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The moment was quiet again, but this time it pulsed, charging the air between us.
“This was nice, having dinner like this,” I said softly. “Unexpected, but nice.”
He nodded, his eyes on mine. “Yeah. We probably shouldn’t make it a habit, though, since we’ll be working together.”
“Definitely not,” I agreed, even if I already wished we could.
Above us, the sky shifted to deep violet, stars winking into view like they were watching. Waiting to see what we would do.
That told me it was time to leave. I’d save my dessert for later tonight, and my sanity, when I was alone in my bed, thinking of him with every bite.
5
NO WAY IN HELL
KEATON
A few weeksinto this marketing gig with Sophie and I’d become hooked. Not only was I kicking myself for not hiring a marketing person long before now, given how much Sophie’s ideas touched almost every facet of my business—and made it better—but I’d gotten used to having the city girl in my office. From the way her scent permeated the room first thing in the morning, to the way her skirts softly swished as she sashayed in and out of it.
But today, Sophie wasn’t here.
No soft knock on the front door ten minutes before we opened. No humming while she worked, or laptop cords snaking into my territory. Just silence, an empty chair, and the faint ghost of floral perfume lingering in the air. Things weren’t the same.
“Uh-oh. You’ve got that look,” Jessa said as she came through the swinging doors from the storage room, clipboard in one hand and a lollipop between her right cheek and teeth. “Like a man who just realized his morning coffee tastes better when delivered by a pretty brunette.”
I rolled my eyes. “Sophie’s not my coffee delivery girl. She’s a marketing consultant.”
“Sure. If you say so,” she drawled, perching her curvy frame against the edge of the bar and flipping her blonde hair behind her. “Come on, Keaton. Just admit it. You’ve got a little crush.”
I snorted. “On Sophie? No. It’s a working relationship. She’s here to help with the brand relaunch, not... whatever this is you’re conjuring up.”
Jessa gave me an infuriatingly perceptive look. With her blonde waves pulled up in a messy bun, sunglasses perched on top like a crown, she was part small-town sass, part bartender babe, and all heart—though she kept that part locked tight, with good reason. I doubted anyone knew her in town as well as I’d come to know her over the years working together here at Hops.
“Don’t lie to me, Kingston. I’ve seen the way you look at her. All smolder and side glances.”
“You’re wrong. I smolder at every woman who walks into this place,” I muttered. “Especially the cute ones.”
She snorted. “And I appreciate the extra tips that go into our tip jar because you do. But there’s something extra about Sophie. You change when she’s around.”
I shook my head, grabbing the inventory sheets from behind the bar. “Shouldn’t you be helping me restock before the Fourth of July rush hits?”
“Trying to distract me with work? You don’t play fair, boss man.”
We got into the rhythm of it quickly, checking off bottles, pulling cases from the stockroom or cooler, and reorganizing shelves. Jessa scribbled notes, cracked jokes, and occasionally rapped her knuckles on the bar when I zoned out.
“You’re still thinking about Sophie, aren’t you?” she asked, double checking through the sheets before calling the job done.
“Nope. There’s nothing to think about.”
“You’re a terrible liar.” She rolled her eyes. “Should I be worried she’s about to take my place as your work wife?”
I chuckled despite myself. “You know you’re irreplaceable.”
“Damn right.” She grinned. “But if Iwasbeing replaced as your work wife, I’d want ample advance notice, please. It’s a small town and it’s hard to find a decent job.”
Jessa hadn’t always had it easy. She’d stayed in town after high school to help raise her younger siblings when her mom got sick, their father long gone years prior. Never complained. She showed up on time, stayed late, and ran this place like it was her own. I’d wondered once if maybe there could’ve been something between us.
She made it clear, though—after one slightly tipsy night when we almost kissed—that I wasnother type. I agreed she was too valuable of an employee to ruin with anything else.