Oh shit. The room chilled a few degrees. It was enough of a change to distract her from the fact that he’d introduced her as his girlfriend.
Blue eyes narrowed on her. “O’Malley?”
She cleared her throat. “By marriage only. My maiden name’s Harris.”
“Ah.” Kelly tossed a coaster on the bar.
He glanced at Ryan who gave a subtle shake of his head, as if to say her marriage was an off-limits topic.
The bartender let the conversation drop and asked, “What can I get you?”
She hadn’t planned on drinking, but now a beer sounded like a good idea, so she ordered a Guinness. As Kelly stepped away, she pivoted on her stool to glared at Ryan. “Thanks for that.”
“What? It’s your name.” He pressed a kiss on her cheek too fast for her to object. “Missed you today.”
Her gaze reflexively scanned the patrons, looking for any familiar faces. But she supposed the pub was a safe place to show affection, free of her O’Malley in-laws.
Not that she was doing something wrong. She wasn’t married anymore.
Why did she continue to need such reassurance? Reminders, though painful, helped her remember she wasn’t breaking any rules, but they also slid over her like razor blades, seemingly smooth yet slicing her open.
Was dating just a way to figure out how to bleed silently, or would the hurt eventually ease? Or, as a widow, would it cut every time?
One minute. It took only one minute for her thoughts to cycle into a place she didn’t want to go. Shaking off those depressing thoughts, she focused on the present and Ryan’s words clicked.
“You missed me?” Her chest warmed. Her mouth formed a genuine smile, which it often did in his presence.
“Since the minute you left.” He had a way of making her feel special every time they were together.
“I missed you, too.” So much so, she rode her bike here when she’d usually be getting ready for bed.
Kelly returned with her beer then left to take other orders. “So, is he the one that owns this place?”
“Yeah. Well, he runs it. The deed’s still in my dad and uncle’s names. But that’s all changing. They’re selling it.”
“They’re selling the bar?”
Disappointment flashed in Ryan’s eyes. “Kelly’s an artist on the side, but his art’s become such a big deal he doesn’t have time to do that and run the bar. No one else in the family wants the responsibility.”
She noted the frustration in his voice. “You don’t want him to sell it?”
“No, but I can’t afford it. And I have a job at the lumberyard. The double shift thing’s a killer. My other relatives are all too busy with kids and family to run the business.” He shrugged, as if it wasn’t a big deal, but he appeared unmistakably sad. “It’s the end of an era.”
The bar was clearly a nostalgic part of his life. “I’m sorry. That stinks.”
“Tell me about it. I love this place. And if one of us doesn’t keep it, it’ll probably get torn down. Next thing you know, it’ll be a bank or a pharmacy or some other dime a dozen commercial pop-up store.”
“Maybe someone in town will buy it. People need a watering hole.” The O’Malleys were the only ones who avoided the pub. Everyone else practically lived there.
“It’s been in our family for fifty years. The value’s in the nostalgia. Once inspectors and realtors get involved, they’ll probably condemn the building until renovations are made. Add that to the price of the lot and the added cost of buying the O’Malley’s name…” He shook his head. “Even if someone did buy it, it wouldn’t be the same. It makes more fiscal sense to tear it down and build something new.”
He seemed really broken up over the decision. “Change is hard.” She could sympathize.
Since the town elected a new mayor and been awarded a federal grant for some revitalization projects, Main Street had been growing. They used to be a county with one salon, one pub, and one place to buy tractors, which also happened to be the same place the townsfolk bought their jeans and flannel. It was neat watching new stores appear as the town modernized but also weird.
“I heard they’re petitioning for a new town name.” She sipped her beer.
His brow furrowed and it was clear he hadn’t heard. “What? How? Changing the name to what? Center County’s always just been Center County.”
She tried to remember what she’d overheard the guys saying at work. “It has something to do with the revitalization projects happening. With the town attracting so much new business, the council wants to try for more government grants. But Center County’s large and we’re all sort of lumped together with neighboring towns. If the county’s sorted into districts, our numbers look better on paper for funding.” She shrugged, because it didn’t make much difference to her. “It makes sense. I mean, there’s an extreme difference between our neighborhood and the next town over.”