Page 17

“Hayes,” a voice as sweet as summertime honey calls out my name.?

I glance up from the menu I was reading, and just like that, the air shifts. Regan Marshall is making her way through the crowd like the whole damn place is parting for her. And maybe it is. She’s got that effect. That magnetism you can’t quite explain but everyone feels.

And damn, she looks gorgeous tonight.

The bar’s low lighting casts a golden glow across her skin, softening every edge and supple curve of her body wrapped up in that tight as sin t-shirt.

But those bright blue eyes? They slice through the space like they’ve got a purpose.

Like they’ve found what they’re looking for, and I’m both excited and terrified that might be me.

Her hair’s twisted up in a messy, no-effort kind of bun that still looks like it belongs on the cover of a country music album.

There’s something about her that feels familiar and entirely disarming.

Like warm pie on a porch swing. Like fireflies and bare feet.

She’s all charm and ease and that slow, southern sweetness that sneaks up on you if you’re not careful.

And I’m not careful. I already know that if I had a type, she’d be it.

And that right there is the problem. Because if fate and destiny, two things I believe in whole-heartedly, keep pushing us together, what does that mean?

And if I let myself lean into that thought, the rest of me will unravel.

And if I fall for a girl like Regan… there’s no getting back up without scars.

“What are you doing in my bar?” she asks, her lips curving playfully, but not quite into a full smile.

“Nice to see you too,” I reply, grinning. “Hey, we’re not enemies, right?”

She presses her lips together, chewing on that thought for a moment before she nods.

“You’re right. But we are both bidding for the same property.”

“Rivals, maybe?” I suggest, leaning back in my seat, enjoying the dance of banter.

“To be rivals, both of us has to have a real shot at winning and the way I see it, only one of us does.”

I laugh loudly and she smiles despite herself.

“I came because I had a free night,” I explain. “Rare night off from the hospital, and I was curious to check out this place. I hear your family practically owns this whole town. Feels like no matter where I go, it’s a Marshall business that I’m hearing about.”

Her smile grows, and she leans casually on the bar. “That is true which is why I’m going to get the Mayberry Manor.” She nods her head to the counter in front of me. “So, what are you drinking, cowboy?”

“What’s good here?”

She narrows her eyes, amused. “That’s a bold thing to ask the owner of the place. Everything’s good, of course, but if you want my recommendation, we’ve got a spring whiskey Colt just released. I helped develop it with Molly.”

“Sold. I’ll take that.”

I watch her as she moves, her hands steady while she pours the dark amber liquid into a pretty, custom designed glass.

Her shirt’s tucked neatly into her jeans, and a few stray strands of hair frame her neck, curling just slightly against her skin.

I study the fullness of her lips, and the tiny smatter of freckles across her small nose and decide she’s got the prettiest face I’ve ever seen too.

She reminds me a lot of the actress Brittany Snow which happens to be one of my first crushes as a kid.

When she sets the glass in front of me, I lean forward, catching the scent before taking a sip.

“Damn,” I say, impressed. “That’s good. Now who are Colt and Molly?”

She grins. “Colt’s my twin brother. Molly’s my best friend turned sister-in-law.”

“Sounds like there’s a story there.”

“Oh, there is,” she says, chuckling softly. “But it worked out perfectly for them. They’re solid and I couldn’t be happier to have Molly as family.”

“How many Marshalls are we talking now? Just so I know who to watch out for when I inevitably buy the Mayberry property.”

She rolls her eyes with a laugh. “Five kids total and then my dad.”

“Five? Shit, that’s a lot.”

She laughs. “I think my dad would agree. But it works out when you’ve got a million businesses to run.”

“I bet. So now that I’ve crossed Whitewood Creek Brewery off my list, what’s next? What’s the must-see Marshall spot?”

She leans against the counter, thinking. “Well, we’ve got a flagship restaurant in Charlotte, there’s the egg farm here where we raise organic, GMO-free, free-range hens, and then the distillery where we brew all our spirits and ship them out across the country.”

“Eggs and booze? That’s… an unexpected combo.”

She nods, grinning. “The egg farm came first. The distillery was Colt’s idea, and the breweries and restaurants, well those grew out of it. Part of Colt’s… post-prison reinvention with my other brothers.”

My glass hits the bar hard, some of the whiskey spilling over the edge. “Uh, Prison?”

Her grin widens, and she grabs a towel to wipe up the spill. “You’re in my house now, so don’t be messy. Or rude.”

I raise an eyebrow, intrigued. “Wait—have you been to prison too?” I ask, lowering my voice conspiratorially.

She throws her head back, laughing. “Look, Hayes, I’d have to hustle a lot harder to keep up with my brother’s record. But no, I’ve managed to stay on the right side of the law, at least the side that hasn’t caught me yet.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” I tease, smirking. “You had me completely under your spell the night we spent together. I wouldn’t have been surprised if you’d lifted my wallet.”

I catch the faintest pink rising in her cheeks from my unexpected compliment. “I actually did steal something,” she says, leaning in closer.

“What?”

“A pack of gum from your jeans.”

I smack my palm against the bar. “I fucking knew it.”

She shakes her head, laughing too. “No, you didn’t.”

“Alright, maybe not. I just figured Samuel took it.”

Her laughter is light and infectious, and as I take another sip of the whiskey, I know coming here tonight was the right call.

I’d been sitting in my motel room, bored as hell like I am every night where I don’t work, wishing I had place to roam and move about.

A place like the Mayberry’s where I could be off riding or doing manual labor.

And it is luck, or maybe fate, that Regan happened to be working here tonight.

She’s still got that pull on me, magnetic and irresistible.

And judging by the way she’s looking at me, I’m not the only one feeling it.

Plus, I haven’t had a night off since I took the job at the community hospital in town and frankly, it’s good for me to meet some new people, make some friends.

“Samuel…” her eyes narrow slightly, “that’s a bit of a throwback name, huh? He was on the circuit with you, right? The young guy who rode right before you?”

I nod, gripping my whiskey glass a little tighter. I hadn’t meant to bring him up, especially not tonight. Samuel’s not exactly my favorite topic to discuss, and definitely not when I’m trying to take it easy and unwind.

“Yep,” I say simply, taking a long sip to shut myself up.

“Hm,” she hums, watching me closely but thankfully, doesn’t pry further.

“So, what’s got you so invested in Mrs. Mayberry’s property?” I ask, steering the conversation back to her. “Other than the fact that it sounds like it holds all your childhood dreams and memories.”

She bites her bottom lip, holding back a smile. “Obviously, the wedding business.”

“You really want to expand the Marshall empire, huh?”

“Is that a problem?” she counters, her voice sharp, but there’s a spark of passion in her eyes.

“I love it. I love the idea of making couples’ dreams come true.

There’s nowhere in town to get married. People have to drive to Charlotte or Raleigh, or they end up tying the knot in someone’s backyard.

Mrs. Mayberry’s property is perfect for a venue.

Cash has already started developing an outdoor building on the Marshall land for ceremonies, but… ”

“So why not just stick to your family’s property?” I ask, cutting her off.

She stiffens, her nose wrinkling like I just suggested something disgusting.

“Because it wouldn’t be mine,” she says, her voice low but fierce.

“Not fully, not solely . The cottages on Mrs. Mayberry’s land are ideal for overnight stays—for the bride, the groom, the wedding party.

And it’s private, unlike the Marshall property, which already feels like Grand Central Station with all our other businesses and homes.

Beyond that…” She pauses, her gaze softening, almost wistful.

“This was her and Mr. Mayberry’s dream. I love the idea of honoring that and bringing their vision to life. ”

Her eyes take on that far-off, dreamy look that reminds me of my sister Scarlett when she’s waxing poetic about something.

It’s a little endearing, and for a moment, I just watch her, savoring how pretty she looks when she’s lost in her own head.

But I can’t help myself. I have to bring her back down to earth because the reality of her situation is that she’s not going to get the Manor without a major change in her life.

“Is it really that much of a goldmine?” I ask, one eyebrow raised.

“Weddings are expensive , Hayes,” she says, rolling her eyes. “We’re talking twenty grand, minimum, for a weekend. I take it you’ve never been married before?”

“I haven’t, but that’s a hell of a lot of money to spend on one day,” I say, leaning back. “Maybe it won’t be such a bad idea for me to do that when I buy the place.”

Her eyes narrow dangerously as she groans. “Don’t even think about it. The property will be mine. I have a plan.”

“Oh yeah? What’s your plan?” I lean forward, grinning. “Gonna re-propose to your ex?”

Her mouth drops open, and for a moment, she looks like she’s too stunned to speak.

“W-what?” she finally stammers, her voice barely a whisper.