“It’s more than that,” I argue. “She worked damn hard for that success, and her product is really good.”
“True. Maybe we should take a ride over there and get a box,” TJ says.
“Maybe we should,” I agree, then glance at Kyle. “How’s the restaurant goin’?”
“Great. Business hasn’t let up. In fact, I need to get over there soon and help Sutton shut the place down.”
“Thought you hired a manager for that,” Billy says.
“I did, but he can’t be there every damn day.”
Rafe chuckles. “Club meetings gettin’ in your way, brother?”
“Don’t let Cole hear you say that,” Billy replies.
“How’s the lumber mill doing?” I ask Rafe.
“Good. Now that it's rebuilt, things are running smoother than ever.”
“Don’t be humble. You had a big hand in that, brother,” Kyle says.
“Speaking of brothers, it was good seeing Brayden,” I add.
“Yeah, Ma really misses him,” TJ says. “She’s already trying to talk him into coming for a visit.”
The prospect brings us a round of beer, and I grab a longneck, tilting it up. I stare at the pool table, watching Billy damn near run the table, but my mind drifts to Ryan’s grave and his girl standing there looking so sad. I haven’t been able to get her out of my head since we’ve gotten home.
I’ve gone over every moment on that bridge and can’t help wondering if I hadn’t ridden by at that exact moment, if she’d have jumped.
The thought of it has kept me lying awake at night, staring at the ceiling and wondering if there really is such a thing as fate.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Heather—
Holding Tucker’s hand in mine, I head toward the door of Sonny’s Gentlemen’s Club. It’s early morning, and the place isn’t open, but there are a couple of cars parked to the side of the lot.
I tap on the glass and hear faint music coming from inside.
It takes a few more minutes of tapping before someone comes to the door.
It’s a large man. His eyes drag down me, then skate to Tucker. He throws the lock and opens the door, scoping the parking lot.
“What do you need, darlin’? You lookin’ for work?”
I did my hair and makeup to make a good impression. “Yes. Are you hiring?”
“Have you danced before?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“Cowboy’s in Huntsville, Alabama.”
“Alabama, huh? You’re a long way from home.” His eyes shift to Tucker again. “You got someone to take care of your son when you work?”
“Not at the moment, but if I get a job and know my hours, I can hire someone.”
