His jaw clenched. “Seems like you have it all planned out.”
“No, not yet, but it will be. And, hopefully, with your help since we’ll be neighbors.” Damn Barb and Bob for putting her in this position, but like she’d said, they had their reasons and intentions.
“I don’t live here, Red. I do everything but sleep here it seems most days, but we won’t be neighbors. And you’re not my innkeeper, you work for my parents.”
Red? Her hair was not red, more of a caramel strawberry or something, yet that’s the only nickname he could give her? It was marginally better than lady, but still. She ignored the rest of his statement since they were only going in circles, and she wasn’t in the mood to deal with whatever drama he had going on right then. She had enough of that in her life, thank you.
“Whatever you tell yourself, barkeep. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have work to do, and I’m pretty sure you just told your family you have the same thing.”
She turned and made it halfway up the stairs before he called out, “Why didn’t you mention who you were last night?”
She froze. Ah, he recognized her. She’d been exhausted from the drive and hadn’t even unpacked yet. Fox had served her but hadn’t seemed to recall her. Dare, however, had seen her and dismissed her the night before yet, apparently, remembered her even in different clothes and a more professional hairstyle. Maybe he was just good at that since it was his job and not Fox’s. Or maybe she was thinking too hard about things that truly didn’t matter.
“Red?”
“Don’t call me Red,” she bit out. “I have a name. Use it.”
“I will.” Eventually or maybe was left unsaid. “You going to answer my question?”
“I knew your parents hadn’t told you about the changes yet, and introductions would have only added more questions that weren’t my place to answer. Now, if you’ll excuse me.” She turned away from him again, and this time didn’t look back when he made a sound. She wasn’t sure what he meant by it, and she didn’t have time to care. She had lists of lists to work on, and Dare Collins wasn’t on any of them.
And he never would be.
By the time lunch rolled around, she was starving and in need of food. While she could have walked down the main street of Whiskey and tried out any of the numerous restaurants and cafes dotting the small town, she wanted to get a sense of Old Whiskey Inn and what it had to offer. This would be her new home, after all, and she wanted to feel like she was part of it.
She’d never truly integrated into the big cities she’d lived in for so long. Yes, she’d liked her apartments and made a few fragile friendships along the way. But those were broken quickly once she was pulled away in a new direction and forced to cut ties with anyone who might have mattered. She’d walked in a fog of loneliness without ever truly understanding how and when it had happened.
But that was over. She would make a new life here in Whiskey. Somehow, she’d remember how to make friends and do her best to make Old Whiskey Inn a profitable and desirable business, and she’d assimilate herself into the town.
Somehow.
The restaurant downstairs wasn’t open for lunch on weekdays, but the bar was open every day for lunch and dinner. She’d try out the other businesses soon, as well as the restaurant itself since she planned to make it a large part of the packages the inn offered. For now, however, she’d see how lunch did at Dare’s bar.
Dare.
Well, hell, that didn’t take long for him to enter her thoughts, did it?
She pushed him firmly from her mind and made her way into the bar area of the building. She’d seen it in full swing the night before and had been pleasantly surprised by not only the food but also the atmosphere. Dare and his family had put a lot of love and hard work into the place, and it showed from every angle.
The bar itself was a thick wood that looked as though it had weathered years of use but still shined almost like new. There were thickly cushioned stools surrounding it, and even little hooks screwed into the wood for women to hang their purses on. She hated when she had to hang her bag on her knee since she didn’t want to hang it on the back of her chair or set it on the floor where it could get stolen or dirty easily. Booths lined the walls in rectangles and some half circles for the corners. The chairs and cushions were leather and well maintained and seemed to be of decent quality. This might be a bar, but it was a high-end one with no tears or stray fibers to be seen.
And since it was lunchtime, the blinds were open, letting the bright, mid-afternoon sun in, making the place look different than it had the night before. While the restaurant had white linen tablecloths and waitstaff with long aprons and collared shirts, the bar area went with bare, wooden tables that gave it a slightly less upscale look. All in all, the place worked. People who didn’t want to sit down for a five-star meal or didn’t want to make a reservation could walk in and have fantastic bar food and tapas. Not a bad deal all the way around. And if she had any say in it, the inn would use both establishments as touchstones—more than they already did. She had plans, she told herself, she just had to make sure the Collins family liked them.
Pulling herself out of work mode, she smiled at the pretty blonde at the hostess stand. She wore a black blouse and skirt and fit in with both the bar and restaurant. Kenzie knew hostesses worked both places but mostly in the restaurant areas since the bar tended to be first come, first served. However, the woman must have gotten the memo about the new tenant because she moved to seat her right away.
Interesting.
The hostess sat her at one of the tables since she’d already eaten at the bar itself, and she smiled at the younger woman. The girl looked barely old enough to work at a bar in the middle of a weekday, but what did Kenzie know about age anymore. She felt far older than her twenty-eight years, that was for sure.
She let out a breath and was looking over the menu trying to decide what she wanted to eat when her phone buzzed. Stiffly, she forced herself to check the readout, swallowing the bile that crept up her throat once she read the words.
Not today, Satan.
Only that mantra didn’t make her feel better like it should have. Instead, she barely held back the shaking in her hands. She could do this, she reminded herself. She was strong, damn it. Things were different now.
They had to be.
“Kenzie? What’s wrong? You went pale.”
She looked up at Dare when she heard the worry in his words and forced a smile on her face, though she knew it was only an imitation of one.
“What? Oh, nothing’s wrong. I’m just hungry I guess.”
He looked like he didn’t believe her, and frankly, she didn’t believe herself. But there was no way she was going to tell him why she wanted to simultaneously hide under the table and run from the building at the same time. She’d never tell him, she’d never tell anyone.
No one could know.
That was her past, and no matter how hard she hid from it, she knew it would always be there. Waiting.
But no one could know.
No one.
Chapter 3
Dare watched Kenzie fight with something within herself but knew there was nothing he could do if she weren’t willing to share. The odd thing was, he wasn’t sure why he cared at all. She’d said she was fine, and he should just take that at face value. It wasn’t like he knew her. They weren’t friends. There was no reason he should know she was lying to his face other than the fact that he was a former cop, and now a bartender.
But he knew she wasn’t okay and was trying to hide it. And while a small part of him might want to find out why, he pushed that to the side. He shouldn’t care. He didn’t. And that was how it had to be.
“You decide on what you want to drink?” He knew he sounded gruff but hell if he could help it.
“Do you normally take everyone’s orders even before the waitress can bring me my water?”
She sounded so damn snippy, yet part of him liked it. He wasn’t going to
comment on which part.
“No, but I figured since you already said you wanted to start off on the right foot, I’d come over and ask.” He hadn’t meant to come over at all, honestly. He’d figured Kayla could handle the table, but when he’d seen Kenzie react like she had to whatever she’d seen on her phone, he’d come right over. He hadn’t liked the look on her face but knew it wasn’t his place to push any more than he already had.
“Oh,” she said after a moment and seemed to gather herself. “Well, can I just have some water and an iced tea? No lemon please.” She looked down at the menu and nodded. “It’s the same menu from dinner last night?”
Dare shook his head. “No, it’s slightly different, fewer offerings and more geared toward bar food than the tapas we sell in the evenings. The weekend lunch menu is just like the night menu though since tourists are in more.”
Kenzie nodded, her face set in concentration. “You sound like you know what you’re doing.”
Dare just stared at her when she looked up and winced. “Family’s been at it for a while now, pretty sure we can handle the menu of our bar. I’ll get Kayla over here to help you with your order.”
“Sorry,” she said quickly. “I didn’t mean to sound like such a witch just then.” She let out a breath, and Dare folded his arms over his chest. Kenzie rubbed him the wrong way, and he didn’t know if it was because of her iciness or the fact that his parents had hired her without talking to the family first. Probably the latter if he were honest with himself, and that just annoyed him more.
“I’ll send Kayla over.” He started to turn, and Kenzie reached out and gripped his arm. He hadn’t realized he’d been standing so close. He didn’t pull away from her touch, but he wanted to. He hadn’t been expecting the burn from a woman who’d basically just called herself ice.
“I’m sorry,” she repeated, meeting his gaze. “I had a phone call earlier that rattled me, but that’s no excuse. I told you before that I wanted to get off on the right foot and I can’t seem to find that with you.”
Dare nodded. “Understood. Nevertheless, I’ll send Kayla over so you can settle yourself or whatever you need since I seem to rattle you just as much as that phone call did.” Since she unsettled him just as much, he figured he needed the space, too.
“Never as much as the phone call,” she murmured before leaning back and dropping her hand from his arm. He didn’t know what she meant by her words but, once again, he didn’t question her. He didn’t know her, and frankly, was still a little pissed off about her role in his building.
Without another word, he headed over to the bar and went back to work. They didn’t serve as much liquor, wine, or beer during the day—especially on weekdays—but some liked a little liquid inspiration with their work lunch. But even if the bar didn’t sell that much, they still sold enough food to justify being open the additional hours. If tourists heard about the place in some magazine, they loved that they could come in and eat without a reservation. Lunchtime worked just fine for them, that way, they could find other places to eat at night that had walk-ins.
He had no idea how he’d ended up in this business based on what he’d done before as an occupation, yet being the boss seemed to fit him. He’d been a patrol cop for only a few years and had a damn good partner while they patrolled the streets. Now, Jason was gone, and Dare had the pain in his shoulder to remind him of that loss every damn day.
Dare let out a breath and gripped the edge of the bar, willing those thoughts and memories from his mind. He’d been thinking about Jason far too often lately, and he knew it was because they were nearing the anniversary of Dare leaving the force after everything had changed. He’d come home from the hospital with a hole in his shoulder, and a metaphorical one in his heart, only to have his ex leave him soon after—still pregnant with Nathan.
Hell, it was no wonder he worked at a bar that served damn fine whiskey—including the same label they’d had back in the day. If he didn’t fall into the bottle, he might as well sell the damn stuff.
With a sigh, he pushed through whatever funk was pissing him off that afternoon and went to do inventory. They weren’t that busy yet, and he figured Kayla could handle things for a while since Rick had shown up for his shift. Both were a little pale, and he figured they’d truly had a twenty-four-hour bug instead of going off on a bender the night before, and he was grateful for that.
His phone buzzed, and he looked at the readout, seeing Jesse’s name. He stiffened before hitting ignore. She’d leave another message, and one day, he’d get up the courage to see what his former partner’s widow needed from him.
For now, he didn’t have the strength to listen to the grief in her voice. That made him a coward, but Dare had never said he was anything else.
Fox showed up not too long after Dare had settled behind the bar and growled something under his breath. His younger brother was about as tall as Dare but was more slender. While Dare had muscle from trying to stay in shape, Fox had always been leaner, while Loch was a bit more on the bulkier side from pure muscle. Fox’s hair was a bit shaggier than his brothers’, too, his eyes a bit lighter.
According to his parents, Tabby was the sweet one, Fox the funny one, Dare the intense one, and Loch the quiet and brooding one. And if that didn’t actually describe them perfectly most days, he didn’t know what did.
“What was that?” Dare asked as he set coffee and water down near Fox’s elbow on the bar. Fox lived and breathed coffee—even far into the night—so Dare didn’t have to ask what his brother wanted.
“The office is giving me a headache, so I’m taking my working lunch here.” Fox pinched the bridge of his nose before setting up his computer. “Why did I decide to own a newspaper again?”
Dare snorted. “Because you like being in everyone’s business. You’re good at it.”
Fox flipped him off while looking at his screen. “I tell the people what they need to know.”
“Whatever you need to tell yourself at night.” Dare wasn’t a fan of reporters, hadn’t been when he was a cop, and it had flowed into his present, but Fox was one of the good ones. There had been an issue with the previous mayor, and Fox had been the one to uncover the story when the local police force couldn’t do the job. Dare had been in Philly at the time working as a cop, but he’d heard all about it. Fox had gotten major flack from it, but in the end, the truth had won out.
“I tell myself lots of things,” Fox murmured, and Dare frowned, not sure what his brother meant by that. “Can I have a cheeseburger? No veggies or anything that could be considered healthy.”
Dare snorted. “That I can do for you. Fries?”
“With a side of ranch like usual.”
Dare barely held back a shudder. How Fox could dip his fries into ranch, he didn’t know, but at least he didn’t have to eat it. Dare went over to the computer to put in Fox’s order and glanced over at Kenzie’s table. Wrong move, he thought as he met her gaze.
Wrong damn move.
She tilted her head and studied him before going back to her salad. He scowled and rang up Fox’s order.
“Have the hots for the new innkeeper, do you?” Fox winked, leaning back on his stool. “I remember her from last night, you know. Nice tipper. Great smile.”
Dare narrowed his eyes. “First, I don’t have the hots for her. Secondly, keep your voice down. She’s right behind you, dumbass.”
Fox shrugged. “You sound a bit defensive. Want to talk about that?”
“Don’t go all reporter on me. Drink your damn coffee and get to work before one of your reporters shows up and annoys you here instead of at the paper.” And with that, Dare went back to his office and let Rick handle the rest of the lunch crowd. He had a mountain of paperwork to deal with, and he had a feeling it was only going to get harder once construction on the inn started and Kenzie and his parents got into the first phase of their plans.
Dare sank into his chair and rolled his shoulder, wincing as it ached. He’d have to
be careful when he went to Loch’s later that night for his workout. He’d slept on it wrong, and it hurt like hell. It didn’t help that the scar tissue from years ago seemed to flare up with any kind of weather that wasn’t a balmy seventy degrees. Considering that he lived in Pennsylvania and not Florida, it meant it always ached.
He was about twenty minutes into his work when Fox walked into the office with his phone to his ear.
“Yeah, Tabby, I’m with him now. I’ll put you on speaker.”
Dare sat up, worried. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong, big brother,” Tabby said with a sigh. “One day, I’ll call, and you’ll all assume it’s because I want to annoy you with my day and not because something horrible happened.”
Dare met Fox’s gaze and knew the other man was thinking the same thing as he was. Tabby had been through hell before thanks to a man who hadn’t understood that he couldn’t use his fists and intimidation to get what he wanted. Her fiancé, Alex, had saved her and then helped her learn to defend herself—something Dare and his brothers should have done, damn it.
“And now you and Fox are probably looking at each other and brooding,” Tabby said over the phone, pulling Dare out of his thoughts. “Now, stop it, because I have happy news and good things to talk about, and I’d like to stay in this cheery mood, thank you.”
“Sorry,” the two men mumbled together, and Tabby snorted.
“Love you guys. Okay, so I called because I wanted to talk about the wedding. It’s wedding central down here with three back-to-back weddings going on with the Montgomerys, but Alexander and I really hope you can make it down before the ceremony itself so we can all spend some time together. I know it’s not going to be easy, and I truly appreciate that you’re coming to Denver at all, but I’d love to spend time with my big brothers and their children. If possible.”
Whiskey Secrets Page 3
