No, I did not know this man, but I was sure as fuck I didn’t want to fight him.
“A misunderstanding,” I muttered. Janie guffawed loudly. “On my part,” I clarified.
“The Hale brothers are pretty good at judging character,” the man noted.
Like she sensed a sudden change in the wind, Janie’s head whipped toward him. “Just drink your beer, Jack. I’ll handle this.” At his surprised look, she rolled her eyes. “I knew who you were the moment you sat down. Essie has a photo of you on her fireplace mantle.”
“Did you tell her I’m here?” Jack asked, not sounding particularly pleased about it.
Janie’s brow furrowed. “She doesn’t know?”
“I wanted to surprise her.”
“Then it’s a good thing I didn’t tell her, I guess.” Janie turned back to me. “I haven’t decided what to do about you yet, so don’t get too comfortable on that barstool.” She sank a hand on her hip. “Maybe I should follow Chloe’s lead and tell you to get the hell out. That’s what she always did.”
“And now she lives with me, so…” I spread my arms wide. “Seems like a risk on your part. You might actually end up liking me.”
“Doubtful.” Janie pursed her lips. “Still not sure she wasn’t under duress.”
I huffed and rubbed my palms over a crack in the wood. “Chloe could tell me to get the hell out of my own home, and I’d go,” I grumbled. She could have the damn place if she wanted it. It smelled too much like her, anyway. “I’m not forcing her to share space with me.”
I glanced up and found Janie staring at me with wide brown eyes and more than a little pity.
“One beer,” she said. “That’s it.” She didn’t ask me what I wanted, just grabbed a bottle of IPA from the fridge, popped the top, and handed it to me.
Not my favorite, but I wasn’t in a place to complain. “Thanks.”
I sipped the beer and glanced over at Jack. He’d been awfully quick to jump to the Hales’ defense, and Essie had a photo of him. What did that make him? He was too young to be her dad, despite the gray at his temples. Was he her brother? Which would also make him Brax Hale’s brother-in-law. Probably not a person I wanted to strike up a conversation with.
“You got a favorite flower, Jack?” I asked.
He paused, the brown beer bottle dangling from his hand. “Why do you want to know?”
“The flowers they embroidered on Chloe’s shoes. Apparently that’s the kind of thing friends know about each other.” I jerked my head in Janie’s direction. “I don’t think that’s normal. Hell, I’m not sure I even have a favorite flower.”Sissy shit, my dad’s voice whispered in my ear. But then I remembered the way Chloe’s eyes lit up when she looked at her shoes. Why did he always make me feel like I should be embarrassed by happiness? Maybethatwas the thing that wasn’t normal.
“We’re not friends,” Jack said.
“No, we’re fucking not,” I agreed. Everyone in Aspen Springs had chosen a side even if they didn’t know it, and it wasn’t mine. Janie shot me a warning look as she swiped by with a towel. I swigged my beer. “What are those colorful flowers that look like balls?”
Janie scrunched her face like she was thinking. “Dahlias?” She tugged her phone out of her back pocket and tapped thescreen a couple times, then turned it to face me so I could see the picture. “Is this what you mean?”
“Yeah.” I studied the image for a moment. “I like those.”
Jack moved to the barstool next to me and leaned toward Janie’s phone. “Those are nice. My mom grows dahlias.”
A woman down the bar lifted her hand to get Janie’s attention. Janie stuck her phone in her pocket and pushed away from the bar. “Holler if you need something.”
Jack watched her leave, then turned to me. “Why are you at a bar, talking to strangers about fucking flowers, when you want to be home with her?”
I rolled the bottle between my hands. “It’s complicated.”
“Nah, that’s lazy.” Jack shook his head. “It’s pretty simple. If you want to be with her, hooking up with a random woman at a bar is self-sabotage.”
My specialty.
I glanced around the room. A couple girls were here tonight, single by the looks of it. Pretty. One of them met my gaze with a smile and flick of her eyebrow. I waited for a feeling ofsomething, but it never came. Nope, not interested. “You got a better option?”
“My advice?” He tipped his beer to his lips, appraising me over the rim, and took a swallow. “Go home. Take a cold shower.”
