"Does my baby brother have a crush?" Whitney teased.
A bottle of whiskey in each hand, I turned around to scowl at her. "Of course not. She just seems to turn up wherever you are these days."
I placed the bottles on the glass shelf and slid them until they were exactly the same distance apart from all the other bottles. Dad could be a real dick about details like that. As if customers cared.
"Interesting that you noticed," Whitney remarked. She slipped around the side of the bar and leaned her hip against one of the fridges. "It's okay to like people, you know."
"Why would I like anyone?" I adjusted the tequila and vodka bottles before deciding they'd live up to our father's standards. "People are pains in my ass."
"Except Riley." She tipped her head back to look at me in that big sister way she had. Like she had nothing better to do than call me out even if there was nothing to call out.
"Riley's okay." I stepped over until she was out of my personal space and checked the straw dispensers. Wouldn't want those to be empty.
Whitney snorted. "Riley Crane is practically your shadow. I'm surprised he's not here helping."
"He had things to do." He often helped out here the same way I did, cleaning up while dad was busy paying the bills. Today, he was helping his father in their garage. Fixing up some old rust bucket for one of the local guys.
"So, it's not true what they say." She slid me a sly look. "You're not literally joined at the hip."
"What if we are?" I didn't give a shit what anyone said about my relationship with Riley. The only person whose opinion mattered was his. And mine.
"You know what you need?" I turned away from the straw dispenser to fix her with a firm look. "You need a love life so you can stay out of mine."
She barked out a ha. "With whom? I'm related to half the town, and grew up with the other half. Why would I want to date a guy I saw eating crayons in kindergarten?"
"Beggars can't be choosers," I told her.
"Who's begging?" She straightened the straw dispensers as if they weren't exactly where they were supposed to be to start with. "I'm stating a fact. What I need is some hot city boy to swoop in and sweep me off my feet. Preferably disgustingly rich."
"See, that's a problem," I said. "Your standards are too high."
She arched an eyebrow at me. "My standards are just fine, Connor Jacob Ferguson. A girl shouldn't have to settle for less than exactly the right guy for her."
"You've already ruled out the crayon eaters, what does that leave?" I grabbed a clean washcloth to wipe down the beer taps. "The glue eaters? The guys who always had their hand up first when the teacher asked a question? That one kid who ate so many carrots his skin turned orange?" Kid must have been pissing orange. I liked the vegetable as much as the next guy, but not as much as him. I preferred my skin tanned brown, with the odd freckle here or there. I didn't want to look like fruit. Or a vegetable. Whatever.
"Out, out and definitely out." She grimaced. "The fact I know exactly who you're referring to in each case is exactly why I need a city boy to rescue me. A knight in a shining Lamborghini."
Her expression turned to a dreamy one. Typical Whitney. She always had her head up in the clouds. When she went awayfor university, we all thought she'd only come back for holidays, if she came back at all. Taking the job at the local school shocked the hell out of the whole town. Holly too, come to that. People left Aurora Hollow without so much as a glance back in the rear view.
Very few of those who left ever bothered to come back and make the place their home again. Now both of them had, they might encourage others to do the same. With more locals, the town could grow, welcome more tourists. Put us on the map. Some of the townsfolk would say that's a bad thing, but if I could grow my business, I'd welcome it.
"I wish you luck with that," I said. "You might find one next weekend. There's a whole pile of them coming in to thrill seek."
"I'll be sure to be as hospitable as I can." She smiled.
Already the wheels in her mind were turning around and around, making plans to see and be seen. Although, the truth was she was more of a social butterfly than she was a gold digger. She loved nothing more than to talk to people she never met before. If anyone was good at making folks feel at home here, it was my sister. She should give up teaching and become the town ambassador or something. Was that even a thing? Whatever, it could be. If it was, I'd vote for her.
"Yeah, you do that," I said. "I don't need to hear about how hospitable you were to them." My sister's sex life was not something I wanted to hear about. I didn't even want to think ‘Whitney’ and ‘sex life’ in the same sentence.
"Spoilsport." She pouted playfully. "I thought you'd want a?—"
I raised a finger. "Don't finish that sentence." I braced myself, ready with a disgusted look.
"Blow by blow description," she said with a grin.
I closed my eyes and shook my head. "Whit, gross. Pass me the brain bleach."
She laughed. "Don't be such a prude. It's not like I don't know what you get up to and who you get up to it with. I mean, you were the one asking about Leah." She looked pleased with herself for bringing the conversation right back around to that. Of course she was, she always found a way.
