Total pages in book: 120
Estimated words: 112850 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 564(@200wpm)___ 451(@250wpm)___ 376(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 112850 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 564(@200wpm)___ 451(@250wpm)___ 376(@300wpm)
Mace nodded his acceptance of the price. Man, he was a tough nut to crack.
And that was the end of our moment. He left us without a backward glance, heading for the door.
No goodbye.
He didn’t ask me out either.
Nothing.
He’d be delivering the rockers this evening. Maybe I’d have control of myself by then.
“When we prepared your house for your arrival, I thought the rockers would look great on your wrap-around porch,” Lori said as I counted the bills in my hand. She turned the device toward me to see the total.
I controlled my reaction as I handed over all the cash I had, which barely covered the insane price. “Thanks for delivering them.”
“It’s no problem,” Lori said, pushing a button to let the receipt print. “We’ll see you this evening. It’s Mace’s night off. The chairs are heavy. He needs to lift them for me.”
“We’ll be there waitin’,” Wyatt chimed in, just when I’d forgotten he was even there.
I climbed inside the Jeep, knowing I had my work cut out for me. In a world that had consistently thrown me good fortune, how long had it been since I had to work for anyone’s attention?
That turned me on too.
First, I needed the guys to come for the week then get the hell out of here. Wyatt was drawing too much attention to me. I started the Jeep’s engine and began to pull away when Wyatt’s head popped forward between the seats.
“Dude, you gotta do better than that,” Wyatt said. “Where’s your game? You’re an actor. Act.”
On the turn, my gaze was drawn to Mace who stood in the doorway, one arm bent to rest against the frame.
A calmness descended over me again. Certainty replaced the unknown.
Getting to know him would be a great way to pass the summer months.
Yeah, I grinned and lifted a hand before driving away.
Chapter 4
Mace
I wasn’t sure what made the guy with the tight ass and great eyes different from the many men who came through the saloon doors every day. Most were more rugged and rough. Your typical manly men. The kinds of guys I was normally attracted to.
A lot of those men snuck out of the house, making excuses or straight out lying about where they were going to spend their time. Just being away from the nighttime duties of home life had a way of lightening up their mood, getting the mental break they needed.
Those same kinds of men, through the generations, were how the bar had stayed operational for all the years. But today there was something different in the air, an energy I didn’t understand. I felt unsettled, something I couldn’t shake. Something that stuck with me for the rest of the day and apparently into the late afternoon too.
“I’ll do it,” Manny, an older man and part-time help, said reaching for the industrial-size bucket and mop I was haphazardly swiping around the bar’s floor while lost in my thoughts. I should’ve stopped Manny from taking the mop, but I was so off my game that it was beginning to mess with my head.
“Thanks,” I murmured. “I filled the ice and stocked the bar. You should be set for tonight. We’re not expecting too many people here. I think everyone’s at home recoverin’ from the weekend.”
“Yeah, I know. You get one night off, so go home. I got it,” Manny said, doing a far better job mopping than I had. “Lori said you sold the last two chairs.” His scratchy voice came out a couple of decimals louder than necessary. Manny’s eyes lifted to mine, the mop never stopping the back and forth swish. “Better get busy makin’ more. They fly out of here.”
“I think I’m gonna take a break for a month or two,” I said, tucking my hands into my pockets. “I didn’t expect I’d get the boom in sales this weekend.”
“I told you that you needed to sell them for more than fifty dollars. Lori told me a customer bought those two for four hundred dollars. Wildflower would sure be proud of your donation,” Manny mumbled, his focus back on the floor. “You’re a good guy, Mace. You’re wastin’ your youth.” Words Manny had spoken often. “You need to rebuild your life, son. It’s been long enough.”
“I’m not ready,” I said quietly, a rare moment of honesty.
“Life happens. Sometimes it’s good, sometimes it’s bad, but you gotta keep goin’, lookin’ forward. Doesn’t mean you forget the past. You’ll take it with you for the rest of your life. You were such a dynamic kid. It’s hard to watch you stuck in second gear.”
Only in an attempt to be funny, absolutely not wanting to have this conversation again, I said, “You’re just wantin’ my job to get more hours.”
He chuckled, which was the response I had tried for and let that be enough, pivoting around, refusing to allow the past to take me low, like it always did. “If you need anything, call me.”