He blinks slowly.
I sigh and drag a hand through my hair. “Okay fine. I’m pacing.”
The house is too quiet. Normally by now the bar would be humming with noise. Someone would be arguing over the jukebox, Wayne would be yelling about spilled beer, and at least one regular would be trying to convince me they deserve another round when they absolutely do not.
Instead it’s just me and a bunch of animals.
I grab the coffee mug I poured twenty minutes ago and take a sip, immediately grimacing because it’s gone cold. I dump it into the sink and reach for my keys.
“That’s it,” I announce to the room.
Hank lifts his head.
“We’re going to town.”
He thumps his tail once but doesn’t bother standing up, which honestly feels like judgment.
The Rust Nail looks better than it did three days ago when I first saw the damage, but it’s still rough around the edges. The windows are boarded up while someone inside works on the frames, and the back door has been replaced but the wood around it is still raw and unfinished. My chest tightens a little when I pull into the lot.
The place looks wounded.
I climb out of the truck and nod to one of the contractors carrying tools past me.
“Hey.”
“Hey.”
Inside, the bar smells like sawdust and cleaning chemicals instead of beer and fried food. Wayne is behind the counter with a clipboard, arguing with someone about measurements when he looks up and sees me.
And immediately scowls.
“Rae.”
I smile sweetly and lean against the bar. “Good morning.”
“I told you to stay home.”
“I did,” I say. “For two whole days.”
“That was the deal.”
“That was your suggestion.”
Wayne pinches the bridge of his nose like he’s praying for patience. “I swear to God.”
I hop up onto one of the bar stools and glance around while the contractor disappears toward the back. “You’re making progress.”
“We’ll reopen tomorrow if everything goes right.”
“Good.”
He eyes me suspiciously. “You’re not here to cause trouble, are you?”
I widen my eyes. “Me?”
“Yes you.”
I shrug. “I’m just checking in.”
