O’Malley’s needed to rebrand and get with the times, cater to the younger crowd. Perrin was all over that—in a sort of trash to treasure way. She’d been researching affordable ideas to hit that earthy hot spot vibe that was trending.
“Yo, Perrin!”
Before she could turn, her body was hoisted into the air and the bar spun. “Put me down!” Then the bear-hug came, and she recognized the giant arms squeezed around her waist. “Luke.”
He dropped her back to her feet and gave an unabashed grin. “Hey, beautiful. How’s it going?”
“Busy. Can’t you tell?”
He followed her back to the bar. “Busy’s good. No Ryan tonight?”
“No. He and Maggie are having a date night.” She used air quotes to show her disregard for such rituals. Ryan and Maggie were married. Wasn’t every encounter a date?
She slid Luke a beer, and he took a long sip, eyeing her with plenty of palpable judgement. “Bitter’s a bad color on you.”
“Who says I’m bitter?” She was. It wasn’t a secret. But she liked to know who was talking crap, so she could mind her six.
Luke chuckled, deciding not to respond and eyed the crowd. The band had started to play, which meant more people dancing and less drink orders for a few minutes. “You need a hand?”
“It’s calm right now. But if it picks back up…” She leaned on the bar, taking some of the weight off her tired feet. “Where’s Tristan?”
“He’s helping Alexia with her school project. She has to build a diorama, and apparently, to my husband, that means power tools and upcycling anything we’re not using around the house.”
She smiled, because they were possibly the cutest blended family in the world. Luke wasn’t Alexia’s biological father, but Tristan, Luke’s husband, had stepped up when Luke’s brother-in-law, Alec, had been unable to get Sheilagh pregnant. So although Luke didn’t share Tristan’s biological link to Alexia, he still treated her as his own, so Alexia technically had three fathers who spoiled her rotten—Luke, Tristan, and Alec. Poor girl was going to have a hell of a time dating when the time came.
The door opened, drawing her attention, as a tall man with a head of black hair stepped in. Another New Yorker. She could always tell by the clothes and polished appearance of their skin. The locals tended to favor denim, cotton, and flannel. They also had skin that seemed slightly…weathered. More sun, less makeup, and plenty of freckles from outdoor work.
Luke studied the man as he sat down at the bar. She shot him a look and hid a smirk, silently agreeing that the newcomer was worth looking at.
Despite his overly GQ clothing, his dark eyes hid something rugged. Something that drew a girl in as much as it warned her to stay away. He slid a black card across the bar.
“I’ll take a glass of Glenfiddich, please.”
Wow. That voice cut through her like a knife through butter on a hot day. She shook her head and cleared her throat. “Glen what?”
His full lips curved into a half smile. “Glenfiddich. It’s Scotch.”
“Oh.” She placed an O’Malley’s coaster in front of him. “Sorry. We don’t carry that. And we don’t accept this.” She pushed his card back. “Can I get you a standard whiskey? We have Jameson and Tully. Or if you prefer Scotch, we have Dewar’s.”
He nodded without any show of irritation. “Dewar’s. Neat.”
She poured the drink, and when she turned back around, a fifty rested on the bar. She quickly changed it out.
Luke eyed the newcomer. “You coming in from New York?”
“Houston.”
His brows shot up in surprise. They didn’t usually get visitors from that far south.
“My husband’s from Texas,” Luke said, eyeing the man for any unwanted reaction. It was well-known that Luke and Tristan had faced their fair share of harassment back in the day.
The locals had done a good job of chasing the bigots out of Jasper Falls, but with so many newcomers, one never knew who they were dealing with. The world was a crazy, sometimes hateful, place.
Surprise flashed in the man’s dark eyes, but he made no other physical response. “Which part?”
“A little backwoods town called Luckenbach.”
“Yeah, I know where that is. Just outside of Fredericksburg, right?”
“Right.” Luke put down his beer and held out a hand. “Luke McCullough.”
“Gage King.”
Perrin drew in a breath, and the testosterone coming off the two of them nearly choked her.
“This here is Perrin. She owns the bar.”
Gage tipped his head in a casual nod. “Perrin.”
“Hi.” She couldn’t quite work out a bigger greeting, because her brain seemed to have disintegrated into ash the moment he locked eyes with her. As the corners of his mouth curved upward, her ovaries exploded. “I gotta go check a…thing.”
Shooting a thumb over her shoulder, she escaped to the kitchen. Sue was rummaging through the back freezer, cursing as she jostled several filled bins.