Page 8 of Take Me Slowly, Part 1 (Aurora Hollow duet #1)

CONNOR

I dried the last glass and placed it back in the rack, ready for the evening rush.

"Where's your shadow?" I didn't want Whitney to think I gave a shit, but every time I saw her lately, she was with Leah fucking Kent.

Whitney wiped the last of the tables vigorously and tossed the washcloth across the bar, straight into the sink.

"She shoots. She scores!" She raised her hands victoriously and made a sound like a cheering crowd.

"She didn't answer the question." I smirked.

"She didn't think you were serious." She smirked back. "Who are you talking about anyway? Fiona, Holly or Leah?" She planted her hands on her hips and cocked her head, making her blonde ponytail fall to the side.

Hearing her say Leah's name should not have made my body react.

I shouldn't even be thinking about the city girl.

I should be focused on getting the Frosty Brew organised and planning for next weekend's white water rafting bookings.

Thirty city slickers wanted to take on Aurora Rapids and I was here for it.

Nothing got my blood going faster than sliding down the water, hoping like hell not to end up smashed against the rocks.

I shrugged and turned my back on her to rearrange the bottles of alcohol on the shelves at the back of the bar. None of which were out of place. "The city girl," I said over my shoulder.

"Does my baby brother have a crush?" Whitney teased.

A bottle of whiskey in each hand, I turned around to scowl at her. "Of course not. She just seems to turn up wherever you are these days."

I placed the bottles on the glass shelf and slid them until they were exactly the same distance apart from all the other bottles. Dad could be a real dick about details like that. As if customers cared.

"Interesting that you noticed," Whitney remarked. She slipped around the side of the bar and leaned her hip against one of the fridges. "It's okay to like people, you know."

"Why would I like anyone?" I adjusted the tequila and vodka bottles before deciding they'd live up to our father's standards. "People are pains in my ass."

"Except Riley." She tipped her head back to look at me in that big sister way she had. Like she had nothing better to do than call me out even if there was nothing to call out.

"Riley's okay." I stepped over until she was out of my personal space and checked the straw dispensers. Wouldn't want those to be empty.

Whitney snorted. "Riley Crane is practically your shadow. I'm surprised he's not here helping."

"He had things to do." He often helped out here the same way I did, cleaning up while dad was busy paying the bills. Today, he was helping his father in their garage. Fixing up some old rust bucket for one of the local guys.

"So, it's not true what they say." She slid me a sly look. "You're not literally joined at the hip."

"What if we are?" I didn't give a shit what anyone said about my relationship with Riley. The only person whose opinion mattered was his. And mine.

"You know what you need?" I turned away from the straw dispenser to fix her with a firm look. "You need a love life so you can stay out of mine."

She barked out a ha. "With whom? I'm related to half the town, and grew up with the other half. Why would I want to date a guy I saw eating crayons in kindergarten?"

"Beggars can't be choosers," I told her.

"Who's begging?" She straightened the straw dispensers as if they weren't exactly where they were supposed to be to start with. "I'm stating a fact. What I need is some hot city boy to swoop in and sweep me off my feet. Preferably disgustingly rich."

"See, that's a problem," I said. "Your standards are too high."

She arched an eyebrow at me. "My standards are just fine, Connor Jacob Ferguson. A girl shouldn't have to settle for less than exactly the right guy for her."

"You've already ruled out the crayon eaters, what does that leave?

" I grabbed a clean washcloth to wipe down the beer taps.

"The glue eaters? The guys who always had their hand up first when the teacher asked a question?

That one kid who ate so many carrots his skin turned orange?

" Kid must have been pissing orange. I liked the vegetable as much as the next guy, but not as much as him.

I preferred my skin tanned brown, with the odd freckle here or there.

I didn't want to look like fruit. Or a vegetable. Whatever.

"Out, out and definitely out." She grimaced. "The fact I know exactly who you're referring to in each case is exactly why I need a city boy to rescue me. A knight in a shining Lamborghini."

Her expression turned to a dreamy one. Typical Whitney.

She always had her head up in the clouds.

When she went away for university, we all thought she'd only come back for holidays, if she came back at all.

Taking the job at the local school shocked the hell out of the whole town.

Holly too, come to that. People left Aurora Hollow without so much as a glance back in the rear view.

Very few of those who left ever bothered to come back and make the place their home again.

Now both of them had, they might encourage others to do the same.

With more locals, the town could grow, welcome more tourists.

Put us on the map. Some of the townsfolk would say that's a bad thing, but if I could grow my business, I'd welcome it.

"I wish you luck with that," I said. "You might find one next weekend. There's a whole pile of them coming in to thrill seek."

"I'll be sure to be as hospitable as I can." She smiled.

Already the wheels in her mind were turning around and around, making plans to see and be seen.

Although, the truth was she was more of a social butterfly than she was a gold digger.

She loved nothing more than to talk to people she never met before.

If anyone was good at making folks feel at home here, it was my sister.

She should give up teaching and become the town ambassador or something.

Was that even a thing? Whatever, it could be. If it was, I'd vote for her.

"Yeah, you do that," I said. "I don't need to hear about how hospitable you were to them." My sister's sex life was not something I wanted to hear about. I didn't even want to think ‘Whitney’ and ‘sex life’ in the same sentence.

"Spoilsport." She pouted playfully. "I thought you'd want a?—"

I raised a finger. "Don't finish that sentence." I braced myself, ready with a disgusted look.

"Blow by blow description," she said with a grin.

I closed my eyes and shook my head. "Whit, gross. Pass me the brain bleach."

She laughed. "Don't be such a prude. It's not like I don't know what you get up to and who you get up to it with. I mean, you were the one asking about Leah." She looked pleased with herself for bringing the conversation right back around to that. Of course she was, she always found a way.

"I was curious, that's all," I argued. "I don't want to bang her."

I so wanted to bang her.

Whitney rolled her eyes. "Sure. Because I like you, some of the time, I'll tell you I haven't seen her today. She went home after the market looking tired. I guess us locals wore her out." A crease crossed her brow, just for a moment. One that for some reason made concern settle on my shoulders.

I told myself I didn't give a shit. Why would I? She clearly disliked me as much as I disliked her. The smart thing to do would be to stay the fuck away from her. But no one ever claimed I was smart. Including me.

"Okay, I think we're done here," I grabbed up the washcloths to take them out back and throw them in the washing machine. "Thanks for the help."

"Any time, bro." She grabbed up her bag and phone and headed out the door.

I watched the door for a minute or two after she left before I made up my mind. I stuck my head into Dad's office.

"I'm heading out for a bit. Everything's ready for tonight."

He glanced at me, his face an older version of mine.

Grey hair at his temples, hazel eyes a bit more faded than mine.

Button down shirt rolled up to his elbows and jeans that had seen better days.

Hell, everything in the office had seen better days.

Including the old desktop computer in front of him.

How was that piece of shit still running? Slowly, if I had to guess.

I made a mental note to talk to Whitney about putting our money together to buy him a new one for Christmas. That was the only way he'd accept something like that from us. Except for me, Jacob Ferguson was the proudest man I knew.

He nodded. "Thanks, son. I appreciate the help.

" He always looked like asking me to come to work here full-time was on the tip of his tongue.

He never did though. He knew I was committed to my business with Riley.

Some day I'd take over from him, but for now I was too busy having fun and feeding the adrenaline junkies.

Sitting behind a desk for hours at a time didn't appeal to me.

Would it ever? That was a question for future me.

"Yeah, any time." I backed out and slipped out the back of the building.

My hands in my pockets, I strode down the main street of town, nodding to the people I passed, but not stopping for a chitchat.

Every single face I went by was one I'd known since I was a kid.

I could tell you what they did for a living, where they lived and who their friends were.

I knew their favourite drinks and how they took them.

I knew who skied, who snowboarded, and who preferred to sit in front of a fire and keep warm.

I'd been to the city plenty of times and it always felt so impersonal. No one said hello to anyone else and no one knew your business. Sometimes that was a good thing. Sometimes not. In a place like this, you got used to nosy neighbours. Most of us fit that category.

Trying to look like I wasn't up to anything at all, I strode past a couple of hotels on the edge of town.

One a little fancier than the other. We got all sorts here.

People wanting a five-star experience and those who wanted something a bit more budget friendly.

When people arrived in town ready to spend their money, we weren't too fussy about their means.

Across a side street was the cottage where Fiona lived with her kid, Sarah. Fiona was mouthy as fuck, but Sarah was okay. Except she'd probably grow up just like her mother. Mouthy and giving the boys a hard time every chance she got. Hell, she was probably doing that already.

I stopped outside the cottage beside hers, looking for some sign to tell if Leah was home or not.

I should walk away. Chances were she wouldn't open the door to me anyway. Irritated by that thought, I marched over to the front door and hammered on it. If she was home, she better open up.

After a few moments, the shuffle of footsteps came from inside. The door opened slowly.

I stared. "You look like hell."