Page 3 of Trouble

“Good.” I glance around the bar, taking in the crowd. The place is filling up quickly. This is my favorite hangout, but only after the summer rush. I can’t stand crowds, and not many people other than the locals are interested in sitting around a small-town bar on the water in the middle of winter.

Clearly, I underestimated how many people the event today would bring into our town.

Stupid mistake.

“You have enough staff working to handle the crowd? Fire code?—”

Cade places his hand on my arm, the contact stealing the words from my mouth. “What he means is that we’re here if you need help. Not that he’ll shut you down if you’re unprepared.”

I pull away, ignoring the niggle of guilt that hits me when he grimaces. “I was getting to that. Do you want me to call Shawn?”

Shawn works for me at the station, and he’s engaged to Hailey’s twin sister. A twin she didn’t know existed until not too long ago. But that’s a story for a different day.

Hailey’s responding smile is bright. She likes the crowd just as much as I hate it. I suppose that makes sense. Where I see bar fights, people being trampled, and fire hazards, she sees dollar signs.

“We’re all set. Amelia is working tonight, and Nate and Jack will be here to help after the festivities.” She turns her warm gaze on Cade, her voice going sugary sweet. “We really appreciate the Bolts doing this. It’s going to help the town out more than you know.”

Cade leans his forearms on the bar and slides his barstool in closer. The wood dragging against the floor is almost as grating as his shameless flirting. With a bat of his eyes, he smiles, allowing the dimple on his left cheek to pop. The one on his right cheek only appears when he’s laughing. When he’s truly happy. It’s never aimed in my direction, because I don’t make people laugh.

“The guys are happy to do it.” He winks. “Got them out of practice this weekend.” Cade is the goalie coach for the Boston Bolts hockey team. The hockey team that is, unfortunately, owned by my pain-in-the-ass brother-in-law’s family. I honestly can’t get away from the man. Beckett seems to be everywhere I turn.

Scowling, I nudge him with my elbow. “Can we order? I need to get downtown shortly.”

Hailey straightens. “Of course, Chief. The regular?”

Cade snorts. “Bacon cheeseburger, medium rare, with onion ringsandfries.”

Hailey’s eyes dance, and a smile creeps up her face. “Exactly. You forgot the Coke, though.”

Tutting, Cade shakes his head. “If I ate like that, I’d be huge.” He lifts the hem of his shirt, flashing his washboard abs, then offers her another flirtatious wink. “I’ll take the salmon, steamed, with brown rice and broccoli. And a vodka tonic on the rocks with a lime.”

With a nod, she disappears to put in our order.

My phone buzzes again. I turn it over, this time pulling it closer to read it.

Liv: You know Beckett hates it when you don’t respond. He’s been going on about it for the last fifteen minutes. Please promise me you’ll try to have a personality when we get there. And text him back!

I get a perverse joy out of knowing I’ve annoyed Beckett Langfield. He’s like a forty-year-old toddler. A billionaire who’s always meddling in the lives of the people around him. He married my sister in Vegas two years ago, and while I assumed he’d taken advantage of her and I thought I’d have to kill him, my sister is happy, and he’s turned out to be an amazing stepfather to my nieces and nephew. That’s all that matters to me.

Me: Tell him to park at the station. Tell Ford to do the same. I’ll have the guys put Melina’s stuff in my office. Of course I’m set for her to stay. I told you she could. Excited to see you and the kids.

“Holy fuck, he texts,” Cade deadpans.

I glare at him as I put the phone down again.

“You never reply to my texts,” he prods, ducking down and turning my way.

Jaw clenched, I tamp down my annoyance. “I don’t like to text. You know this.”

“So who’s the chick who finally got you to reply?” he asks, waggling his brows. He’s such an idiot.

“Liv.”

He grins. “The hot younger sister.”

“I’m not even going to growl at you for that one. I’ll just relay your comment to Beckett.”

“Don’t you fucking dare. The man is a psychopath when it comes to his wife, and I like my job.”

---