“I guess we’ll find out.”
“One more thing.”
Gus took a long pull from the bottle and settled back into a chair. “What’s that?”
“You and Georgia.”
“We’re done.” Weren’t they?
“You might want to officially end things before she tracks you down and shows up. She’s been blowing up my phone and coming around the office for the last two weeks.”
“We haven’t been a thing for months now.” The woman liked drama. And her coming here wasn’t such a crazy notion.
“Yeah, but then you went and hadrelationsover Memorial Day.”
“It was a blowjob, and I was four whiskeys deep.”
Walker grinned and joined him, taking a seat across from Gus. “That still counts for women.”
“Yeah?” he asked.
“Yeah,” Walker replied.
“Shit,” he muttered, sitting back.
“I hear ya.”
Gus looked up at the night sky. He remembered nights when he’d been deep in enemy territory, and the same moon that shone down on him now had hung in a sky full of sorrow. A sky that had witnessed the kind of things that laid down scars on a man. Some nights, that moon was the only thing that anchored him.
The two men sat in the kind of silence that men were used to. It was full of things unsaid, and the shadows that crept over each of them were as dark as the thoughts hidden in the corners of their minds.
For now, the silence was enough. It was familiar. For Gus, it was all he had.
Chapter Eight
Patriotism in Fire Lake was something to behold. Red, white, and blue were everywhere. Even Sprinkles and Cream offered donuts with white butter frosting and red and blue candies as toppers. There were flags. Signs. Blow-up Uncle Sams seemed to be particularly popular for front yards.
But as important as the Fourth of July was, the night before was equally so. A street dance was held each year, with proceeds going to the Fire Lake Beautification Reserve. It was one of the main reasons the town looked so quaint and put together. There was a donation bin for the foodbank, as well as booths selling hotdogs, chilidogs, burgers, and fries. Refreshments, drinks, buttons, and hats were also sold, with the money going back to the community. Everyone got involved, and everyone, it seemed, came out for the fun.
Faith had worked the afternoon shift at The Dock, and in keeping with tradition, Hal and Samantha closed up the place because they spent the night downtown in the square with a good number of folks over the age of twenty-one.
Faith had planned on an early night, thought maybe she’d read a book that she’d borrowed from Samantha, but Cassidy wore her down, and now she found herself among a crowd of at least five hundred. The two of them had come straight from work, both wearing white jean shorts and a cute T-shirt that said,On Fire for the Fourthacross the front, while the back saidThe Dock.The shirt was a bit snug, but that couldn’t be helped. At least her feet would be comfortable in her sneakers. Cassidy had changed into fire engine red four-inch patent leather pumps.
The blonde had procured a couple of drinks, and the two of them stood near the edge of the stage, which was set up for livemusic. The band was local — they’d played at The Dock the week before — and Cassidy was now seeing the singer, Jack.
“Do you think your mysterious neighbor is going to show?”
Faith glanced at her co-worker and hid a grin. The woman was relentless when she wanted something, and the sting of Gus’s rejection hadn’t sat well.
“I don’t know,” she replied lightly.
“I hear he’s hired a new crew to work out at the Boone estate, on those cottages, and one of them is hot as hell.”
Ah. Walker. This wasn’t about Gus. “Isn’t Jack working the same crew?”
Cassidy nodded.
“Why don’t you ask him?” She was teasing, but Cassidy surprised her and winked.
