Either way, my heart was closed for the foreseeable future. Place any attractive male celebrity in front of me without a shirt on, and I would probably turn and walk away. (Although, to be fair, I’d sneak a quick peek.) But tonight, it felt fun. Just a little. This whole evening suddenly had an air of excitement. Margo had some confidence shining in her eyes, and I felt hope in my heart for the first time in a long time.
Well, maybe not hope, but it was nice to be out of my head for a bit.
Margo cleared her throat. “Um…DEFCON 1? Another guy is headed this way. This time, he’s looking at you.”
I took a long drink and stifled the urge to laugh. Maybe it was the ice water going down my throat or the idea that somebody was about to be flirting with me, but a little zing of excitement ran through my veins. Maybe I had spoken too soon about not feeling anything. I could finally admit to myself that Iwasn’tinterested in dating right now, especially not in Eugene. I wasn’t even interested in going ona date. But a distraction sounded nice. Those guys looked fun, they coulddefinitelyhandle being brought down a peg or two, and they wouldn’t be heartbroken at my rejection. Perhaps that was what my disheartened spirit needed. These guys wanted a turn at bat? I was up for it. Just because I wasn’t playing the long game didn’t mean I couldn’t enjoy striking someone out now and then.
Batter up.
2
Logan
Ipulled my truck into one of the few remaining parking spots for The Grub Shack and killed the engine. The seatbelt stretched as I leaned forward in my seat, assessing the old building. Other than the name change, it looked much the same as it had twelve years ago—one bad windstorm away from demise. Paint-chipped, brown wooden siding lined the one-level building. The whole site seemed to be leaning to the left. How this place passed inspections was beyond me. In a glance, I could spot at least ten easy fixes to add or change to the outside wall that would improve its appearance.
“Really pulling out all the stops for our date tonight, big boy,” Jake said from the passenger seat. He was grinning as a burly man passed in front of us, looking around for witnesses before digging for gold at the seat of his pants.
“I thought you’d appreciate the ambiance of a place this classy, sweetheart.”
Jake Evans was the little brother I never knew I always wanted. I was raised in the middle of two sisters, who I loved dearly, but there was something about having an annoying little brother around that did the soul good. For the past seven years, my dad had hired on two cowboys to work the ranch, Jake and Dusty. Even though I had been out of the house by then, we had all bonded during my visits home and the occasional cattle drive I moved heaven and earth to be a part of each summer. When my dad sold the dairy cows two years earlier, Dusty had taken a job on his uncle’s ranch in Wyoming, but Jake was still around, taking online classes, running the rodeo circuit, and acting as my dad’s right-hand man. With his best friend off in Wyoming, Jake wandered around, looking like a kicked puppy. I couldn’t help feeling sorry for him, which was how I found myself inviting him to come and meet my crew for dinner tonight.
Jake and I yanked open our doors and stepped out, our boots kicking up the dust in the dirt parking lot.
At twenty-nine years old, being back in Eugene wouldn’t have been my first choice in a summer job, but I had to admit, it felt kinda good to be home. I was back in the land of one stoplight and traffic jams caused only by tractors. Other than the lingering aroma of cow manure, Eugene was a breath of fresh air. I had arrived in town an hour earlier, dumped all my things in the bunkhouse (much to my mother’s dismay), called ‘Here, boy’ to Jake until he jumped into the truck with me, and drove straight to the restaurant.
“Do you ever eat here?” I asked Jake as we meandered toward the front door, which was barely hanging on by the last hinge.
“I don’t eat anywhere ‘cause your mom’s the best cook in the world.”
“Suck up.”
“But I heard they’re under new management.”
“I heard that, too,” I said.
“Fingers crossed we still get to throw peanuts on the floor.” Jake gave a satisfied sigh.
He meant it, too. The more low-down and country a place could get, the more at home he felt. It went well with his long legs, boots, and that confident cowboy swagger. Though he was six years younger than me, the twenty-three-year-old was a few inches north of six feet, pulling ahead of me by a couple of inches, which he never failed to remind me of. The height difference was further accentuated by his black cowboy hat.
“Will you buy me dessert, honey?” Jake asked, peering through the water-stained and dirt-crusted window into the restaurant.
“If you treat me nice.”
My phone buzzed before we got to the door. I checked it and typed a quick text back to Chase.
Chase: You guys there?
Me: Yeah. I’m meeting the boys for dinner now.
Chase: Sounds good. I’ll bring the fam down over the 4th to check on things. Let me know if you need anything before that.
Me: Will do.
Chase: FYI…fries only at The Ranch House or whatever it’s called now. Things are much worse than before.
Chase had senta skeleton crew to Eugene to build the physical therapy office he was investing in with his good friend, Nate Robbins. Though, at the last minute, he had gotten tied up in a project he couldn’t leave, so he sent me. This was unfortunate because Nate and I had a history that was a bit on the rocky side. But high school was a long time ago.
“What a pansy,” Jake said, turning away from where he’d been reading my text thread over my shoulder. “He graduated from Eugene, same as us. We’ve been training our stomachs our whole lives for this kind of food.”
