by Jaci Burton
Deacon took the fresh beer Bash had given him and raised it. “To engineers—the assholes.”
Reid laughed. “I’ll drink to that.”
They talked about their day for a while, then Reid went out to check on Not My Dog. He and Lou were barking furiously at a cat that was calmly strolling by the fence, ignoring them. More like taunting them, really.
At least they were active. Satisfied the dogs were okay, he went back inside and was surprised to see Sam and Megan Lee sitting next to Deacon.
He hadn’t talked to Sam since that night with her grandmother other than a few texts where she said everything was “okay” and she was “busy.” He hadn’t wanted to pry, so he’d let things sit. He was glad to see her now. He took his seat at the bar, and Sam smiled.
“Deacon was just telling us about your day,” Sam said. “Engineer, huh?”
Reid grabbed his beer. “Yeah. And that’s about all I want to talk about relating to engineers.”
“Okay, then.”
She had a glass of wine in her hand, and it looked like she’d already downed half of it.
“Bad day yourself?” he asked.
She took in a deep breath, then let it out. “I’ve had better.”
“Which is why we’re here,” Megan said. “We’re drowning out the day with a cocktail.”
Deacon raised his bottle. “Same reason I dragged Reid in here. Nothing like a little alcohol to blow off a shitty day.”
“Or a supremely decadent cranberry muffin,” Megan added with a sly grin.
Sam nodded. “This is true. But your cranberry muffins just don’t go with wine.”
“Have you tried them with a glass of merlot?” Megan asked. “Because I have, and trust me, they’re a perfect complement to each other.”
“Maybe you should start offering wine as a menu item,” Reid said. “Wine and muffins.”
“I could probably bring in a lot more customers that way. I’m going to apply for that liquor license right away.”
“Woman.” Bash tapped his fingers on the bar, offering a mock glare at Megan. “I can’t compete with your baked goods, and I don’t need you putting me out of business.”
Megan laughed. “Fine. I’ll stick to coffee.”
“You do that.”
Chelsea, Bash’s girlfriend, showed up. “Hey, no one told me there was a party going on here tonight.”
“It was unplanned,” Sam said. “We just got here. How was your day?”
“Uneventful.” Chelsea slid her purse across the bar. She walked around behind it to give Bash a kiss, ordered a drink, then came back around.
“We should get a table,” Megan said. “Easier to talk that way.”
“Sounds good to me,” Sam said, then grabbed her purse and slid off the barstool.
They moved to one of the large, round tables near the bar. It wasn’t too crowded in there, so hopefully Bash would get a free minute and could sit with them if he had some time.
In the meantime, Reid really wanted some alone time with Sam, so he could ask about her grandmother. But not now in the middle of this group. He wasn’t sure who she’d talked to about Claire, and the last thing he wanted to do was bring it up in the middle of a group of people. He’d wait ’til later.
They ordered more drinks, grabbed a couple of bowls of pretzels, and talked about life and work.
“How’s the house-hunting going, Chelsea?” Sam asked.
“Naturally, Bash and I disagree on everything. So it’s going well.” She finished her statement with a teasing smile.
“So you haven’t found anything either of you like?”
Right at that moment, Bash came over and laid his hands on Chelsea’s shoulders. “She’s lying. We’ve narrowed it down to two houses we both like. It’s just a matter of deciding. I think they’ll both do fine. Chelsea’s the one who can’t make up her mind.”
Chelsea tilted her head back to stare up at Bash. “Oh, sure. Make me the bad guy.”
Bash leaned down and kissed her. “No, you’re the bad girl.”
A chorus of oohs followed their kiss.
“You two should get a room,” Deacon said. “Or at least a new house.”
Bash grinned and wandered off. “That’s one of our dilemmas,” Chelsea said. “Or, my dilemma, according to Bash. One of the houses is a charming older home near the high school. The other is a new build that’s farther on the outskirts of town.”
“What do you like—and dislike—about both of them?” Megan asked.
“The benefits of a brand-new house are obvious,” Chelsea said. “Everything is new, from the flooring to the appliances, and the square footage is outstanding. The closets are amazing, and you know I like my closet space. But it’s also pricier. And the yard is a bit small, which I don’t care for as much. I mean, we want a place we’re going to stay long-term, which means marriage and kids and maybe another dog, so I want a big yard.”
“Okay, and what about the other house?” Sam asked.
“It’s amazing. It has four bedrooms, and a huge living room that’s open to the kitchen and dining area. They’ve remodeled the entire house recently so everything has been painted, new floors have been laid down, and bathrooms have been redone, too. But it still has that touch of charm an older home represents. And it has a huge backyard.”
“Sounds like a winner,” Reid said. “So what’s the issue?”
Chelsea wrinkled her nose. “Tiny closets in every bedroom. You can renovate a lot and put in new floors and paint, but you can’t make a closet bigger.”
Reid leaned back in his chair. “I could.” He looked over at Deacon. “Deacon could as well. It’s all about changing your square footage. And if you ask me, it sounds like that’s the house you really want, Chelsea. You just need someone to tweak the design so you end up with more closet space. How does it work for you price-wise?”
“It’s well under our budget, so there’s room for more renovations if we wanted to go that route.”
Reid shrugged. “I’m not trying to get you to lean one way or the other, but if you want me to, I’d be happy to take a look at the place with you and Bash and see if there’s a way to work out the closet issue.”
“I’d go along, too,” Deacon said. “You know, just to make sure Reid’s pie-in-the-sky architectural ideas are really doable.”
Reid shot Deacon a glare. “Hey.”
Deacon laughed.
“I do have a contractor’s license in addition to being an architect, asshole.”
“Maybe,” Deacon said, grabbing a handful of pretzels. “But you’re not as good as I am.”
“Now I definitely want both of you to look at the house,” Chelsea said. “If you’re serious.”
“I wouldn’t have offered if I wasn’t serious,” Reid said. “We have the job during the day, but I could go by the house after work. And if Deacon wants to tag along and offer useless advice, I guess he can do that.”
Chelsea grinned. “Great. Tomorrow’s Bash’s day off. Would that work for you?”
Reid nodded. “Fine with me.”
“Me, too,” Deacon said.
Sam laughed. “I almost want to come along just to be a fly on the wall. Plus, I’d love to see the house.”
“I definitely want you to come,” Chelsea said. “I’d love your opinion, Sam. You, too, Megan.”
“I wish I could,” Megan said, “but I have a meeting with one of my suppliers tomorrow afternoon. But someone take pictures.”
They set a time to meet, and Chelsea gave them the address to the house.
Eventually Megan left, then Deacon took off as well. Chelsea moved up to the bar to sit by Bash, leaving Reid alone with Sam. He moved his seat to sit next to her.
“Hungry?” he asked.
“Starving, actually.”
“Then let’s ditch the alcohol and go grab something to eat. Oh, wait, I have Not My Dog with me.”
“That’s okay. We can go to my place. I need to check on Gram
my Claire anyway. And Not My Dog can hang out at my house.”
“You sure you don’t mind?”
“Not at all.”
“How about I pick up something for us to eat and meet you there? That’ll give you time to check on your grandma.”
She smiled at him. “That sounds really good. Thanks. I wasn’t really in the mood to cook.”
“I’ll be there in a little while.”
“I’ll leave the door unlocked in case I’m not back from Grammy Claire’s when you get there.”
“Okay.”
He went outside to grab Not My Dog, then said good-bye to Bash and Chelsea. He headed over to Bert’s diner and ordered a couple of fried chicken dinners, complete with Bert’s famous mashed potatoes and gravy, along with biscuits. While he waited, he chatted up a couple of Hope’s old-timers, who told him they were glad he was renovating the mercantile. He sat and listened to them tell stories of what the mercantile was like when they were younger, which made him happy he was doing this project.
When the waitress handed him his bag, he climbed into his truck, and Not My Dog sniffed at the food.
“Not a chance, bud,” he said. “This is people food.”
Not My Dog gave him a mournful look. Reid shook his head. “Does that work for you at the ranch?”
The dog cocked his head and gave him a look that said, You bet your ass, it does.
Not My Dog’s tongue hung out the side of his mouth.
“Surely Martha doesn’t fall for that. She’s way too smart for it. And I know Logan doesn’t. I think you’re lying to me.”
The dog gave him that weird smile. This time it said, Martha loves me. Even Logan is a sucker for this face.
“You do have a cute face. Don’t tell anyone I told you that.”
And once again, he was talking to the dog.
He put the truck in reverse and headed over to Sam’s house.
Chapter 17
AFTER MAKING SURE Grammy Claire had eaten and was settled in front of the TV for the evening, Sam dashed home to take a record-breaking fast shower. She didn’t know how long Reid would take to arrive, but she didn’t want to be naked when he got there.
Though maybe being naked when Reid arrived was exactly what she wanted to be.
Until her stomach growled—fiercely, in fact—reminding her she’d had such a busy day she hadn’t stopped to have lunch.
Okay, so dinner first.
She slid into a pair of yoga pants and a T-shirt and had her hair combed out just before the doorbell rang. She ran to answer it, then smiled at Reid.
“You’re my favorite person right now,” she said.
He held up the bag from Bert’s. “It’s because of the food, isn’t it?”
“Of course. What other reason could there be? Come on in.”
She closed the door behind him and the dog, then led him into the kitchen.
“Something smells great.” She got out plates and utensils.
“Chicken. I hope you like chicken.”
“Right now I’m so hungry I’d eat the bag. I forgot to eat lunch today. So yes, I love chicken.” While Reid unpacked the bag, she set the table. “What would you like to drink?”
“Whatever you’re fixing for yourself is fine.”
She made two glasses of iced tea and put a bowl of water on the floor for Not My Dog, who sauntered in and took several licks, then sat. She brought the glasses of iced tea over, then slid into her chair. She wanted to be polite and make small talk, but she was too hungry. It looked like Reid was, too, so they both dove into the food.
Once she’d had a few bites of chicken, along with the amazing mashed potatoes with gravy, she felt like she could manage conversation.
“This is so good.” Of course, it was about the food.
Reid looked up from his plate. “It is.”
Then she laughed. “I’m sorry. I was just so hungry and food was all I could think about.”
“I had a coffee and muffin from Megan’s bakery for a late breakfast, and then I was busy all day.”
“So no lunch for you, either, huh?”
“No.”
“Then let’s eat. We’ll talk later.”
They finished dinner, and when Sam laid her fork on her plate, she was well satisfied. “Thank you for dragging me out of the bar and bringing dinner over. Otherwise, not only would I have gotten drunk, I might have eaten all of Bash’s pretzels.”
Reid leaned back and laid his napkin on the table. “I might have liked to see you drunk. And I would have fought you for the pretzels.”
“You’d have lost. I mentioned I was hungry, right?”
“Yeah, but you’re slight. I could have taken you.”
She pushed back from the table and grabbed their plates. “You’d like to think so, but I’m vicious when I want food.”
He stood to help her. “I’ll keep that in mind in case the zombie apocalypse hits. I’ll want you on my team.”
She laughed as they stood side by side at the sink. “Right. You can shoot the zombies while I throw bouquets of flowers at them.”
“Come on. You at least have scissor skills. We can turn those into mad machete abilities.”
She paused, half turning to face him. “I think you have to get pretty close to them to whack them with a machete. I’d rather learn to use a gun. Preferably one of those long-range ones with a scope. That way I can stay far away.”
He shook his head. “Not gonna work. Zombies always sneak up on you. You have to learn hand-to-hand combat.”
She rolled her eyes, washed a dish, and slid it into the drying rack. “And you obviously play video games or watch those zombie shows on TV.”
“Exactly. I’m preparing myself to face the apocalypse. Plus, it’s a great way to wind down after a tense day at work.”
She turned off the faucet and dried her hands while Reid wiped off the table. “I think those types of games and shows would make me tense, not relax me.”
He tossed the paper towel in the trash. “Don’t knock it ’til you’ve tried it. The games are fun. Next time you’re at the ranch we’ll go head-to-head in the apocalypse. I’ll show you a few of my moves.”
She’d like to see a few of his moves, but not in a video game. “We’ll see.”
“Speaking of the ranch, Martha told me there’s a barbecue this weekend. You’re coming, aren’t you?”
“Of course.”
“Then we’ll play a game.”
“Sure. You can teach me how to kill zombies.”
He leaned against the counter and folded his arms across his chest. “I sense a lack of enthusiasm, Samantha.”
“Really. And I was trying so hard to mask it.” She gave him a teasing smile, then reached into the refrigerator and grabbed the iced tea to refill their glasses. She led him into the living room, where they both sat on the sofa. Not My Dog followed, turned around in a circle several times, then laid his head on his paws and went to sleep.
What a great dog.
Reid placed his glass on a coaster and turned to face her. “Now tell me what’s going on with your grandmother. Is she doing all right after her confusion the other night?”
“I took her to see the doctor. He ran some tests. He’s concerned and might want to send her to a neurologist for further workup.”
He reached over and grabbed her hand. “Which only made you more of a wreck than you were the other night.”
“It shows, huh?”
“A little. So what will you do if the neurological tests come up with something?”
She took in a deep breath and held it for a second or two before letting it out. “I don’t know. Honestly, I don’t even want to think about all this, even though I know I have to be the responsible adult and start planning ahead for my grandmother’s future—no matter what that entails.”
He brushed his hand over her hair. “Sometimes being the responsible adult sucks.”
“It can. But I’ll do what I need to do to make su
re Grammy Claire is safe. Which might mean I have to take her car keys away from her.”
“We had to do that with my granddad. He wasn’t happy. Losing independence is so hard on folks when they get older.”
She sighed—again. She’d been doing that a lot the past several days. “I don’t want to do it to her. She prides herself on being independent. She loves being able to pick up and go wherever she wants, whenever she wants to. It’ll kill her to lose that.”
Sam felt the burden like never before—not only the responsibility of caring for her grandmother but also the potential to hurt her, which she never in a million years wanted to do. But Grammy Claire’s safety was the most important thing, and she’d hurt her grandmother’s feelings before she would allow her to drive off somewhere and either get in an accident or get lost.
She fought back the tears that pricked her eyes. She didn’t want her grandmother to get sick. She refused to think about losing the last person who was family to her. She didn’t want to be alone.
Reid moved in closer and put his arm around her. “If it helps any, my granddad got used to the idea of not having a car. Then he started making all of us chauffeur him around. I wasn’t driving back then, but Logan loved it, because he got to drive all the time, and he’d just gotten his license.”
She sniffed back the tears that threatened to fall. Now wasn’t the time. Instead, she tilted her head back and smiled. “I’ll bet Logan enjoyed that. What teenager wouldn’t? Grammy Claire used to ask me to bring items to the flower shop for her after I got my license. I don’t think she really needed any of the items she asked me to get for her. It was just an excuse for me to practice driving. I was a little tentative behind the wheel.”
Reid smiled. “Whereas growing up on the ranch, we were driving the big trucks and tractors as soon as our legs were long enough that our feet could reach the pedals. As long as we were on ranch property, anyway. So driving was second nature to all of us.”
“That must have been fun.”
“It was. And, hey, if you do have to suspend your grandmother’s driving privileges, you can always bring her out to the ranch. We’ll put her behind the wheel of one of the trucks or tractors and she can drive anywhere she likes out there.”
