Cole
“Okay,” Brittany says, propping her hand on her hip. “I’ve given you over a week to come clean, and since you haven’t manned up, I’m going to have to outright ask you: Are you sleeping with Holly Mayberry?”
My jaw drops. It’s a good thing she waited until the lull after lunch because otherwise half the town would know by dinner time. I’m definitely not ready for that. I’m still getting used to all of this. I like it—more than like it—but that doesn’t mean I want people asking me questions about Holly from the time we open until closing.
“Wow. Okay,” I say, shaking my head. “So you just went there.”
Her brows lift as a smug grin spreads across her face. “No denial. Okay.”
I frown. “I don’t kiss and tell, Brittany.”
Her eyes light up, and she drops her arms. “Now we’re getting somewhere.”
“You never showed any interest in the other women in my life.”
“Please,” she says as she rolls her eyes. “You can hardly call those one-night stands 'women in your life. And we both know I was very interested in that woman you were talking to on the dating app, so don’t pull that bullshit.” When I don’t respond, she lowers her voice. “I saw her coming out of your apartment wearing your clothes, not to mention she’s been there multiple times since.”
“She’s Jane’s coding teacher, and when she found out we were sick, she brought us some food and ginger ale.”
“And this weekend when you were better and Jane was at her grandparents?”
I rest a hand on the counter and stare at her, trying not to feel sore about Jane’s insistence on spending Sunday with them, even though she was already planning on being there for Thanksgiving. “I thought you wanted me to date local women.”
“I want you to be happy, Cole.” She lets out a sigh. “Come on, we both know you weren’t happy screwing tourists. You need more. Like what you had with Millie.” A pain stabs me in the chest. It must show on my face, because Brittany says, “Don’t you dare feel guilty. Millie would want you to be happy. In fact, I suspect she wouldn’t have wanted you to wait so long.”
“Maybe not, but I wasn’t ready before. It’s not easy to get over a woman like Millie.”
“Agreed, and honestly, you needed a woman who was worthy of following in her footsteps. And for what it’s worth, I’m not surprised it’s Holly Mayberry. The sparks have been flying off you two for years.”
Jesus. How many other people noticed?
“We’re keeping it quiet for now. I want to see how things go before I let Jane know we’re seeing each other. I don’t want—” I stop talking, and my back stiffens when I see Deacon walk in through the front door. Show time.
“Look what just turned up.”
“He’s persistent,” Brittany says in a stiff voice. “I’ll give him that.”
Deacon is dressed in jeans and a flannel shirt today. I guess he figured he’d tanked it with the rich business man and full-on cowboy acts—might as well give the homespun look a try. He saunters right up to the bar, reeking of confidence.
“I thought I told you to never come back,” I say, because if I act too eager, I suspect he’ll be suspicious.
Deacon rests his hand on the edge of the bar and gives me a condescending look. “Here’s the thing, Cole. You might be a hot head, but you strike me as a reasonable man once you cool down, which is why I gave you a little over a week to think things over.” He reaches into his back pocket, removes a folded piece of paper, then plops it on the counter and spreads it out.
“Right here’s a check for two hundred thousand dollars. A nice down payment for a new house or, you know, to pay off any expenses you might have coming up.” He winks. “Christmas will be here before you know it. You can get Jane some really nice presents this year.” He cringes like he has bad news. “But here’s the deal. I’m afraid I’m going to have to go back to my original offer. Five hundred thousand. Cash.”
“You’re offering me five hundred thousand for the building, the equipment, the beer catalog, and everything else.Five hundred thousand.” This guy is un-fucking-believable.
His mouth tips up into a smug grin. “Good to know you’re not deaf.” His smile fades. “But seriously. I’d love to put this to bed. The next time my offer might not be as good.” He lifts a shoulder in a lazy shrug. “The market fluctuates, you know?”
“You know,” I say, scratching my chin. “Can you hang on half a second? I want to get a pad of paper to write all of this down.”
His face lights up. “Yeah. You bet.”
Brittany gives me aare you shitting me?look, but I ignore her and head to my office. Once I’m in the hall, I pull out my phone and turn on the camera, switching it to video. I hurry into my office and grab a notepad and a pen before heading back out, but Brittany’s blocking my path looking like she wants to wring my neck.
“What in the Sam Hill do you think you’re doing?” she demands. “You can’t be serious, because like hell am I gonna work for that fool.”
I hold a finger to my lips and lower my voice. “Shh. Of course I’m not gonna sell to that weasel, but he’s Simone Labelle’s husband, which means the Labelles are behind this. I’m gonna try to set him up.” I shove my phone at her. “It’s set to video. See if you can record this, or at the very least, get the audio.”
