“Why? Because you’re a nosy bitch?”
“Exactly that.” She grinned, putting the new release sign on the table. “And I’m not even sorry.”
Even I had to laugh at that. I did love the fact that Saylor was unapologetically who she was.
“Fine,” I said after a few minutes. “You do that, but none of you are to come near us, do you hear? And you sit on the other side of the bar and arrive after we get there.”
She rolled her eyes, but ultimately agreed.
By the time I turned my back on her, I was already regretting this like hell.
***
Mondays at Bronco’s were, thankfully, not insanely busy.
Usually.
Tonight was an exception.
There was some big hiking convention or something going on in White Peak this week, so it was busier than usual. Whatever it was, it was a new thing that didn’t happen on a yearly basis.
Thankfully, Elliott had booked our table in advance, and since Holley and Ivy’s parents owned the bar, Holley and everyone else had no problems getting a table either.
Awesome.
I wasn’t going to lie, I’d had a moment of hope when I’d seen how packed this place was.
Elliott and I placed our food orders and handed the menus over to Rachel. She took them and flounced away just as the jukebox rolled over to Don’t Stop Believin’ by Journey.
That was Saylor’s song.
If she was using the jukebox to get near us, I was going to string her up from the town square clock by her ankles while she was naked.
“So you own the bookstore in town?” Elliott asked, genuinely looking interested. “What kind of books do you sell?”
I gave him a brief recap of how we came to own the store. “We sell just about everything. Fiction, non-fiction, kids books, local guide books. And, apparently, books on raising ducks.”
He fought a smile. “Do I want to know?”
“No. Probably not,” I said honestly. “It’s a long and slightly alarming story.”
He laughed, and I had to admit, it was a nice laugh.
You know. If you measured laughs.
Was there a laughter scale? If not, why not? Surely there had to be parameters for what made a good laugh, a good laugh.
“You work for the Montana Bears?” I asked after a moment of awkward silence. “As a physical therapist?”
“That’s right. I actually used to play baseball, but I was in a car crash when I was fourteen and suffered some pretty bad injuries that put an end to my dreams of going pro.”
“Oh, that sucks. I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine. I grew close to my own therapist, and through him, grew to love and respect what he did and decided to follow a similar path. I’m lucky I get to work with my boyhood team.” His smile said he meant it. “There’s a lot of travel involved, but I don’t mind it.”
“Do you travel a lot?”
“A fair amount, but not as much as some of the others on the team. I’m mostly based here and deal with players who’ve had an injury and are rehabbing at home.”
“Cool. Anyone I might know?”
“Depends. Do you follow baseball?”
“Not at all.” I laughed.
He bit back a laugh of his own. “Our pitcher just injured his shoulder, so I’m working out a recovery plan for him right now. Sebastian is getting surgery next week, and he’ll probably be out for all of next season unless he has a miraculous recovery.”
I paused. “Did you say Sebastian?”
“Yeah. Sebastian Stone. I bet you’ve heard of him.”
“You could say that. We went to school together.”
Elliott’s eyebrows shot up. “No kidding.”
I nodded slowly. “We used to be pretty good friends. He was really close with one of my best friends, Holley.”
“Like a relationship?”
“Oh, no. Just really close friends.” Even if Holley had been half in love with him when we were teenagers—and given how that friendship had ended, I wasn’t going to tell her about his injury. “So he’s out all season?”
“The doctors seem to think so. He’ll probably come home to do his rehab since I’m here anyway.”
Yikes. Maybe I would be telling Holley. The last thing I needed was her on my ass if she found out I knew he was coming home.
“Cool.” I smiled.
“You’re not really interested in sports, are you?”
I shook my head. “I hike the trails when the tourists aren’t around, but that’s mostly just an excuse to listen to audiobooks.”
He laughed, and our conversation devolved into what was, admittedly, a completely comfortable discussion. We covered everything from his favorite books to our favorite movies, and we only stopped talking when our food was delivered.
Of course, that was when I became acutely aware of the eyes pinned to my back. I didn’t need to turn around to know there were four pairs of eyes trained my way, maybe five if Saylor had grabbed Tori. I doubted that because she was building a new website for a client, but I wasn’t going to turn around and let Elliott know we were being watched.
Especially by my brother.
CHAPTER TWELVE – JOSH
rule twelve: your dating life is not a romance novel trope.
“I don’t like him.”
Holley rolled her eyes as she looked at Colt. “You’re only saying that because she’s your sister.”
“Why the fuck am I here?”
“Because we wanted to spy on her and didn’t want to make it obvious,” Saylor answered honestly, sipping her vodka and cranberry juice through the straw. Her gaze was focused solely on the table where Kinsley and Elliott were sitting, and I was glad I had my back to them.
I didn’t want to see her.
If I’d known she was here on a date with the guy she’d told me she didn’t like, I never would have come.
Although, judging by the way Saylor kept glancing at me, I think she knew that.
I didn’t know how she
