“You okay?” Harry asked. “Need us to hang with you for support?”
I spotted Cody sitting at the bar, a beer in his hand. I gathered my courage, again promising myself not to stay long, knowing that if things went pear-shaped it was only a matter of time before I was curled up safely in bed again, a book in my hands and another universe to lose myself in.
“No, I think I’m okay. But thank you.”
Harry patted me on the shoulder. “We’ll be sitting just over there in that booth if you need us.”
With that, Harry wrapped his arm around Dean’s shoulder, and they took up their spot for the night.
I inhaled deeply, then made my way over to the Australian at the bar.
On the jukebox, the Four Tops were belting out “Reach Out, I’ll Be There” as though singing me a personal pep talk.
Cody looked up as I approached, his smile easy, the kind that made me wish I’d practiced not just my lines but my facial expressions.
“There he is,” he said warmly, raising his bottle in greeting. “Right on time. I was starting to think you’d stood me up.”
“I told you I wasn’t even going to come.”
He sucked on his beer bottle. “Yeah, didn’t believe that for a second.”
“Need I remind you, this isn’t something one could be stood up from. That sentence came out weird, but you know what I mean. This isn’t a—well, it’s not adate. It’s a drink.”
“Sure,” Cody said, eyes twinkling. “A very punctual, very bow-tied drink.”
I tugged at my collar. “I always value punctuality. And presentation.”
He leaned back on his stool, completely relaxed. “And I value spontaneity and comfort. Guess we’re covering both ends of the spectrum tonight.”
I perched myself stiffly on the stool beside him, folding my hands defensively. “If you’re suggesting that opposites attract, I don’t believe that for a second. That’s a trope reserved for romance novels. It couldn’t possibly work out in real life.”
“Guess we’ll find out,” Cody said, taking another long sip and finishing off his beer.
Before I could decide whether that was flirtation or simply Australian bluntness, Aunt Bea glided toward us in a storm of sequins and rhinestones, her purple wig enough to rival the chandelier overhead.
“Well, well, well. The bookstore prince has finally left his tower to meet his sun-bronzed Prince Charming. I knew the two of you would fall into my trap… I mean, take up my invitation. Now, let’s get to the good part—what are we drinking? And don’tyou dare say soda water with lime, Brooks. This is a bar, not a spa.”
“I happen to like soda water,” I said, bristling.
“You happen to be a lost cause,” Bea shot back. She flicked her gaze to Cody. “What about you, handsome? Another beer?”
“You betcha,” Cody said with a grin, clearly loving every ounce of Bea’s flamboyance.
“See? A man who knows what he wants. Be more like him, Brooks.” She tapped the bar with her nails. “So? Live a little. What’s it gonna be?”
I sat straighter. “Soda water. With lime.”
“Fine. Vodka lime and soda, coming right up.”
I knew this was a fight I wasn’t going to win, so I just let Bea fix the drinks. In all fairness, I actually enjoyed a vodka on the odd occasion. I just didn’t intend to enjoy one in front of Cody, in case I loosened up a little too much. If nothing else, I was intent on keeping my guard up and my wits about me.
“There you go, my peach blossoms,” Bea said, sliding the drinks across the bar to us. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to tend to the bane of my existence. That naughty boy, Bo Harlow, has had one too many tipples, which means I’m off to squeeze some nipples. Play nice now. That means you, Brooks darling.”
She moved around the bar and across the floor with a shimmer of authority. A few moments later we all heard a squeal of pain from Bo.
“Wow, nobody messes with Aunt Bea, huh?” commented Cody.
“Absolutely not,” I said. “She puts the fear of God into God himself.”
