Page 72 of Whiskey Neat

Indy nods. “Yeah.”

“Wouldn’t it be nice though to find that one person who just clicks?” Lowen muses, gazing down at his salad. “I don’t believe it’s real, but I really want someone to prove me wrong. Even if it’s not my love.”

I shift my gaze to Indy to find him already looking at me. I can’t read the expression on his face, but it makes me want to crawl into his lap.

“Maybe…” I stop myself, unsure of where I was going.

“Maybe what?” Indy says.

I shrug. “Maybe someone will prove Lowen wrong someday soon.”

“Yeah. Maybe.”

TWENTY-THREE

SALEM

The following week, I walk into the bar to find Lowen carrying a box with a bag over his shoulder, so I hurry to help.

“What’s going on?”

“Oh, you’re here early. Wonderful. It’s time to set up the offices, and I figured that would give you something to work on until our supplies are delivered next week.”

“Great. I was feeling a little useless yesterday.”

“You’re never useless, boo.”

We enter the main office and set the stuff down on the desk. In the past week, the crew has completely drywalled and painted, laid new wood floors over the tacky linoleum that was there, and installed proper lighting. So far only a row of filing cabinets have been delivered, but Lowen ordered a custom desk that has space for each of the guys. The other office space will be used as an inventory room since we moved that out of the old kitchen.

“I made a list of files I think we need and how I’d like it organized,” Lowen says. “I bought all the supplies to get started. If you’re good with working on that today, I can get back to the house and supervise the reno over there. Oakley apparently has several questions for me.”

Lowen is in full designer mode, scrolling his to-do list on his phone. I admire him for a moment. He’s dressed in all white, a brave choice at a construction site, and his blond hair is styled to perfection. His lips are shiny with gloss, and his blue eyes pop from the smoky liner and mascara gracing his eyelids. He’s the prettiest man I’ve ever met other than myself.

He flits around the room, explaining the layout of the desk to me so that I know, and then moves to the boxes he bought full of folders and a label machine.

“Got it, Low. I’m on it.”

He smiles, tilting his head. “You look happy. Things still going well with Indy?”

“I’m sure you already know the answer to that.”

He laughs softly. “Perhaps.”

I lean on the old desk. “I’m having a good time.”

Lowen nods, his smile softening. “So is Indy.”

“I sense that you want to say something but you’re holding back.”

“Me? No. I’m just pleased that you’re both enjoying yourselves. It’s been a month already, right?”

“I think so, yeah.”

“A month…” He chuckles. “That might be a record for Indy in recent years.”

“Oh come on. You’re teasing.”

Lowen shakes his head. “Nope. I’ve only known of one guy that lasted three months, but that was because it was long distance, so Indy only saw him once a month.”

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