“Toni!”Oliver greets me from behind the bar at Two Sons.
I wave as I make my way over, hopping onto an open bar stool. “How do you find the energy to do this after dealing with children all day?”
He shrugs. “The tips are almost better than my salary some nights.”
“That . . . is depressing.”
“I know.” He pulls a pint, delivering it a few seats down. “Cillian’s in the office.”
I nod. “Can I grab a water, actually?”
“Of course.” He passes me a glass.
“Thanks.” I take a deep drink before asking, “So, this cabin. When Cillian says ‘roughing it,’ how rough are we talking?”
Oliver considers. “Indoor plumbing, no wifi, questionable cell service.”
“I can handle that.”
Familiar warm arms wrap around my waist. “Is that a yes to my invitation?” Cillian asks. Without meaning to, I relax into his embrace.
“Hold on.” I tilt my head to look at him. “How big is this cabin. If it’s you, me, Oliver, Lu?—”
“Oh, we camp,” Oliver clarifies.
“‘We’ better not include me,” I say.
“Do you not like camping?” Cillian asks, surprised.
“Sleeping on the ground for fun has always seemed deranged to me.” I look at Oliver. “No offense.”
“Only a little taken,” he teases.
Cillian sighs. “I knew there had to be a flaw.”
“Hey, you not drinking coffee is far more of a red flag than me preferring to sleep on an actual bed.”
“The woman isn’t wrong,” Oliver agrees. Cillian chuckles, moving to lean on the bar beside me, clearly taking weight off his bad leg.
“You ok?” I ask, taking his hand in mine.
“Yeah,” he dismisses.
I raise a disbelieving brow at that.
He kisses my knuckles. “Just sore. Promise.”
“I can cook tonight,” I offer.
“You? Cook?” he asks, shocked.
“I am capable of cooking.” Judging by his expression, he doesn’t believe me. “I am.”
“Ok, ok.” He laughs. “We can do it together. How’s that?”
“Fine.”
He gives me one of those delicious slow grins beforekissing me briefly. If I weren’t seated, my knees would be liquid. “And to be clear, we can sleep in the cabin. Owners' rights.”
