Much Ado About You

The rejection from Aaron was less than a week old. My pride had healed, and I realized my hope of finding love had been crushed more than my hope of finding love with Aaron, but that didn’t mean I was ready to put myself out there again.

Especially not with a man I’d never see after my visit to England was up.

A sound similar to that of a motorbike drew my gaze from the water and my attention from my musings. From the brow of the hill before the main street of the village appeared a woman.

On a quad bike.

She blew past me and turned left toward the road that led out of Alnster.

The image of her made me smile.

She wore no helmet, her blond curly hair blowing behind her on the breeze, her open jacket fluttering in the wind as she confidently rode the quad bike like she did it every day.

And I got the feeling she did.

How badass.

Was she a local? If so, I wondered if I’d get to meet her.

The parking lot of The Anchor was worryingly busy, suggesting I might not get a table. Those fears were supported by the wave of warmth and the loud murmur of voices that hit me as I stepped inside.

The pub was packed with people dining.

I stared around, more than a little bemused that such a tiny village could have such a busy pub. Sure, I’d understand if it were the height of summer and tourists were crawling all over the place . . .

“Evie.” Milly drew my gaze as she strode toward me behind the bar. Almost every stool at the bar was occupied. “In for tea?”

It took me a moment to realize “tea” meant dinner. Stepping up to the end of the bar, I gave her a weak smile. “It doesn’t look like there’s a table.” And I was hungry. So, so hungry. The smell of delicious food was intoxicating me.

“Not to brag, lass, but my Dexter’s food is known all over Northumberland. We keep busy at teatime. If you want to eat here, you let me know and I’ll reserve a table for you. For now, if you’re happy to, you can eat at the bar.”

I nodded eagerly. “Yeah, please.”

Perhaps my relief was palpable because Milly chuckled and gestured for me to follow. I rounded the bar, ignoring some men on stools who blatantly ogled my legs.

The second dining room was just as busy as the first.

Sliding onto the stool Milly gestured to, I gave the woman next to me a small smile when she turned to see who her new neighbor was. She returned the smile before giving her attention to the man beside her.

“There, lass.” Milly placed a menu in front of me. “Now what can I get you to drink?”

“Oi, I was next, Milly!” a male voice shouted from the other end of the bar.

She raised an eyebrow in that direction. “I say who’s next in my pub.”

“Fine, but I’m next after Legs,” he shouted back.

Presuming “Legs” was me, I scowled.

“Her name is Evie,” Milly informed him crisply.

I wanted to hide under the bar.

“I prefer Legs.”

“Oh, aye? Do you prefer going somewhere else to drink, man? Because I don’t cater to rudeness in my pub.”

“Aw, I was only joking, Milly. Get the lass a drink and put it on my tab.”

She nodded and turned back to me with a smirk.

“I’ll pay for my own drink,” I replied.

She grinned. “And what will that be?”

“A cider.”

“What kind?”

I shrugged. “Whatever you recommend.”

While Milly disappeared to get my cider, I perused the menu. After googling it, I’d discovered The Anchor, just as Milly had said, was a gastropub. Deciding to continue eating “British,” I ordered the battered haddock and chips, remembering that chips in the UK were like a plumper version of fries, and crisps were what we in the US called chips.

My fish and chips arrived on a wooden tray, the chips served in a miniature frying basket, with sides of tartar sauce and mushy peas in little ceramic pots. Everything was delicious, and although I’d had a fish and chips dish at a British bar in Chicago, the tartar sauce I’d had there didn’t even compare to Dexter’s.

“Enjoying that?” Milly asked as she passed me to serve someone a drink.

I swallowed a chip I’d layered with mushy peas and replied, “Your husband’s a genius.”

She guffawed. “For Christ’s sake, keep your voice down. His ego’s big enough.”

I chuckled at her teasing and continued to clean my plate.

Stuffed full, I wished I were in a chair with a back so I could slump down in sleepy satisfaction. Between the food and jet lag, I was almost ready for bed. Milly took hold of the tray with one hand and popped a smaller menu in front of me with the other. “Dessert.”