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“I can’t believe she didn’t mention him. Or that you sat next to the guy on the plane.”
I took another swig of beer. Not my first one but still so fucking good after almost a year.
We were both empty. “Did you eat yet?” Lucas asked.
“No,” I said.
“Come on. Let’s grab something.”
The last thing I wanted to do was go out. I hadn’t been to a bar in nearly a year and had been looking forward to doing that with Zoe. Having a drink with her. Going out to dinner with her. So many things we’d talked about, and here she was only a few blocks from me.
“What if Zoe heads out?”
“She won’t. Charlee’s over there. Probably Natalie, too, by now. Maybe even Mazzie and half the town. I’ll text Charlee, though, and have her give me a heads-up just in case.”
We headed downstairs to his tattoo parlor, which was fucking amazing, and out onto Main Street. “Not a bad little town,” I said as we passed some of the businesses either Lucas or Zoe had told me about. We walked into KC’s Taphouse and sat at the bar.
Immediately, a man greeted us.
“KC?” I asked Lucas.
“Sort of. Owen, I’d like you to meet my friend Nate.”
“Your partner-in-the-army Nate?”
He was a burly, down-home kind of guy. Flannel shirt. Welcoming smile.
“That’s the one.”
Owen reached his hand across the bar. “Great to meet you. Thanks for your service.” He held up a hand. “Before you say, ‘Just doing my job,’ I want to thank you anyway.”
I smiled, liking this guy already. “I guess Lucas and I are similar in some ways.”
“Eh, you’re way nicer than him, I can tell already. This guy came in here looking like he wanted to murder somebody.”
Lucas laughed. “Just one person.”
I had a feeling I knew who that one person was. Lucas was rough around the edges sometimes, but he was generally well-liked and vice versa.
“I talked to Charlee for the first time after I came back to town in this bar,” Lucas explained. Owen began to pour a beer. “Make that two.”
“I don’t know if I’d use the word ‘talk.’ Growled at her, maybe,” Owen said as he slid two beers across the bar.
I took out a credit card to open a tab, but Owen pushed it away. “On the house.”
“Thanks,” I said.
“Actually. . .” Lucas watched Owen pour a third beer. “Owen encouraged me to apologize to her. He overheard our first conversation. Apparently thought I was a little rough with her.”
“A little rough. You were a mean bastard,” Owen said, lifting his glass. Apparently, the beer was for him. “Welcome back,” he said.
We toasted. “Still is a mean bastard,” I said, grateful the conversation had taken my mind off Zoe for a few minutes at least.
“I’ll let you guys catch up,” Owen said, moving away to another customer.
“Nice guy.”
“He is. Owen and his family own half the town. You’d never know it, though. Really down-to-earth.”
