The pub was filling up. With our measly tourist season being over, the locals were eager to reclaim their space.
Our diva hadn’t arrived yet. I was giving him until eight, then I’d remove the “Reserved” sign from the corner booth.
If it were up to Monty, we’d be having a parade to welcome Laurel Riley to town. While I didn’t have anything against the guy, I wouldn’t be bending over backward for him either.
I pulled beers one after another, my fingers cold from the chilled glasses. I set them on the counter for Sedric to pick up, and Oliver poured his heart out. His pretty face lit up the room even when he was frustrated.
“I was hoping I’d improve with time, you know? But with every disaster, I’m more and more convinced that I’m cursed. I’ll never learn to make a decent meal, and that’s the reality I need to live with. It’s either Teddy cooking or ready-made. So here I am, picking up a romantic dinner for two from the pub.”
“I told Rudi to pack extra gravy,” I said.
“Thanks, Jordy, you’re a saint. Teddy loves gravy. You know, at first, I thought I was just too lazy to cook. At college, the dorm kitchen sucked, and there was never time to make anything elaborate. I mean, I can make pasta and pour tomato sauce on it, and there was rarely a reason to bother with anything that took longer than ten minutes to make. But one day, I would like to surprise Teddy with something he actually likes, you know?”
I nodded and hummed while Oliver lamented his mysterious inability to prepare meals for his man. He was sweet, cute as hell with his shiny auburn hair and freckled cheeks, and I knew for a fact that every young alpha in Beauville had had a crush on the sheriff’s son at some point. But Oliver was fated to Theodore Frey, our mayor, and as soon as he was back home from college, it was a done deal between them.
“Order’s up,” Rudi called from behind me.
I grabbed the takeout bag for the kitchen window and handed it to Oliver over the bar counter.
“Tell Frey I said hi.”
“Thanks.” He sniffed the bag and groaned. “It smells amazing. Teddy will be in heaven.”
“I’m pretty sure he doesn’t care whether you can cook.”
I winked, and Oliver beamed at me.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to vent on you.”
“Part of the job.”
He scooped up the bag and skipped away. I fixed a few drink orders before his dad appeared, leaning on the counter right by the taps.
Chickie was out of his sheriff uniform, but he never left his hat behind. He set it on the counter carefully.
“Give me a lager, Jordy.”
“Sure, chief. Coming right up.”
It had taken me a while to stop squirming around Chickie. The street-kid reflexes were hard to shake. Even now, I was just a little extra aware of how my hands moved pouring his pint.
He eyed me as I pulled on the handle, then he glanced left and right as if making sure there were no eavesdroppers. I could guess where this was headed.
“We can talk,” I mumbled under my breath. “Not busy yet.”
“I can call you tomorrow if you’d rather deal with it outside this place.”
“Nah. We’re good.” There was no one within earshot, and the music was loud enough.
He gave me a quick nod and continued in a low voice. “I got a request from the probation office. They wanted some final notes on how you’re doing here. I’ve already sent them a reply.”
I set the beer in front of him. My hand remained steady even as my chest tightened. “I’m sorry you have to deal with the paperwork.”
He waved me off. “You’re fine, Jordy. As far as the Beauville sheriff’s department is concerned, you’re a model citizen. All good.”
“Thanks.” One day I might believe it.
“Only a few weeks and done, right?”
