“Was that an owl?”
Shea chuckled. He’d been so wrapped up in his guest’s good looks, he’d forgotten where the man came from. “Sure is. He lives up in there.” Shea pointed to the big shade tree. “You’ll probably get a glimpse of him during your stay here.” They reached his pickup. “Climb on in.”
Jake hoisted himself up, and Shea started the engine and pulled away. After a minute of silence, Shea couldn’t stand it any longer.
“What do you do for the company? Have you worked for them long?”
Jake sat with his hands folded, gazing out of the window. “I’m the Human Resources Director. I’ve been with them for over ten years, since I got my master’s. I started out as a temp and worked my way up.”
“Impressive.” Shea swerved to avoid a possum running across the road.
“Shit, what was that?”
“Just a possum.”
They turned onto the main road, Gravel Pike, and from the sneak peeks he managed at Jake as they drove, the man was already busy on his phone.
Probably texting the wife that he got here safely.
They slowed for one of the two traffic lights, and up ahead, Shea could make out the sign for the Round Up. Being that it was Friday night, the parking lot was full and people milled about, catching smokes and chatting. Light and music from the live band spilled out into the night.
“What’s that place?” Jake pointed. “It looks like fun.”
Debatable. If your idea of fun was drinking tequila until you wound up drunk and sleeping in your truck with your body twisted like a pretzel, then yeah, it was as fun as a barrel of monkeys.
“That’s where the locals hang out. They have a band tonight.”
“Can we go?”
Shea’s heart sank. “I figured you’d want someplace nicer. The Round Up is a dive bar.”
“Please? I don’t get to go out much, and I get my fill of all the nice places I can handle in the city. I’d love to experience something authentic.”
The guest was always right, so Shea dipped his head. “Of course. Whatever you like.”
He found a spot on the grass, and he and Jake hopped out of the truck and walked to the front. Shea spotted several friends from the neighboring ranches and raised a hand in greeting.
“Shea, dude. You back again? Make sure you leave some tequila for the rest of us.” Jeremiah slapped him on the ass.
“Funny man.” He knocked shoulders with his friend and hugged Bonnie, Jeremiah’s fiancée. “I need to buy you a medal for putting up with him for so long.”
“He has his good points.”
“You know you love me, darlin’.” Jeremiah chucked her under the chin and cast a friendly gaze at Jake, who stood at Shea’s elbow. “You gonna introduce us, Shea?”
“Oh, yeah, sorry. This is Jake Axelrod from New York. He’s with the retreat at the ranch this weekend. Came in late tonight and was hungry, so we’re gonna get him somethin’ to eat.”
“And you took him here? Man, I know you got bad taste, but the least you coulda done was bring him someplace nicer.”
“Oh, hush, Jeremiah.” Bonnie elbowed her fiancé and beamed a bright smile at Jake. “Hello, I’m Bonnie, and this big lug is Jeremiah. We work at the Moonbeam Ranch, about ten miles up the Pike. Nice to meetcha.”
Jake smiled, and Shea watched him shake their hands without hesitation. Sometimes they had people come who put on airs and didn’t like to mingle with the townsfolk, but Jake didn’t give him that vibe. He seemed like a regular guy.
“Shea planned to, but I told him I’d rather come here. I don’t get to go out much at home, and I have enough company dinners and meetings in ‘nice’ places.” He made air quotes. “I’d much rather sit and relax and have a drink with local people.”
“Then you’ve come to the right place, my friend. It don’t get much more real than the Round Up.” Jeremiah leaned in to whisper in Jake’s ear but spoke loud enough that Shea could hear. “Just keep Shea away from the tequila.”
Jake shot him a look, and with a grimace, Shea flipped Jeremiah the bird.
