“Burke,” he corrected, the grin tugging slow.
She laughed. “Right. I’m great—how about you?”
“What are you drinking?”
“A Cosmo would be amazing.”
“That’s doable.” He waved the bartender over. “One Cosmo for the lady.” When it arrived, he handed it to her with mock ceremony.
“Thanks,” she said, smiling as their glasses clinked.
For a heartbeat, her fingers brushed his. Warm. Barely there—but enough to make him want to feel it again.
From the far corner, Scout leaned on the railing, sipping a beer. He caught Burke’s eye, arched a brow, and headed downstairs with a grin that saiddon’t do anything I wouldn’t do.Burke rolled his eyes, amused.
They’d barely started talking when Darcy’s gaze slid past him. A tall man stood near the rail—broad-shouldered, mid-forties, a faint scar cutting through his beard, a faded Denver Broncos cap pulled low. His stare locked on her, unblinking.
A chill rippled through her, fingers tightening around her glass until the cold bit at her skin.Who was that—and why was he staring?
“You okay?” Burke asked quietly.
“Yeah. Fine.” Too quick.
She forced a smile, but unease shot through her.
The band launched intoSweet Home Alabama,and the crowd roared. Burke leaned closer so she could hear him. “How are you liking Sylva?”
She smiled faintly, fingers tracing the rim of her glass. “More than I expected. I’m even thinking of finding a place to rent. The camper’s starting to feel a little small.”
“That’s great,” he said. “Lou can help with that—her daughter Kayla’s a realtor.”
“I’ll have to ask,” she said softly. Her eyes met his, and she shifted. Something warm and uncertain sparked between them before she looked away.
After a moment of quiet, Burke said softly, “You look beautiful tonight.”
Darcy laughed under her breath, realizing he meant it. “Thank you.”
The compliment hung there, quiet but electric.
By her third Cosmo, she groaned. “I should’ve eaten first—I’m a lightweight.”
Burke caught Cassie’s eye. “She’s hungry,” Burke said.“Can we get a table downstairs?”
He reached for her hand as she stood, and a spark shot through her. The main bar was quieter now, lamplight pooling over the worn wood and the glow of Main Street beyond the windows.
As they sat, Burke asked, “So, how was lunch with Emma?”
A flicker of something—fear, maybe—passed through her eyes. It was gone in an instant, but he caught it.
He wanted to ask why, to understand why his great-aunt had been on her mind at all. But the look she gave him—guarded, uncertain—made him ease off.
“I just remembered you said you were meeting her at the courthouse,” he added quickly.
She relaxed. “It was lovely.”
Then her gaze shifted—the man from upstairs. Same flannel, same unblinking stare, that scar. Her chest tightened.Who is he? Could he be watching me? Reporting back to Jason?
They shared appetizers, but Burke kept glancing toward the stranger. He was about to suggest a walk when raised voices erupted. One man swung, sending another crashing into a table.
