Page 27 of About Yesterday (Foothills #5)

Fake it ’til you make it

T race was instantly swallowed by the chaos that was Ahab’s. Fishing nets on walls and ceilings, a freaking boat on the ceiling, murals of old-fashioned whaling scenes. And, the requisite billiards, darts, high top tables, and enough people they were probably pushing the safety limit.

A mouse-like squeal chirped in her ear, its owner bobbing a bouncy leap as Pippa ambushed her from the side like a velociraptor.

Wiry arms wrapped around her and angled her away from her trajectory. Pippa Sutherland had a plan, and Trace knew there was no escape.

With desperation sparkling in her smile, she looked back at Haley, but her lifeline only laughed and rolled her eyes, and then topped off the abandonment with a tiny, possibly sympathetic wave.

“You scared the shit out of me,” Trace chuffed at Pippa, making herself as narrow as possible as they pushed crossways through the crowd surrounding the bar.

“Before we sit down,” Pippa said gallantly, “I have someone I want to introduce you to.”

Shit. It was becoming contagious. An unstated mission that had spread from her parents to her work crew, and now, even her loyal friends and, soon, all of Foothills would be actively trying to solve Trace’s third-wheel problem.

It would be another nice guy. The sort that said her red hair was pretty. Her freckles interesting. Her personality sweet. He would take these marriageable traits and not risk desperately hiking up her skirt and doing her against the wall, because nice girls needed to be carefully wooed.

Not that she was against wooing. But a spicy date capped off by a wall-banger should be part of said wooing.

While Trace scanned the crowd for a rescue, she realized none was coming.

Some of her friends were sliding tables together, a few catching up with other people who obviously did not need a rescue right now, all while Pippa chattered incoherently about some great guy who Trace hoped wasn’t the one wearing the sweater vest ahead.

In a last ditch effort, she looked back toward the entrance, at least to check on Cole, to make sure he had made it in okay, or if he’d done the smart thing and run like hell.

Smack. Trace eeked as she slammed into Pippa. “Sorry,” she muttered, realizing she had foolishly trusted Pippa to guide her safely while she’d checked for Cole.

Oh. Pippa might be more trustworthy than the rest. Feet steadying under her, Trace moved to Pippa’s side and looked up at the nice guy Pippa had found for her.

Jeans and a tee, flannel shirt, hiking boots.

He fit the northwest guy bill, always a plus.

He bit his bottom lip as he seemed to realize Pippa had brought him a treat, and he laughed under his breath, looking back at a group of guys across the crowd.

And then he landed his chocolaty brown eyes on Trace, and she could easily have melted.

Pippa laughed like this was the jolliest coincidence. “Eli. What a coincidence running into you here.”

A giant with an award-winning smile, he didn’t slouch, but he wasn’t intimidating. “Hey, Pippa. Remember, we talked about it this morning? When you asked my plans for this weekend, and I mentioned my brothers were in town, and you suggested I take them here?”

“Of course. I was just being ironic,” she said with a phony sheepish laugh.

She hooked her arm sharper around Trace and tugged her closer, throwing off Trace’s balance.

“I’ll let you get back to your brothers.

But first, since you’re new to Foothills…

this is my friend Trace. She teaches French at the high school. ”

“Bonjour,” he said, hooking what might be a little devilishness in the grin as he settled his attention on Trace.

A cluster of cusses came from the entry area, and Trace shot her attention back to make sure it wasn’t Cole.

Lips bit tight together, she scanned through the crowd.

Adrenaline had surged fast, and released into her veins with a soothing warmth as she saw Cole walking in, stepping easily around the rowdy group and looking like he didn’t have a care in the world.

An elbow rammed into Trace’s side.

She quickly shifted her focus back and sported her friendliest smile. “ Enchanté. ”

“I don’t actually speak French,” the nice guy said, a blush pinking his cheeks, but he laughed it off.

Pippa jumped in to the rescue. “Eli teaches middle school science. He just moved to Foothills this year.”

“Yeah,” he answered, adjusting his weight from one foot to the other and sinking his hands into his pockets. He looked past her, flashed a subtle shake of his head, and looked back to Trace. “My brothers flooded town last night for my birthday.”

“That’s great,” Trace said, shifting her angle and glancing toward Cole again. “Where are you all from?”

“Boise,” he said, towering over the crowd that could easily have shoved him in any direction, but he seemed to be the pillar that traffic wove around.

Pippa sneakily slipped out of sight, leaving Trace trapped the moment it seemed Eli was settling in for at least a meet-and-greet.

“Are you from here?” he asked. He was cute. Those gooey brown eyes and that honest grin exuded an energy that eager young scientists would be drawn to.

“Yes,” she said, drifting a look toward the door one more time.

Damn, Cole was like no one else. That subtle swagger.

She shouldn’t have been surprised after he’d showed off his multiple personas, a chameleon who could be whoever he needed to be.

Tonight, he’d gone with the badass persona, the piercing gray eyes declaring he was not to be fucked with, the hint of a smile that said he knew everything everyone was thinking, and he was lightly amused to be here, but this wasn’t his type of hangout.

Good strategy to deter friendly attempts to catch up in case he ran into anyone he knew.

“I grew up here. Just moved back last year,” she continued, brightening her smile for Eli.

“Do you have any brothers or sisters?”

Wow, okay, going for the full get-to-know-you, and not subtle about it. At least he was adorable. Adorable was not boring. She laughed vaguely, having no idea how to actually answer that question. “Not exactly.”

There was no polite way to escape without looking like she didn’t find him adorable. Pippa was absolutely going to pay. The timing could have been better.

She glanced back, but couldn’t see Cole anymore.

“What does ‘not exactly’ mean?” Eli teased, relaxing into his posture.

“It means sort of but not really,” she said, laughing at her own confusing remark and stuffing her hands in her pockets. “Sorry, that is a straightforward question, but the answer isn’t always straightforward.”

“No, I get it. I mean, we’re a pretty nontraditional family.

” He gestured a nod toward to the guys at the billiard table, smiling sweetly as they ragged on each other.

“Sorry, we don’t let them out in public much.

I’m sure you can see why,” he teased, grimacing playfully as he watched them. Even a good sense of humor.

“They look like a fun group,” Trace said as she watched them for a moment.

“I’m with those ones.” She pointed to her friends, right as Sophie was being coronated with the infamous penis crown, and Asher had his arms pinned down by Zane while Grady pinned a big, shiny gold “grand prize” ribbon to his shirt.

“I swear, they’re not even drunk,” she said.

“Hey, oh, shit, was it… Tracy? I’m terrible with names.”

A squeal eeked in her jaw as she masked her grimace with a commiserating smile. “Legally. Please, just Trace.”

“Trace, huh? I, uh—“ Eli laughed under his breath, and a less than nice guy curiosity flashed in his look, and she could tell he knew how to not play it safe.

But he stuck to safety. “Trace, of course. Can I get you a drink?” he offered, nodding to the bar.

“I was actually on my way to order another round.”

Trace scanned the crowd again. Why wasn’t Cole at the table yet? She hadn’t meant to unleash on him in the car like she had.

“No thanks, I—“

Before she could finish her sentence, a palm spread on her low back, fingers around her waist, and a glass of white wine appeared in front of her face. Soft against the rumble of the music, so close she felt the warmth of his breath on her skin, Cole said, “I’ll save you a seat.”

Save you a seat? Trace growled low under her breath. Shitty timing. And confusing as hell. Before she could either thank him for the drink or elbow him in the middle for being an ass, he was gone.

Eli caught the interaction, suddenly looking uncomfortable. “I, uh, won’t keep you. It was really nice meeting you. Maybe I’ll see you around,” he said as he nodded toward the bar, a last-ditch hopefulness in his eyes, as if waiting for her to explain Cole.

There was no reasonable explanation for Cole.

“It was really nice meeting you, too. I’ll see you around,” she said, holding her smile, but she knew her posture said she was eager to follow the inexplicable whatever-he-was she came here with.

As Eli walked away, Trace stood in the middle of the chaotic, unusual bar and took a long sip of wine.

At their table, Sophie wore her white “bride” tank top, but now Asher wore the penis crown, and the ribbon was pinned in Sophie’s hair like a tacky bow, and they whispered lovingly in the corner, while everyone else carried on.

Trace sipped more on her wine, her feet adhered to the ground, and not just because of the stickiness brought on by years of spilled cocktails.

Confidence engaged, Cole grinned as he said hellos on reaching the table, shaking hands with the ones he hadn’t met yet.

Of course, she hadn’t expected anything less, but still, it was nice to see.