Make Me Stay

by Jaci Burton

  "Here's hoping it's nothing too serious. She was just confused. Older folks get confused sometimes."

  She knew Megan was trying to be positive and pump her up, but they both knew there was something wrong. Something serious.

  "She's the only family I have left."

  "Not true. You have me."

  Tears pricked her eyes and she squeezed Megan's hand. "Thanks. And thank you for always being here to listen."

  Megan smiled at her. "Always. And if you need any help with Grammy Claire, you let me know."

  "Thank you. Now, anything going on with you and the hot body guy?"

  Megan frowned, then her eyes widened. "Oh, Brady Conners?"

  "Yes. You two looked fantastic together at Des's party."

  "He is a hottie. And super nice. But very quiet. He took me home and walked me to my door, told me he had a very nice time, and waited for me to let myself in. I invited him in for coffee and he politely declined. He didn't even try to kiss me. Not once. Dammit."

  "Oh, that's too bad. He doesn't have a girlfriend, does he?"

  "I would think if he had a girlfriend he would have brought her to the dinner instead of me."

  "That's true."

  "I think he's still troubled over what happened with his brother."

  Sam sighed. "I'm sorry about that."

  "Me, too. I think I'll bake him some muffins and bring those to him. That man needs to smile more. He has a gorgeous smile."

  If anyone could make someone smile, it was Megan. And her baking. "Good idea."

  "In the meantime, how about we ditch these coffees and go get something a little more . . . substantial?"

  "Now you're talking."

  "I need to finish cleaning up here. Meet you at Bash's bar in an hour?"

  Sam nodded. "It's a date."

  It would give her just enough time to dash home, check on Grammy Claire, then get ready.

  For the past few days she'd been overwhelmed with thoughts of her grandmother. A night out was just what she needed right now.

  Chapter 16

  IT HAD BEEN a grueling day. Reid had butted heads with the engineer, disagreeing over structural walls, even though he'd already had his design approved once.

  But no. Just like in most of the projects he worked on, it was a constant argument about design versus engineering. And a giant pain in his ass. He and Deacon had met with the engineer and discussed a twelve-foot beam that needed to be replaced on the main floor before they could remove any more walls.

  It was already in the plan, he'd gone over it with the original engineer, and he knew every load-bearing wall in the building. But this engineer was being tough on them and wouldn't approve the next stage until they replaced that beam. So despite a header not being in the plan, he was going to have to go back to the drawing board and come up with a revised drawing for the main floor--one that would have to include either posts or a header. Which meant delays he didn't have time for.

  He was so irritated by the end of their afternoon meeting that Deacon had insisted they stop at a bar so Reid could unwind.

  What he really needed to do was spend the evening reworking his drawings, so those could be approved.

  "You can take an hour for a few beers. Then you can go home and work," Deacon said.

  Reid finally relented, and he followed Deacon to the No Hope at All bar. Deacon parked next to him, and they both got out of their trucks.

  "You know Bash lets his dog have the run of the bar. I don't think it'll be a problem for you to bring Not My Dog inside, especially considering how well-behaved he is."

  With a shrug, Reid hooked the leash to Not My Dog's collar and led him through the doors. He was immediately greeted by Bash's dog, Lou, a tiny-sized terror of a Chihuahua, who dashed up to them and started sizing up Not My Dog, who wagged his tail and sniffed the little dog.

  "Hey, you two," Bash said, coming around the bar to shake their hands. "Glad to see you back here, Reid."

  "Thanks."

  "I fenced an area out back for Lou to run around in if you want to let your dog roam out there with her. There's water and plenty of chew toys, plus they can bark at traffic."

  "Sounds good." He followed Bash out the back door to a fenced-in yard area. He let Not My Dog off the leash, then gave him a stern look. "Behave yourself."

  The dog didn't even look back at him as he ran off to play with Lou.

  "Heard you got yourself a dog," Bash said as they came back inside.

  "The dog kind of claimed me. I didn't have much of a choice."

  Bash laughed. "Yeah, I know how that is. What are you going to do with him when you head back to Boston?"

  Reid shrugged. "No idea. I guess I'll worry about that when it's time for me to leave." Reid looked around at the construction area tented off from the main building. "How's it going?"

  Bash crossed his arms. "Right now it's messy. And noisy. Fortunately, the bar is loud at night, and by the time the place really gets going they're done for the day, and they don't work weekends, so there's been no complaints."

  "Great. Can I take a look?"

  "Not much to see yet, but the foundation is poured and they have framing up, so sure."

  They stepped through the white tarp. Bash was right in that there wasn't much to see from his standpoint, but from an architect's viewpoint, Reid could see the vision that he and Bash had talked through several months ago. The foundation was down, and it would offer space for the kitchen and the outdoor eating area off the side of the bar. Walls would separate the bar from the kitchen, and there'd be a doorway leading outside, perfect to enjoy outdoor eating in the summer. Plus Bash had an eating space carved out separate from the bar, a spot that would be less noisy.

  "It's looking good so far," Reid said as they wandered around.

  Bash nodded. "It's still pretty bare-bones, but now that the framing is up, at least I have a vision where everything's going to be."

  Reid smiled. "Excited?"

  "I'll be excited when it's all done. My chef is breathing down my neck to get started. He's already pushing for the new restaurant and he hasn't even started here yet."

  Reid patted him on the back. "Progress is always a good thing."

  "Speaking of the restaurant, I might want to . . . accelerate things on that end. Since you're here, and I hate to ask . . ."

  Reid had actually hoped he would. "I'd love to sit down with you and sketch out your restaurant plans."

  Bash looked relieved. "You would? That'd be great. I know you're busy as hell with the mercantile, so I didn't want to presume."

  "I don't know how official we can make it, and we had only spoken in general terms when I was here last time, but if you've got a vision, then yeah, let's talk."

  "Thanks, man. You did such a fantastic job helping me refine the drawings for this expansion. I know you'll be able to help me figure out what I want for the restaurant."

  "I'm happy to help. Why don't you text me what you've got in mind in terms of time for next week? We'll schedule something at the bar and you can give me free beers while we talk."

  Bash laughed. "You're on."

  They headed inside. Bash went back behind the bar, and Reid took a seat at the bar next to Deacon.

  "I stopped in and looked at the expansion the other day when I was in here," Deacon said. "Bash is pretty stoked about it."

  "He should be. It'll be good for business."

  "Beers?" Bash asked as he came back to where they were sitting.

  "Two," Deacon said.

  "Okay, and what is Reid having?"

  "Funny," Deacon said. "Though considering the day we had, maybe four beers is about right."

  Bash pulled two beers, popped the tops off and handed the bottles across the bar to them. "One of those kind of days, huh?"

  "Yeah." Reid took two very deep swallows of beer, then, as the cold brew sailed its way down, realized Deacon was right. This was just what he needed. He was already relaxing.

  Bash l
aid his palms on the bar. "So which one of you is going to tell me about your shit day?"

  Deacon grabbed his bottle of beer. "I'll let Reid tell you."

  Reid explained to Bash about the meeting with the engineer.

  "It never goes smoothly, does it?"

  "No, but I was hoping we had everything on this building lined out in advance. I guess I was wrong."

  "Hopefully this will be the last of it," Deacon said.

  "I'll drink to that." Reid raised his bottle and tipped it in Deacon's direction. "We can't afford any more delays, or bullshit additional costs. The way I drew it up the first time was suitable. It's just this engineer's idea to cost us more money and time so he can justify his damn job."

  "Well, God forbid he say we did it right the first time," Deacon said, signaling to Bash for two more beers.

  Reid's lips curved. "Yeah, the world might come to an end if an engineer agrees with the architect or the contractor."

  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 Grammy 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.