Maggie gave out a hoot. “And you were worried about us causing trouble? The three of you are surely plotting to take on some overlord tonight.”
Lou scoffed. “As if one would dare mess with us.”
I laughed as I looked from Jeanie and Hattie, who were singing along to the Chris Stapleton music that was playing, to Lou. Just then, my attention was snagged by a gorgeous man walking into the brewery.Hello.He could’ve literally walked right out of one of my romance books. Tousled honey-brown hair and, when he looked my way, piercing blue-gray eyes. He had stubble that indicated he didn’t shave daily but did often enough that he wasn’t sporting a full beard. And ignore my exploding ovaries—he was holding the hand of an adorable little girl. Why were competent dads such a turn-on? Do men get hot and bothered by decent moms? Fucking patriarchy. Bring on the matriarchy.
The little girl looked to be somewhere around five and had a style that was clearly all her own. Her leggings were striped, her outfit complete with sparkly rain boots, a tutu, and a purple hoodie. A blond woman was walking ahead of him, and I couldn’t help but feel disappointed. Like this guy would be interested in me. Clearly I needed to get over myself.
Just then, another guy joined them. He also had dark hair but was a few inches taller and had a baby strapped to his chest. Hot guy number two leaned over and kissed the blonde beforeputting his hand on her lower back and leading her to another couch-and-armchair grouping in the corner of the bar. Smart man. I noted that the little girl let go of hot guy numero uno’s hand and immediately went to the floor in the corner and began to spread out her coloring supplies.
I was drawn to the little family and, I had to admit, a little captivated by them. Maybe it was because I was in the midst of character development for my fifth book, but I couldn’t help but draft a narrative for them in my head. In my dream world, the second guy and the woman were together. The baby was theirs. But the five-year-old looked enough like the woman that she had to be her mom. So who was that first guy? An uncle? Or could I dream up a friendship between the adults, leaving mystery man number one available for accountants who moonlight as romance authors?
“Earth to Jules…”
I looked over to Maggie to see that she was watching me expectantly. Scratch that, so was the whole table, including Lou. Crap. Crap. Crappity crap. This wasn’t good. If Lou got any ideas…
“See something that interests you?” Lou asked with a waggle of her eyebrows.
Damn, too late. One did not covet the focus of Lou Williams. Nope. It was far preferable to fly under the radar with my aunt.
“Hmm?” I worked to play ignorant. “Sorry, I didn’t hear you. Tired, you know. Tax season.” There. That was an acceptable excuse this time of year.
Lou watched me with an assessing glance. Then her smile became what could only be described as wicked. “Noah,” she called at a volume that spoke to football games, not standing inside a brewery.
Shit. Hot guy number one looked over from his spot in the corner and smiled warmly at Lou. He tilted his head as if to ask why she was bellowing across the room at him.
Lou simply waved him over. The man turned to say something to his dinner companions as well as the little girl, then headed in our direction as the blonde waved in our table’s general direction and the women I was sitting with waved back to her.
Mortification, party of one. Your table is now ready. I felt heat racing up my neck to my face. Redness commencing in three… two… one…
“Hey ladies,” Mystery Man, now known as Noah, said when he reached our table. His name was familiar to me, though I wasn’t sure why. Then he looked to Lou. “Causing trouble again, Ms. Lou?”
“Don’t you know it.” Her eyes sparkled. That was the only way to describe them, and after knowing the woman all my life, I knew what it meant. She was scheming.
My brain chose that moment as the time to hit me with a memory. Really just a flash of one. My stomach sank as it came rushing back. Two weeks ago, when I first arrived in Highland Falls, I’d come to the brewery with Lou and her friends. That was the night I’d briefly met Maeve, who’d made a comment to Levi about introducing me to her friends and given me her number. And then my ever-interfering aunt had said something about making sure a Noah was on the guest list. Wild guess that this was the Noah she’d referred to.
I had no words. Illinois was not known for chasms opening and swallowing people, but a girl could dream. I felt like not only had Lou been trying to arrange friendships for me, but now she clearly wanted to fix me up. I mean, bravo on the guy—he was my dream man come to life—but how pathetic did that make me?
“Noah, I believe you know what time of year it is,” Lou began.
Oh, sweet Lord, I had a feeling I knew where this was going.
“Lou…” I warned in a severe tone hoping she’d get the message. Shots fired across the bow, but the woman gave zero fucks. I could feel the eyes of everyone on the table pinballing from Noah to Lou, to me, back to Noah.
Noah gave Lou a quizzical look, then scanned the faces of the women I was with before coming to stop on me. His expression was warm with something else there, but he looked back to Lou before I could think on it more. I was too busy cataloging the man’s eyes as stormy sea blue and debating how I’d describe his hair in a novel. It helped me ignore the nausea welling up at Lou’s matchmaking games. Tousled? Artfully messed up? Dark blond or honey brown? Long enough to hold on to. Damn, down girl. The correct description didn’t exist, but I’d workshop it.
“Springtime?” Noah answered Lou’s question about the time of year. Bless his innocent soul. Would he make a good cinnamon-roll hero? I felt certain of it.
“True, it is spring…” Lou replied. Then, with a sly glance in my direction, she asked the question I’d known was coming. “However, I was thinking about something else. Who does your tax preparation?”
Someone at the table let out a snort of laughter. Okay, a few someones, but not me.
Yeah, that was a normal, everyday kind of conversation and not out of the blue at all. I slid my head down on the table as I felt Maeve pat my back in commiseration.
“You can’t be surprised,” she whispered.
True, I really couldn’t be. Didn’t change the desire to hide, but I’d work though that as soon as Noah fled our table.
Chapter 4
