Page 15 of Honky Tonk Cowboy

She knew he liked her. More than liked her. Was attracted to her. He was clinging to his lifestyle and now she thought she knew why. It kept him away from his family. He felt unworthy of the Brand name. He hadn’t told anyone else about that feeling.

Nor had he told anyone else about his unwanted inheritance, other than Chelsea and Garrett.

In her mind’s eye, Lily saw Manny’s Cantina from the front. She’d never seen the rear of the place. She wondered what was back there, and how far the property extended. Part of that area could solve the parking issue, and then the front lot could be replaced by a patio, and they could put an entire section of outdoor tables there, rather than the handful tucked up next to the building on the hot pavement.

Her brain wouldn’t stop chattering, so she got up, pulled on a light-blue robe, and went to the little desk near her bedroom window. She sat down and flipped open her laptop, opened a blank document and started typing. There would have to be shade, and some kind of sound barrier between the place and the road. She looked around the desk, found a pencil, but nothing to draw on. Not a notepad, not a piece of scrap paper. Ah, the printer! She yanked a few sheets from the feed tray and returned to the desk chair and leaned over to sketch out some ideas. She drew a curving brick boundary wall with a rock garden and pair of cacti. Oh, and off the front, they could add a serving station with warmers and coolers for the most popular dishes.

Her phone chimed and she picked it up and looked at it. And then her heart jumped.

Ethan: You still up?

Smiling so much while all alone in a room was probably a sign of idiocy, she thought. But it felt like there were springs in the corners of her lips. Idiocy.

She keyed back a one-word answer.

Lily: Yes.

Ethan: I took your advice. Called a bunkhouse bonfire with the cousins. Tomorrow night, if you want to come.

Her brain typed out YES!!!! But she forced her fingers to tap the word, “Sure,” instead. And then, on autopilot, “What can I bring?”

Ethan: Would love some of that dip you made at Christmas.

She smiled, warm right to her toes.

Lily: Dad’s recipe. I’ll make a jumbo batch.

Ethan: Thanks.

She held the phone, waiting for more, but he didn’t say anything else, and the silence stretched to awkward. She had to reply somehow. You’re welcome? YW? De nada?

Ethan: What do you think they’ll say when I tell them?

She mulled on that for a moment. But it didn’t take long.

Lily: They’re your family. They’ll want you take over the Cantina and stay.

Ethan: Yeah.

Lily: At first. But if you ask them to be objective, they’ll try. And good ideas will follow.

He sent back prayer hands. Then…

Ethan: So what’s keeping you awake?

Lily looked at her sketches and notes.

Lily: Something that’s none of my business.

Ethan: Mysterious.

Lily: Ideas for the cantina. They wouldn’t let me sleep till I got them down.

Ethan: Bring them tomorrow night?

Lily: And dip, right?

Ethan: And dip, yes. See you around eight?