Cooper Town, Ohio.
Home of four-thousand busybodies.
And the stories of me and my brothers and our friends growing up?
Legendary.
There are three Miller boys and one daughter, but don’t let that fool you. My sister caused just as many sleepless nights, and as much mischief, for my parents to ensure their sainthood status for putting up with us all. I’m the oldest, by five minutes, before my twin brother, Cade. We may look identical, but we’re as different as night and day. I’m the serious, broody twin, as many people have referred to me as, while my brother is the life of the party. He’s witty, charismatic, and quick with a smile and can charm the panties off anyone.
Up next is our sister, Charli, short for Charlotte. Growing up with twin older brothers and a younger brother would cause a young girl to shy away from the mischief her rambunctious brothers caused. But not Charli. That girl was the instigator, and often times, the ringleader of Miller family trouble. And don’t get me started on her now, as an adult. Charli is just as much of a troublemaker as she was in our youth.
Finally, there’s Camden bringing up the rear. He’s the baby of the group, nine years younger than my thirty-two years of age. I swear that kid got away with anything and everything growing up, because at that point, our parents were just tired. He’s almost as charismatic as Cade, always having a lady friend to keep him company, much to our mother’s dismay.
So there you have it. The Miller kids, along with their mischievous friends, wreaked havoc on this town. The things we’d done in our youth teeters the line between legendary and outrageous. Want to hear about some of the tales? Just ask any of the guys sitting at the bar right now. Every one of them will have a story about the Cooper Town kids.
I’m quite certain most of this town is surprised any of us turned out to be productive members of society upon adulthood.
Not that I blame them.
I hear a throat clear behind me, causing me to spin around and take in the regulars at the bar. Jarrod waves his empty can, letting me know he’s ready for another. I grab the brew and pop the top before placing it in front of him. “Kind of a slow night,” he says, taking a swig of the beer.
“I prefer it that way, Jarrod,” I state with a chuckle. A slow night usually means no trouble.
He lifts his eyebrows and just grins. “I recall, not that long ago, a certain group of boys who’d come in and always get a little rowdy when they were here.”
I feel my face heat up a bit, knowing he’s talking about me, my brothers, and our friends. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Jarrod.”
He barks out a laugh. “Sure you don’t.”
“I’m ready to cash out, Collin.”
I turn my attention to Tom, who’s sitting with Larry. I go to the register and key in the quantity of beers Guy and I had marked on the piece of paper. “Fifteen bucks,” I tell the man, who pulls cash from his wallet.
Handing over a twenty, he says, “Keep the change.”
I nod and cross off his name on the paper, indicating he’s paid his tab, and slip the five bucks into the tip jar.
Now, our system may not be the most up-to-date way of doing things, but Chuck has always had a level of trust for hisregular customers. We tally their drinks throughout their time here, and then they pay up before leaving. He only lets a select group of patrons do that. Everyone else pays as they order.
“See ya later, guys! I gotta take the missus out to dinner,” he states, earning a round of goodbyes from the others at the bar.
I shake my head, knowing Tom’s wife, Betty, probably isn’t going to be too happy with him for sitting in the bar up to the moment he’s supposed to take her out to dinner, but that’s none of my business. Grabbing the rag, I start to wipe down the bar where he sat, tossing the empty bottle into the trash can to be recycled. Another crack of the bat has the bar erupting into cheers. I glance up at the TV and find the Cardinals within one run now of their rivals.
I take the opportunity to restock the coolers with a few of our most popular brands. My mind returns to the shocking news of Chuck selling. I still can’t believe it. I thought for sure he’d own this place forever. Now he’s selling? And to an outsider? Should be illegal, if you ask me. The last thing we need is someone coming into our little town and changing up a good thing. This place isn’t filled to the brim with patrons seven days a week like the other bar across town, but to me, this is better. It’s familiar and relaxed, and I’d take that over crowded and noisy in a heartbeat.
I hear the door open and close with a thud and movement catches out of the corner of my eye. I glance up and…wow. The most beautiful woman I think I’ve ever seen is walking toward the bar. Her curly blond hair is pulled back in a ponytail and her clothes scream casually comfortable. She’s wearing a pair of blue jeans and an oversized crewneck sweatshirt with a logo on the front. I recognize it right away as a business from a nearby town that sells amazing burgers.
When she takes a seat at the far end of the bar, away from the regulars watching the game, I head in her direction. I toss a coaster in front of her and ask, “What can I getcha?”
She looks at the wall of liquor, her light green eyes shining like emeralds under brilliant sunlight. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen eyes so stunning in my entire life. “Do you have any local beers on tap?”
My eyebrows shoot upward. “Sorry, we don’t.”
She’s disappointed. “Oh, well, you should look into it. There’s a regional brand that originated not too far from here.”
I nod, knowing which one she’s referring to. I’ve actually mentioned it to Chuck a few times in the past, but he never seemed too interested in adding to his lineup. Chuck sticks with what works, and that is usually the tried-and-true staple brands, like Anheuser-Busch, Miller, and Coors. “I’ll mention it again, but the owner is kinda stuck in his ways.”
The blond beauty smiles and says, “Then I’ll have a Coors Light, please.”
