Page 31 of Hideaway Heart

“Yeah. My brother Austin’s family—that’s Adelaide’s dad—also lives in Cherry Tree Harbor.”

“I’d like to meet them.”

I was thinking about asking her if she’d like to go to the barbecue tomorrow, but then she started singing along with the radio, and I got distracted. Her voice was warm and pretty—it sort of wrapped around you like a blanket—and I heard none of the mournful tone from earlier. She seemed like she was in a much better mood, and it made me feel good.

When we pulled into the parking lot of the Backwoods Bar and Grill, I could tell by the number of cars parked beyond the asphalt on the grass that the place was probably at capacity or beyond. “Got a hat in your bag, by any chance?”

She glanced at her shoulder bag. “Shoot—no. I forgot it.”

“Let me see what I have.” I got out of the car and opened the hatch in the back, spotting a black Two Buckleys Home Improvement cap. Grabbing it, I shut the hatch and walked around to the passenger side, where she’d just hopped out. “Here,” I said. “Wear this.”

She read the front of it. “Two Buckleys? Which two?”

“My dad and my brother Austin.”

“Ah.” She stuck the cap on her head, pulling it low on her forehead. “How’s that?”

Fucking adorable, actually, but all I did was nod. “Keep your head down. When we get to whatever table they give us, take the seat facing the wall or window, not the door.”

She saluted. “I’m ready to go in, coach.”

* * *

As expected, the place was crammed with people. Keeping Kelly right in front of me, I maneuvered through the throng and had a quick word with Eric, who said he’d let the hostess know we were here, but it would be a few minutes. I bought a couple beers and tugged Kelly over to one corner of the bar. With my back to the wall, I instructed her to face me.

She stood close, her breasts nearly grazing my shirt. The scent of her perfume caused my body temperature to rise. Trying not to breathe in too deeply, I gripped my beer and concentrated on staying aware of our surroundings.

After a couple minutes, she started to laugh.

“What’s so funny?” I asked, glancing down at her.

“Your face. You look like you’re ready to kill somebody.”

“I’m just trying to give off the vibe of an unfriendly, possessive boyfriend. I don’t want anyone approaching us.”

Her eyebrows shot up. “So we’re pretending to be on a date, is that it?”

“No.” I frowned. “That is not it.”

She giggled again. “Oh, come on. I don’t get to go on normal dates. It could be fun! We could make up little pet names for each other, like bear-bear and mudbug.”

“We will not be doing anything of the kind.”

“You’re the worst fake boyfriend ever.” She stuck her tongue out at me.

“Buckley? Party of two?” the hostess called from the entrance to the dining room.

She tucked her hand into my elbow. “Come on, bear-bear.”

I scanned the crowd as we crossed to a booth in the back left corner of the restaurant. Mostly families at this hour. A few groups of friends. As instructed, Kelly slid into the side facing the back wall, and I took the side facing the room. “Thanks,” I told the hostess.

“Sure,” she said, handing us two menus. “Your server will be right over.”

“So is this where you bring all your dates?” Kelly asked as I pulled out my phone and entered the info about the car I’d seen on the side of the road.

“I don’t date much.”

“Why not?”