fitted shirt is what I decided on. And by the way his eyes roam my body appreciatively, I think I made the right choice. "You look good, Mama."
I smile up at him, "Thanks. You look pretty good yourself."
I walk next to him toward the bar and look at him out of the side of my eye. He has on jeans, a T-shirt, and his motorcycle vest. He opens the door for me, and we walk in. The country music is loud tonight, and people are laughing and talking all around us. We find an empty table and sit down.
He surprises me when he sits next to me instead of across from me. I look at him questioningly. He just shrugs his shoulders. "I'm going to want to keep you close."
I pick up one of the small menus that is standing up in the middle of the table. "What are you going to get?" I ask him.
He turns toward me, his body angled toward mine now. "I don't know. I heard they had good hamburgers."
He's smirking at me as I remember our conversation from earlier. "They do have good hamburgers. You just wait and see."
The waitress comes, we turn in our order, and I turn to him. He puts his hands on my legs and positions me so that my legs are fitted between the two of his. We're seated closely together. "All right, so you know about me. Why don't you tell me about you now?"
I shrug, sort of embarrassed because there's not a lot to say. "Well, let's see. I started working at Sugar Glaze when I was in high school and have worked there ever since. My mom passed away when I was little, and I was raised by my dad. He died last year from cancer. He left me my house. It's up in the mountain. A part of me wishes I lived closer to town, but I don't think that I could ever really let my home go. I have a lot of memories there with my dad."
His hand goes to my knee, and he squeezes there. "I'm sorry."
It's just two words, but I see the sincerity in his face. I know after hearing about his mom and dad that he probably understands what it's like to be alone in this world. I'm about to tell him it's okay, that my dad had suffered for a long time and I'm glad that he’s no longer in pain, but I don't get the chance because Walker walks up to the table. "Hey, Tara, Hey Jason, how's it going? How's the move?"
I blink at the two men as they have a full conversation. Walker is well known in our town. Heck, he probably owns half of it. How does Jason already know him? I wait for them to finish their conversation, and Walker says he needs to get back over to his wife. I wave across the room at Brooklyn, and she waves back.
It’s on the tip of my tongue to ask him about it, but I know it's none of my business, but when Walker walks away, I can’t seem to keep it in. "How do you know Walker?"
Jason shrugs and tries to play it off. "Walker's company was originally in Texas. We worked together some there, and we'll probably do the same now that we're in Whiskey Run."
My mind starts to go a hundred miles a minute. No one knows exactly what Walker does at his compound out on the highway. Of course, there are rumors. The most I've discovered was from Emery. She is married to Nash, who used to be one of the founding owners of the company. Emery is the one that owns Sugar Glaze Bakery. And the only thing that she's ever said is that they help people. A part of me wonders if it's some kind of top-secret military thing, but again, that could just be my wild imagination working overtime.