Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 119548 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 598(@200wpm)___ 478(@250wpm)___ 398(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 119548 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 598(@200wpm)___ 478(@250wpm)___ 398(@300wpm)
“He’s only three years younger than you,” Lucy said. “You know what a younger man equals?”
“Immaturity?”
“Stamina.”
Si looked at her. “This is my cue to do paperwork.”
“You mean slack off!” I called after him as I loaded the glasses in the washer beneath the bar. “Luce, you know how I feel about younger guys. I’m not interested.”
“You’re not interested in any guys,” she grumbled. “So, God only knows where Nana got the idea that you have a secret boyfriend.”
“Ha. Ha. I wonder.” I started the little glass washer and grabbed a wet cloth to wipe down the bar. “Why are you here? Shouldn’t you be resting in bed?”
“Mm, but Harvey is out with some guys from work, and I said I’d pick him up. Besides, I think the nausea has mostly passed now.” She leant to the side. “Are you all out of salt and vinegar crisps?”
“You’ve had two packets already. Are you craving them or something?”
“Yep. I almost cried when I went to the corner shop today and they had no Walkers.”
“I’m sure it was the end of the world.” I pulled the last packet of salt and vinegar crisps from the box and tossed it over to her. “Don’t tell Mum.”
“Please. She thinks I’m craving peaches. She keeps bringing punnets of them into the office. Linda’s started taking them home to bake with and bringing her spoils in the next day.” Lucy popped open the packet and shoved a big crisp in her mouth. “Mm. So good.”
“So weird.” I grabbed the spray and busied myself with wiping down the bar. I’d worked here since I was sixteen, but it never failed to amaze me just how quickly it could get so sticky.
The pub had been just on the right side of busy tonight, and I could tell that we were officially beginning to wind down for the night. July was always a weird month in Hartford Green. Many other places around us were just gearing up for a big influx of tourists, but that wasn’t the case for us on account of the fact there was simply nothing to do here compared to the larger towns and cities nearby.
Not to mention the Cotswolds were only half an hour or so away. Why would anyone come here when they could pop down the road and enjoy that little slice of heaven?
What we did get was a few waves of pensioners desperate to get a quick break in before the schools closed for summer and the kids ran wild. I liked kids, but I didn’t want to take my holiday when they were finally letting off steam, so I related greatly to the older generation who were seeking that escape.
That was what made Hartford Green the perfect hidden getaway. Si liked it because we got a nice, steady stream of new customers to bolster his bank account, and I liked it because the pub very rarely found itself bursting at the seams.
You could come in, have a pint, get a nice warm meal, and maybe enjoy a bit of live music on a Friday or Saturday night.
In other words, our little town was the perfect base for people looking for a quiet break without the hubbub of a big tourist trap.
I hoped it stayed that way.
It made my life much easier.
Danny approached the bar and leant forwards on it, fixing his dark gaze on me. “Hey there—”
“If you finish that, I’m going to throw you out by your ear and put your picture on the banned wall,” I said firmly, pointing to the corkboard with a picture of Si’s ex-wife, the mayor, and Mr. Harrison’s pet goat.
“Aw, you’re no fun.”
I tilted my head to the side and studied him.
“What? Are you finally falling for my charms?” He gave me a lopsided grin that would have made another girl’s heart flutter.
But not mine.
My heart was no butterfly.
I barely caught my sister’s snort at the other end of the bar. “No,” I said, tapping his arm so he’d lift his elbows off the bar for me to wipe it. “I was deciding whether I still want to serve you or not.”
“Don’t be a spoilsport.”
“Then don’t ever start singing that bloody song in front of me again.” I tossed the cloth under the bar. “Same again?”
“Please. You can use the same glasses.” He watched as I pulled them towards me and began pouring the first pint of Black Valor, the locally brewed draught beer he and his friend had been drinking all night. “When do you finish?”
“Same time I always do,” I said, finishing the first pint. “I’m here until closing.”
“You must be tired.”
Yep.
I was tired of this.
“Not really. I’m used to it.” I stepped back to see the head on the second pint, then finished up and set the glass in front of him. “Six-ninety, please.”