Unforgettable (Cloverleigh Farms #5)(20)

I burst out laughing. “They must have been totally shocked. You’ll probably see them out there again tomorrow, hoping you come back.”

He chuckled. “Probably. They reminded me of Sadie when she was little.”

I shook my head. “Hard to believe she’s getting married in two days, isn’t it?”

“Yes. I still can’t wrap my head around it. Married.” He looked like he’d just sucked a really sour lemon.

“Is it just Sadie and Josh’s wedding you’re having a hard time with?” I asked, amused. “Or is it marriage in general you dislike?”

“Marriage in general. But hey, if Josh wants to put up with Sadie bossing him around the rest of his life, he can go right ahead.”

I laughed and gave him a gentle nudge in the stomach, which was rock hard. “Oh, come on. They’re in love. Don’t you have any sense of romance?”

“I have a sense of reality. There is no way I could live with another person day and night forever. She would drive me insane, and I would return the favor.”

I was about to argue in favor of true love when we were interrupted by the bartender, an old-timer named Toby.

“Hey, April. What can I get for you guys?” He leaned on the bar in front of us with both hands and smiled.

“Hi, Toby. I’d like you to meet my old friend Tyler Shaw.”

Toby’s grin widened as he shook Tyler’s hand. “I wondered if that was you. ‘The Rifle,’ right? Damn, you could throw a fastball.” He whistled through his teeth. “Had to be, what, like ninety-seven miles per hour?”

“Something like that,” Tyler said. “Nice to meet you.”

“And that curveball. What a weapon that was. Nobody knew what to do with it.” Toby shook his head. “Shame what happened to your arm. You ever figure out what it was?”

Tyler stiffened. “Uh, no.”

“I was watching that World Series game. It was the damndest thing. I kept thinking to myself, ‘I know how good he is. Why can’t he just relax and throw the ball?’”

Next to me, so close I could sense it, tension continued to fill Tyler’s long, muscular frame. His jaw was clenched tight.

“Hey, Toby, can we get a couple glasses of Brown Eyed Girl bourbon on the rocks?” I asked, instinctively placing a hand on Tyler’s lower back.

“Sure thing, April.” He smiled at Tyler. “Nice meeting you, man. Hey, keep throwing. Maybe it’ll come back someday.”

Tyler swallowed and nodded curtly.

Once Toby’s back was turned, I looked up at Tyler. Rubbed his back a little. “Sorry about that.”

“Not your fault.”

“But I could tell it made you uncomfortable. I shouldn’t have introduced you.”

He shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. I’m used to it.”

Taking my hand off him, I decided to change the subject. “So you’re still living in San Diego, huh? You like it out there?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you live on the beach?”

“Not far. I also have a cabin in the San Bernardino Mountains on Lake Arrowhead. I spend a lot of time there.”

“I bet it’s beautiful. Do you . . . do you live alone?”

He nodded. “I like living alone. It suits me.”

“Why?”

“My sister says it’s because I’m a grumpy old man.” A hint of a crooked grin appeared. “I say I just like solitude.”

“What do you like about it?”

“Everything. I like silence in the morning and the couch to myself at night. I don’t like sharing covers or the Netflix remote. I also drink from the carton and leave the cap off the toothpaste.”

I wrinkled my nose. “That last one’s a deal breaker. We can definitely never be roommates.”

He laughed. “What about you? Do you live nearby?”

“Not too far. I have a condo in Traverse City. And I live alone too, although I’m not sure it suits me.”

“What makes you—”

But before he could finish the question, Toby showed up with our drinks and assured us they were on him. “I was thinking. Acupuncture.” He pointed a thick finger at Tyler. “That’s what you should try. Acupuncture. My sister’s anxiety was so bad, she couldn’t even leave the house. Tried acupuncture—worked like a charm.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” said Tyler, taking a quick sip of his bourbon.

“Thanks for the drinks, Toby,” I said, picking up my glass and rising to my feet. Then I put a hand on Tyler’s chest—also rock hard—and said, “Hey, let’s move into the dining room. I bet it’s less crowded in there.”

Tyler tossed some cash on the bar as a tip. “Good idea.”

We walked over to the hostess stand with our drinks. “Hey, Makenna.” I smiled at the college student who’d recently been hired on for the busy season. “Any chance we could snag that corner booth in the back?”

“Sure thing, April.”

“Great,” I said, relieved we’d be able to talk with a little more privacy. The dining room at the inn, with its low ceilings, dark wood paneling, and plush booths, was cozy and intimate. And best of all, there would be no prying bartender trying to serve cocktails with a side of advice.