He winces, “There’s someone.” He says confidently a moment later, “There has to be.”
I scoff at his optimism and follow his lead, climbing from the truck. It’s nine p.m., and for a sleepy Montana town, it’s surprisingly busy, or rather, the Sunstone Saloon is, but that’s probably because it’s the only bar that opens late in this place. All the other cafes and diners close up at eight. There are people queuing out thedoor or standing to the side as they smoke their cigarettes and drink their beers, speaking loudly, but it doesn’t take them long to notice us. I don’t come into town all that often. I have everything I need at Knight Falls, and if I don’t have it, I have people who can get it. Their attention turns our way, and half of them start talking to us like we’re long-lost friends who haven’t seen each other for a while. I put on a show but move on quickly, slipping in through the door to find it even busier inside.
“Grab a table.” I tug my hat lower, “I’ll get the drinks.”
Silas nods and moves through the crowd toward an empty booth beneath a large photograph of one of the mines just north of here, and I go to the bar, watching the servers work quickly to fulfill orders. Food is constantly coming out of the side door, the smell making my stomach growl in response. I snatch a menu from the holder and start reading it.
“What can I get you?” I lift my eyes to the voice, my head snapping back when I see who is standing in front of me.
Wide blue eyes stare back, and pretty red lips part in shock. “What are you doing here?” Her voice rushes from her, and she glances at the door before her skin goes as white as the napkins on the bar. “Oh god. I’m sorry! It won’t happen again.”
My brows lower in confusion. “What?”
She swallows, “I won’t swim again. Please, I’m sorry, I just — I like to swim and it’s so quiet there and it just gives me a minute, you know!?”
“Slow down.” I ease her, “I just want to order a drink.”
She blinks slowly, her long lashes fluttering. She searches my face for a moment, a knot forming between her brows. “You’re not having me arrested?”
A loud laugh bursts from me, the sound so foreign to my own ears that I wonder if it even came from me. “Arrested? No, I’m not having you arrested.”
“Are you sure?”
I cock my head as I study her. She looks different here, not as light. There’s tension in her shoulders and a little crease between her brows. Her dark hair is braided and pulled over one shoulder, and she’s wearing a Sunstone Saloon branded tee that’s tied up around the waist, showing a sliver of skin between the hem and the waistband of her jeans. It’s difficult to forget how that skin looked in the morning light, with water beads rolling over it, tracing all her curves and valleys.
Clearing my throat, I push that vision away and answer, “Why would I?”
Confusion tugs her brows lower, that crease deepening, making my fingers itch with the need to smooth it out for her, release that tension. “For swimming.”
I shrug like it isn’t a big deal she’s using my ranch as her own personal pool. “I just want a drink and maybe some food.”
Damn, she really is pretty, the kind of pretty you can’t look away from. She's captivating; everywhere you look, you notice something different, like the small scar on her chin, or the way the low light of the bar turns her eyes from that turquoise blue to a deep stormy sea.
“Oh, well,” She shakes her head as if clearing it, taking her eyes away from me, and taps on the monitor in front of her. “What can I get you?”
“Two Jamesons,” I order and hand over my card.
She swipes my card and hands it back before she turns and makes the drinks. Laying two napkins down, she places the glasses on top. “Food’s served ‘til ten. You need to order at the bar.”
“Got it,” I nod and watch her walk away quickly, disappearing behind a door and out of view. I roll my lips inwards to stifle the chuckle that wants to slip out and head back to Silas with the drinks.
“What the fuck are you grinning at?” He grunts, taking the drink from my hand. “It’s weird.”
“You know who she is?”
“Who?”
“The girl who served me.”
“Niamh?” Silas glances back to the bar, but the woman hasn’t returned from wherever she went to hide.
“Niamh.” I repeat her name, letting the sound roll over my tongue. Should have figured she’d have a pretty name to match.
“Mm,” He nods. “Niamh Calloway, this is her place.”
There’s an unfamiliar heat unfurling in my gut as I stare at my brother. How does he know who she is? It doesn’t matter that my brother practically knows everything that happens in this town, that’s his thing after all, it only matters that he knows whosheis and I don’t understand why that bothers me.
“Why?” He pries, sensingthe switch.
