Then he was kissing me again. I let the world flow past us, the sounds of the bar returning to normal as they took in the new norm.
Colt and Charlie sitting on a bar, k-i-s-s-i-n-g.
This was my world now.
Living in a small town where everyone knew your business. Running a taproom that had seen better days but provided a place for people to come and unwind without judgment. And a man I loved more than I could ever possibly tell him.
And I thought about the leaking ceiling. The jukebox that ate quarters.
I thought about the bet.
The bet that, though I’d technically lost, I’d actually won.
Because going to bed with the lumberjack was what I’d always wanted.
EPILOGUE
Colt
It was just another Friday night.
That was what I told myself when I walked into the bar and found Sally and Landry there along with Sutton and Arabella. Which wasn’t unusual. Dinner with my brothers and their wives had started as an occasional thing and become a standing one.
What was unusual was the fact that my entire family was there. Even my parents. All sitting around my booth like they were getting ready to watch a play. Everyone seemed to be in the middle of conversations that stopped being quite so animated the moment I walked through the door.
I scanned the room. Old habit. Everybody in their right places. Nothing wrong.
“Evening,” Charlie said from behind the bar, easy as always, and went back to whatever she was doing.
I settled into my booth. Grant brought me a beer without being asked, which Grant never did, and sat back down with an expression that said he was waiting for something.
The evening went normally. Mostly. Charlie brought food and we ate. I talked to my father about the next cut site we would be opening up next week. My mother asked about the cabin, which she always asked about, which meant she was asking about Charlie without asking about Charlie because she’d decided that was my business and she was respecting it, mostly.Arabella was talking to Sally about something that had them both laughing, and twice I caught them looking over at Charlie and then back at each other.
Charlie moved through the room the way she always did. Efficient. Easy. Completely at home. Every time I looked at her working the room, something inside me settled. Another piece of darkness gave into the light. The way she handled the regulars. The sound of her sharp mouth when someone got too clever. The way she looked back at my booth sometimes when she thought I wasn’t watching — like she was just checking that I was still there. I was always still there.
At some point in the evening, she disappeared into the back.
She came out carrying a cupcake.
One cupcake, on a small plate and placed it down in front of me with the matter-of-fact delivery of someone who brought men cupcakes every day of the week.
I looked at it. “It’s not my birthday.”
“I know.”
“Then what’s this for?”
“Just take a bite,” she said, standing there. I’d already felt something off about the evening and the tiny frown line between her brows only heightened that feeling.
I looked at the cupcake. It was a good-looking cupcake. White cake with an inch of frosting on top. “Don’t you want it?” I asked Charlie.
“No, it’s just for you.”
I shrugged my shoulder, pulled down the wrapped and took a bite.
Everyone gasped when I set it back down on the plate.
“What?”
