And at the center of it all was Krista.
She was behind the bar, shaking cocktails, listening to the conversation around her. Her ponytail was a little messy, curls escaping around her face, tank top the perfect shade of coral, like that one bathing suit she’d modeled for him ages ago, and those cutoff denim shorts that always made his mouth go dry.
She shook her head at something Kit called out, her gold bee necklace catching the light every time she moved.
She looked…unsettled. He couldn’t explain it. Like she was physically there, but her emotions seemed a million miles away. He recognized that feeling all too well.
He stayed in the shadow of a maple for a moment, just watching.
Krista moved like she and this place were threaded together,pouring drinks, sliding a glass down the bar to Madison, stealing a lime wedge for herself. Leaning on her elbows to listen as Zoe said something that forced a soft smile from her lips.
His chest tightened with how much he’d missed this. Missed her.
This time, he wasn’t here for a story.
He was here for her.
FORTY-THREE
KRISTA
Friday
Krista was trying very hard to file the night under bittersweet, but really all she had was heartbreak.
A buyer had made an offer on the Hideaway—one she’d be foolish to refuse—and tonight was the last official Cocktail Club. Tomorrow, she’d sign the paperwork, and the Hot Honey Hideaway would become a chapter in her past.
Like Joe already was.
Fairy lights were strung between the trees, casting puddles of gold over the patio. Citronella candles flickered in mismatched jars. The last streaks of sunset bled out behind the pines, turning Bear Lake into a sheet of glass, catching every shimmer of light from the bar.
It looked perfect. It always did.
Krista stood behind the bar, shaker in one hand, bar towel in the other, smiling on autopilot as she poured, garnished, laughed in all the right places.
“Two Hot Honeys, one Spicy Bee, and a Honeyed Old Fashioned,” she called, sliding the drinks across the bar to herfriends. “If you’re not at least a little buzzed and sugared by the end of the night, I have failed you.”
Inside, she felt like she was slowly splintering.
She hadn’t spoken to Joe since he’d left Maple Falls. Not really. He’d called a few times, sent texts and photos from Europe. Pictures of market stalls, fountains, and narrow streets that she could almost imagine walking through beside him.
She’d left every message on read.
At first she’d told herself she was waiting until she had the right words. The right photo to send back. Something that said “I’m sorry” and “I miss you” and “I’m trying not to fall apart without you” without actually saying any of that.
Then the days had stretched. The guilt had grown quiet and heavy, like silt at the bottom of the lake. And now he was thousands of miles away, chasing the dream she’d told him to chase without her.
He never said he wasn’t coming back; he didn’t have to. The longer she stayed silent, the more it felt like she’d made the choice for both of them.
This is what you wanted, she reminded herself, wiping a ring of condensation off the counter.You stayed. He went. Everybody did what they were supposed to.
“Hey, Queen Bee, you got another batch of honey margaritas?” Kit called, leaning over the service side of the bar wearing a red beret that matched her Converse.
“Coming right up,” Krista said, her smile still forced.
Kit slid away with a salute.
She looked across the deck at all her favorite people. Everyone she’d ever wanted to build a life around.
