“I love this place,” Dig said, raising his glass in a toast to the ceiling fan. He settled back onto his barstool, eyes already scanning the cocktail menu like he was preparing for another round—or five. “Can we stay forever? Magnolia, is the storage closet available for rent?”
Before she could answer, the door at the back of the bar creaked open. A tall, broad silhouette filled the frame. There was a pause, then the scrape of a box being shoved aside, the clink of bottles, and a string of low, muttered profanity that grew louder with each step.
Magnolia didn’t look up. She poured another glass of sweet tea into a mason jar with steady hands, her voice flat. “That’ll be Charlie.”
Another thump. A grunt. A string of curse words that would make a nun blush. “Magnolia, I swear to God, you need to have someone clear out all these boxes. I can’t get the wine in if I’ve got to hurdle over every single piece of yours and Lee’s crap.”
He stepped into view, stopped short when he saw me, and went perfectly still, eyes locked on mine. Recognition flickered,then confusion. Or annoyance. Possibly abject horror. Hard to tell.
I gave him the kind of careful smile reserved for someone who’s seen you at your worst but hasn’t figured out where they know you from yet.
He didn’t smile back. He stood there, completely still, like someone had hit pause on the movie of his life.
“What are you doing here?” he finally asked, voice low and flat, directed squarely at me.
Dig, still nursing his drink, glanced between us with a spark of curiosity. “Well. This just got interesting.” Then, behind the rim of his glass, he added in a low whisper, “You neglected to mention he’s hot.”
Magnolia tossed a rag over her shoulder and gave me a look. “Ignore my brother,” she said, nodding toward Charlie, who was still planted by the door like he was debating whether or not to bolt. “He barks louder than he bites. How long are you in town?”
Charlie muttered a string of words under his breath that sounded suspiciously like“not wrong.”
“I’m staying with Doyle and Jordan for a little while,” I said, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “Just until I… figure some things out.”
Dig, perched on the stool beside me, took a long sip of his cocktail and, without missing a beat, said, “I’m in town for the weekend, hanging with my baby mama while she gets settled. And it appears she’s doinggreatat making friends already, aren’t you, sweetie?”
He shot me a grin so dazzling it probably should’ve come with a lens flare, then patted my knee like we were starring in some twisted version of domestic bliss.
I jabbed an elbow into his side, hard enough to earn a satisfying yelp.
Magnolia blinked at us. “Oh. Wow. That’s—”
“A lie,” I said quickly, offering a smile that barely passed for polite. “All of it. Except for the part where he’s only here for the weekend. Unfortunately, that one’s true.”
“Rude,” Dig muttered, rubbing his side. “I was going to take you to brunch tomorrow. Now I might fake my own death.”
“You already did that,” I said. “In 2017. After that guy ghosted you and you couldn’t face your co-op shift.”
“That was a spiritual death, Tally. Totally different.”
Charlie looked like he was trying to decide whether to ask more questions or walk straight into the ocean.
He stepped up beside Magnolia, resting one forearm on the bar in practiced comfort, but there was a chip in his armor, in the set of his shoulders, like he couldn’t tell if he was joining a conversation or crashing it.
Magnolia shot him a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it side glance—a quiet littlewell, look who’s participating in group dynamicsmoment.
“So,” Charlie said, voice low and a shade too careful. “You two aren’t… together?”
Dig and I both barked out a laugh at the same time.
“No,” we said in perfect unison.
“But she is my soul mate,” Dig added, clutching his chest with all the theatrical flair he was born with. “We’ve just transcended the need for physical intimacy.”
“Or basic communication skills,” I muttered, elbowing him again.
Magnolia’s brows lifted ever so slightly as she turned to look at her brother. Not with surprise exactly—more like she was trying to clock whatever new social calculus he was running. She passed him a beer from the tap, and he took it without taking his eyes off me.
Charlie didn’t say anything. He watched me over the rim of his glass, his expression unreadable. Almost as if he hadn’t decided yet if I was trouble, or if he already knew I was.
