He taped the last poster to the glass and stepped back to admire their work. “What are you doing tomorrow?”
She gathered the markers. “I have church and brunch at my aunt’s then some family stuff. You’re better off waiting to start the sale until Monday. Town’s pretty dead on Sundays.”
“You don’t work tomorrow?”
“No. I’m off on Mondays, so I can help you a little. If you want—”
“Thanks.” He accepted her offer before she even got the words out.
She capped the red marker and stood, brushing the dust off her clothes. “You’re sure about these prices?” Eighty percent off a riding mower was a steal.
His hands were back in his pockets and he continued to stare out the front window. “I just want it done, so I can get out of here.”
A smile reflexively covered her mouth to hide how much his comment hurt. “Right.”
He turned, as if realizing what he’d just said. “It has nothing to do with you.”
It never does.
“Well,” she said with false cheer, turning to gather up the rest of the art supplies.
He caught her arm, but she couldn’t bring herself to look at him. “I appreciate this, Mariella.”
“We’re friends. We help each other.”
His thumb dragged over her sleeve. “You’re a better friend to me than I’ve ever been to you.”
She couldn’t deny it so she wouldn’t.
“Let me buy you dinner as a thank you.”
She drew in a breath, preparing to exhale an excuse.
“Please. It’s the least I can do.” He smiled. “It’s Cinco de Mayo. There’s a place in town advertising bucket margaritas.”
That would be Tequila Mockingbird’s. And while alcohol was not wise, it seemed to be exactly what she needed at that moment. Releasing the tight hold she’d kept on her resolve, brought an instant relief. It was so much easier not to fight her attraction, but giving in would no doubt prove harder in the long run.
“Okay.”
His smile widened and he shut out the lights, dousing the store in shadows. “Let’s get out of here.”
Tequila Mockingbird’s was slammed. There was more than an hour wait and the line snaked out the door. “Sorry, I should have expected this.”
“Why should you be sorry?”
“We can go somewhere else.”
His mood had completely changed since leaving the hardware store, and he waved away her words. “I don’t mind waiting.”
At least they were serving drinks to those in line.
Tables and chairs dotted the sidewalk, and servers kept a steady flow of chips and salsa coming out to those waiting to get in. Harrison ordered them each a starter cocktail, and once the alcohol hit her system her anxiety disappeared.
She sipped from the thick straw, her gums jumping at the tart strawberry jalapeño mixture. Her eyes widened when she spotted her cousin.
“Ryan!” She gave him and his wife a quick hug. “Hi, Maggie.”
Ryan did a double take. “Harrison?”
Harrison gave a brief nod. “Hey.”
“Holy crap. How have you been? Where have you been?”
Harrison’s demeanor tightened as he uncomfortably explained his decade-long absence. “I’ve been living in New York.” He glanced at Maggie. “I was sorry to hear about Nash.”
Maggie was sweet and a little shy, but always nice. Despite everything that happened between Mariella and her sister, Perrin, she never treated Mariella differently.
“It’s been a long time,” Maggie said by way of acknowledging the inevitable passing of time and the fact that she still grieved the loss of her first husband. “Are you married? Any kids?”
“No,” Harrison answered quickly. “I operate better when I’m solo.”
Ryan glanced at Mariella. “You guys grabbing some tacos?”
“I’m mainly here for the margaritas.” She took a long sip and laughed.
“Careful, cuz. They sneak up on you.”
“That’s what I’m hoping.”
Ryan turned his attention back to Harrison. “We’re having a game tomorrow after brunch. You should come.”
Mariella did a double take at her cousin’s offer. The game was a family tradition, something to kick off the season. Outsiders were rarely included, unless they were someone’s significant other. That wasn’t a proper label for Harrison.
She expected him to decline, but he surprised her by asking, “What kind of game?”
“Baseball. Up at the field on the mountain. You’re going, right, Mar?”
“Of course.” It was tradition, something to celebrate all the younger relatives finally returning home from college.
“You should come, Harrison.” Ryan glanced at his phone when it buzzed again. “Well, we’re heading in. Our table’s ready. See you tomorrow, Mar.”
“See ya.” Her cousin disappeared, and she turned to Harrison. “You don’t have to go if you don’t want to.”
“I like baseball.”
“Oh. Okay. Well, then you’re more than welcome to play.”
He cocked his head. “Would you rather I didn’t go?”
“I don’t care what you do.”
“Ouch.” He laughed, drawing his margarita to his lips.
“I just mean, do what you want. Lots of people will be there.” Namely, her entire family. She didn’t want anyone getting the wrong impression, which—now that she thought about it—there was a one thousand percent possibility they would misread the situation. “I never bring guys around my family.”