“Take Dad’s.” I dig the keys Meredith gave me out of my pocket and wiggle the truck keys. I toss them.
He snaps the set out of the air without looking, keeping his gaze fixed on Sawyer. He catches me watching him. “She seems nice,” he says dryly.
“I’m sure she thinks the same about you.”
Another engine drones in the distance. Meredith’s SUV glides down the driveway. My feet remain still. It’s a bad idea. If she wanted to confront me, she would have come home last night.
My phone pings as soon as she crosses the camera on the house. I dig the phone out of my pocket and silence it. I left the damn thing in my office last night, or I would’ve known Bowen was in town.
Bowen blocks my view of Meredith driving into the garage with his big head. “You lying asshole. You’re way into her.”
“I didn’t lie about a thing.”
“Who’s the last girl you dated?”
His question takes me off-guard, and my mind blanks. But when it’s back online, I still can’t come up with a name or a face. My gaze rises to the house, and he leans to block my view.
“Goddammit, Calder. She’s a complication we don’t need.”
“There’s nothing going on.”
“No shit.” He echoes my earlier answer. “You won’t catch me grinding against her. Ever. Girl troubles are never worth it.”
“Keep it that way.” When I scowl at him, he exhales a sigh.
“Remember what her last name is.”
I do. But I might be more like my dad than I thought.
TWENTY-ONE
MEREDITH
Thanks to Brenner and Molly, I’ve been able to leave early for the past two nights. Calder doesn’t. He toils away in the office, then he comes out scowling and serves customers all night long. Women continue to flock to the brewery, and tonight, after word got out that Bowen’s also back and working in the taproom, there are more than ever. I’m glad I’m not there.
I’m not about to be one of those women who admires Calder’s every movement, how he prowls through the taproom instead of flitting around, and the intensity that makes a girl wonder how it translates in the bedroom.
No. That’s not me.
It’s getting hard to not be me.
Instead, I’m home, with both garage doors open, soaking in the normality of caring for my home, even if it is to prepare for a funeral reception. Sawyer and I are making the space presentable for a reception. Why didn’t I take James up on his offer to rent out the funeral home for this?
Right. Because Sawyer and I are paying for both Holly’s funeral and a joint reception. I ordered her not to pitch in, but she pointed out how Ransom helped with each of her parents’funerals. I know her pride and her big heart insist on helping, and she’d be distraught if she couldn’t.
Sawyer hauls several grocery bags out of her pickup. “I have the tablecloths, and Kelly helped me load the tables and chairs.”
“You’re playing with fire.”
“Or I’m a witch who’s abusing his affection to get free work out of him.”
I shrug. “Maybe you’ll become his best friend, and then you can sleep over when Becca’s out of town.”
“Speaking of his bestie, she was there when I picked up the tables from the vet clinic. She looked like she’d sucked on a lemon.”
“Sure it wasn’t from sucking on Kelly?”
“Mer!” She laughs and dumps the bags onto the two tables I’ve set up. The only two we own. I wasn’t going to haul the massive table from the shop. Ransom preserved Julia’s keepsake in Bubble Wrap and cellophane, and I’m not going to be the one to unwrap it.
