Page 15 of One Chance to Stay (Bears of Firefly Valley #4)

The upstairs of the American Legion stood like a time capsule.

Dark wood paneling covered the walls, reflecting the bright neon-orange shag carpet.

The bar had been wrapped in soft leather, a similar neon to the rug.

If that wasn’t enough to hurl me back fifty years, the men attending the bachelor party were old enough to have drunk here the night construction finished.

The five men sitting at the bar could have been my father. They were a grumbling bunch who spoke a language of scoffing and half-sentences. The only thing separating them was the baseball caps they wore. Vietnam Veteran. Desert Storm Veteran. Proud Marine. 82 nd Infantry.

I cracked open another beer, sliding it in front of the man in the middle. “Semper Fi,” I said.

“That’s the Marine Corps,” he grumbled. “Those jar heads would be lost without us.”

“Hey,” the Marine said. “You flyboys?—”

“Don’t even start,” he replied.

I searched back and forth, hoping Abraham would appear.

After he showed me my station, he vanished down the hall.

I could hear the familiar clack of the cue ball and prayed he finished his game.

There were almost two dozen men in attendance, and my attempts to connect had gone painfully wrong at every step.

This bachelor party needed some oomph. Never in my life had I prayed for a stripper to break through the door. Hell, I’d settle for Mabel Syrup performing her greatest show tunes. They might have thwarted my attempts so far, but I would not go down without swinging.

“Okay, gentleman, I can’t let you keep drinking this swill.”

“It’s beer,” Mr. Air Force protested.

“This is a bachelor party, and that’s the bottom of the barrel. We can do better.”

All five grumbled.

Bartender powers activate. Air Force was the leader of this ragtag militia. If I could turn him, the others would fall in line.

I scrounged behind the bar looking for my tools of the trade. It had all the ingredients necessary for cocktails. The hard alcohol had dust on it, thick enough to suggest they had been purchased when the building opened. We were going to change that tonight.

“I’m going to introduce you to some class.”

The Marine elbowed Air Force. “Something he desperately needs.” All but Air Force laughed. It was a good start.

I grabbed five glasses and set them on the counter upside down. With precision, I flipped them over, taking the last and tossing it from behind my back over my shoulder. Slam. All five men jumped.

“This little concoction is going to put some hair on your chest.” I winked. “Maybe some back on your head.”

I had their attention.

Simple Syrup. Water. Bitters. I dashed each into the glass, giving each one a quick swirl.

When I held up the bourbon, I coughed in surprise.

They had top-shelf alcohol hiding down here.

I spun it in my hand, giving it a flip before bouncing it off the inside of my elbow.

They weren’t impressed with the theatrics, not yet.

I poured down the line. Setting the bottle aside, I reached into the grocery bag. Good thing I had come prepared, otherwise these men would celebrate a momentous occasion with swill. That’d crush my bartending heart.

The cherries plopped into each glass, and now I needed to finish with a bit of orange zest. I skinned the orange and popped a lighter from my pocket. With a quick burn of the ends, I twisted the rinds and dropped them into the glasses.

“Gentlemen, enjoy the best drink you’ll have all night.”

The Marine was the only one to lift his glass. With a quick swirl, he sucked in a breath before having a sip. He cracked a smile. “Well, damn. The boy knows how to make a drink.” With his endorsement, the others did the same, and the grumbles vanished with a series of mmm sounds.

I glanced past the veterans to see Seamus standing in the doorway. His dark red button-down made the white of his beard stand out. We locked eyes, and I thought he’d turn away. He held my gaze. The intensity in his eyes left my cheeks burning, and I had to look at my newest patrons.

“We’ll be back for another round,” the Marine said.

The Flyboy slid off his stool, his Old Fashioned in one hand, and his cheap beer in the other. I had expanded their palettes, but none of them were going to give up their trashy beers. With them heading toward the billiards room, only Seamus remained.

“Funny story,” I said, wiping down the countertop. “I bumped into a lovely lady at the grocery store.”

Seamus moved forward, taking a seat at the bar. He didn’t speak. I expected him to leave the moment we were alone, but his staying spoke volumes. His expression, however, did not.

“Grace is a lovely woman.”

He nodded in agreement. “Yes, she is.”

“Did you know she can smile? She must have gotten that from her mom. ‘Cause there’s no way she inherited her dad’s personality.” I leaned across the bar, getting dangerously close to the burly man. “Unless you’re secretly a giddy man who smiles when nobody’s looking.”

Nothing.

“I’m glad you came.”

“Grace made me.”

“I’m glad Grace made you.”

It wasn’t my imagination. The corner of his lip turned up.

From him, it might as well be a bear hug followed by a high-five.

Barely noticeable, it eased the tension in my shoulders.

Things between us could have been weird, but he gave me permission to set aside my worry.

Now that I knew it was possible, I’d strive for another.

I flashed a grin. “Seamus, welcome to my world.” I gestured to the entire bar. “Are you ready to be dazzled?”

I didn’t wait for an answer. Pulling a beer from the sink filled with ice, I set it down in front of him. I snatched the bottle opener, spinning it between my fingers like a pro. It hooked on the cap, and I paused, narrowing my eyes and shaking my head. No, no beer for him.

I lifted a snifter, waggling my eyebrows.

He held still as if made of granite. I let the glass roll down my arm, reaching my elbow, and I snapped it into the air.

With a quick spin, I caught it behind my back, slamming it in front of him.

Moving onto the ice scoop, I dropped one, two, three, four cubes.

Still nothing.

I reached into the bag, pulling the bourbon I thought the fine gentlemen of this bachelor party would devour.

Not all of Seamus’s friends had his refined palette.

Balancing it on one finger, I gave it a light spin.

Despite pulling out every ounce of bartender flair, he didn’t move.

I’m not sure he even blinked as I put on a show.

It ended with popping the cork and pouring him a drink.

“Thanks.”

“Thanks? I did everything but a backflip, and all I get from you is a thanks? Seamus, where is your love of the dramatic? The flair? Do I need to juggle?” He held up the glass and offered a small salute. “You better leave a big tip.”

Sliding off his stool, he reached into his pocket and held up a couple of dollars before sliding them into the jar. Unable to read him, I nearly let out a slight growl.

“It’s plenty big,” he mumbled with a slight lift of the brow.

I— Did he— As he walked away, I nearly laughed out loud. Three words, and my stoic grump landed a blow to the gut. Now that he mentioned it, I couldn’t help but imagine him butt naked as he exited the room. Three small words described a part of him I would call anything but small.

As soon as he vanished down the hallway, a man appeared at the door next to the bar. Wearing a tiara, he had what I’d call a goofy smile, showing enough teeth to be a serial killer.

“I owe Abraham,” he said as he leaned over the bar.

“I hear congratulations are in order.” He could only be the infamous Walter. Evelyn had told me enough stories to know he could only be one of two men. “Where’s your other half?”

“Harvey? He’s getting the snacks before the game.”

I snorted. Yup, she warned me about Walter and his platonic life mate. When I asked if Harvey would be the best man, Evelyn laughed. Apparently, that wasn’t honor enough. Walter demanded that his best friend give him away.

“I might have drank Frank’s cocktail. Can you whip up two more? No. Make that three. Harvey will want one.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. Now this is a bachelor party I could get behind. Cocktails, snacks, and a football game. We’d see if the night ended with regrets or somebody hugging the toilet. If I could bang the drinks out fast enough, maybe I’d get more face time with a certain handsome man.

“Let’s get the groom-to-be a drink.”

With a final wipe of the counter, I decided to wander about the second floor of the American Legion.

The walls were covered in plaques dedicated to their contributions to the community.

More than a few medals hung with the owner in a nearby photo.

I knew nothing about military life, but I could feel the pride as I moved from one photograph to the next.

The party moved to a room filled with a dozen oversized recliners and a massive television.

Try as I might to bring a bit of flair to the party, the only one still drinking cocktails was Harvey.

It’d explain why he snored loudly as the rest of their bachelor party screamed at the television, swearing that the refs were on the take.

I continued wandering and found an empty office.

On the door, a placard read, ‘Commander,’ while the desk sat under a mountain of paperwork.

I knew the town had its fair share of veterans, but I didn’t think they did more than run the monthly Bingo night.

It didn’t seem they were short on administrative work.

A loud clack from the furthest room grabbed my attention. Following the walls lined in dark paneling, I stepped into a large room with nothing more than a pool table and a couple of high-top tables in the corner. Seamus stood over the table, racking up the balls.

“You play?” I asked.