“On his way.” A broad grin lit her face before she moved down the bar.
Aftyn swirled her wine. “Liam and Siobhan Flynn. No Irish there.”
“Liam’s nickname for her too.” Cole leaned back. “He’s a damn good man. I’ll introduce you when he gets here.”
“I’d like that.” Aftyn turned on her stool, watching boots stamp and hats bob to the band’s driving rhythm, the bar swelling with laughter and the promise of a good night.
When the band launched intoBoot Scootin’ Boogie, an old Brooks and Dunn song, she hopped off her stool.
“I have to get in this one,” she said then pushed through the crowd and got into the line.
****
Cole chuckled as he watched her push through the crowd, her red hair catching the glow of the vintage pendant lights. She got in line beside a lanky cowboy in a sweat-stained Stetson who couldn’t seem to take his eyes off her. Cole’s jaw tightened, a muscletwitching. He shook his head and took a long pull of his beer. He had no claim on her. But it didn’t look like the cowboy could take a hint.
Aftyn barely noticed him. She and the woman beside her were having too much fun, shoulders bumping as they swayed to the guitar spilling from the stage.
“Hey, Cole.” A familiar voice cut through the noise, and he turned to find Liam settling onto the stool beside him. Cole grinned and shook his hand.
“Good to see you. Haven’t been in lately.”
“You too.” Liam’s crow’s feet deepened. “No beautiful bartender wife to draw you in, I suppose.”
Cole laughed. “Exactly.”
Liam rose as Siobhan leaned across the bar and cupped his face in her hands, kissing him soundly. The patrons along the bar whistled and cheered.
“Not fair,” Cole teased.
Siobhan rolled her eyes, reaching for a glass to polish. “Please. Aftyn is beautiful.”
“We’re not on a date. I just asked her along.”
Siobhan arched an eyebrow. “Does she live in Clifton?”
He shrugged, tracing the edge of the counter. “For now. She’ll be leaving soon.”
“That’s too bad.” Siobhan gave him a sympathetic smile before turning to greet the waiting customers. “You two make a good couple.”
Cole watched her move away, the bustle of patrons rising around him. It didn’t matter how perfectly they might fit together. She’d pack up and go before long, and he’d never see her again.
He took a swig of beer just as a ripple of cheers swept through the bar. Turning, he spotted Grant Hunter striding through the door, broad shouldersleading the way, Jessa’s auburn hair glowing under the lanterns behind him. Landry and Kay Yates followed, Kay’s laughter already dancing in her eyes.
The band’s last chords faded, and Aftyn slid onto the stool beside him, cheeks flushed from the heat of the floor. “Whew.” She bumped his elbow. “What set everyone off?”
Cole nodded toward the door.
Aftyn leaned forward, squinting. Then she sat up straight. “He looks like Grant Hunter.”
“He is.”
Her brow furrowed. “He is what?”
“Grant Hunter.”
She cast a skeptical look around the room. “Pfft.Why on earth would Grant Hunter be in here?” She shook her head as if to clear it.
“Born and raised in Clifton. I’ve known him since grade school.”
