“You’re a good mom.” Ron, an older Marine Corps vet in his late sixties, was quick to offer reassurance. “Those kids need you. And I like Simone’s theme.” Although grizzled in appearance with a raspy voice, Ron could be counted on to bring balance to the conversation. “I didn’t use to like learning new things. Then I read a study that learning keeps us young. Keeps the brain healthy, so now I seek out things to learn. I’m taking piano lessons this fall.”
I glanced over at Carson. A deep frown creased his face as if he were thinking extra hard. He’d had to relearn so many skills. Ron meant well, but Carson wasn’t exactly the target audience for his advice. I shot Carson a reassuring look as Simone gave Ron a little clap.
“That’s amazing. Well done.” She smiled broadly as she gestured around the room. “Did anyone else want to share?” Her gaze lingered on me, but I gave a subtle head shake. “No? All right. Let’s close with a few reminders about resources.” After she passed around a flyer with various hotline numbersand organizations that provided assistance, she rubbed her hands together. “Next month, the theme is self-care, one of my favorites. Hope to see you all then.”
Carson was one of the first to his feet. I understood his eagerness to flee all too well. I came to these things out of a desire to hold space for my fellow veterans, but there were plenty of times when that duty felt extra weighty. However, before we could leave, Ron came over with a hearty handshake for me.
“Jude. Our veterinarian veteran.” Ron had made that joke only about a hundred times, but I gave a good-natured laugh nonetheless. Ron’s gaze flitted over to Carson. “Good to see a new face with you. Keep coming back, you hear?”
“Will do.” I nodded at the frequent refrain among longtime meeting regulars before stepping closer to the door. Carson was right behind me. “We better head out. You take care.”
“Well. You survived,” I said to Carson when we were back at my truck. “Not too terrible, right?”
“Not bad.” Carson shrugged. His expression was closed off and didn’t invite further discussion of the meeting.
“Ready for burgers?” Stomach rumbling, I started the truck. “I’m taking you to my favorite spot. It’s a newer brewery. Trendy. But the food is amazing. I don’t let myself have fries very often, but theirs are worth the indulgence.”
“I like fries.” Carson smiled at me, an easy grin that made my stomach give a little flip.
Damn it. I’d been friendly with his brother for years and had never once felt even a flutter of attraction, but one smile from Carson had my insides quivering like a teen on a first date. Which this was most assuredly not.
Chapter Five
Carson
Jude hadgood taste in restaurants. The brewery he’d picked was a larger place near downtown Durango with a wide, expansive patio and an interior with an upscale industrial vibe with lots of dark wood and exposed metal accents.
“Nice place,” I said to Jude after the server seated us inside in a nice padded booth with high-backed seats. Out on the patio, a four-person band was playing, but in the main dining room, there was only a low murmur of noise from other diners and a faint hint of the music from outside. “Not too loud inside.”
I wasn’t a fan of loud bars to start with, but these days, blaring televisions, clanking glasses, and noisy patrons gave me an instant headache, so I liked this place’s chill vibe.
“Yeah, I like that aspect as well.” Jude smiled before gesturing at our thick menus. He flipped through the various sections as I did the same. “Everything I’ve tried here is amazing, but the garlic fries are truly special.”
“Noted.” I laughed as my stomach gurgled in answer.
“You want to share an order of wings as an appetizer?” Jude asked, turning back to the appetizer page to indicate the various hot wings options.
“No.” Wings sounded good, but the fries would be enough of a struggle. Messy wings were a coordination challenge I was likely to fail. “Hard to eat.”
“Gotcha.” Jude nodded as he scrolled a finger down the appetizer list. “We could?—”
“I’m good.” Mad at myself that wings weren’t an option, I cut him off a bit too sharply. I hated needing accommodation for something as simple as a plate of wings. Jude was easy-going as always and went back to studying the menu, but I felt bad for snapping. “Sorry. Hangry.”
“No problem.” Jude waved off my apology as our server, a pretty, young redhead, strode toward us. “Luckily, here comes our server.”
“What’ll it be?” she asked.
“This burger.” I pointed at the picture of the entrée I wanted, a loaded burger called the Tyrannosaurus that had bacon, two kinds of cheese, grilled onions, and mushrooms. The name was too much of a mouthful for me to try to say, and the burger would be a challenge to eat neatly, but the picture was too appetizing to pass up. “And garlic fries.”
“I’ll have what he’s having.” Jude offered the warmest of smiles. I wasn’t sure whether it was for me or the server, but a weird heat filled my chest nonetheless.
“Band sounds good,” I said after the server left with our order.
“They do.” Jude cocked his head like he was trying to make out the song. “You’re a country fan.”
“You’re not?” I was surprised. Most of the ranching folks in the area seemed to have rather predictable tastes, ones I’d inherited from a father I had precious few memories of.
“Eh. It’s okay. Hard to grow up in Lovelorn without hearing a fair bit of country, but alt-rock is more my usual jam.” Judechuckled. “Country is often too much crying about beers or women, but it can be fun for dancing.”
