Page 5 of Love, Lies, and Celtic Knots

Now I’m alone in the giant booth, staring into the amber depths of my whiskey glass. For a moment, I consider heading home myself. But the thought of returning to my empty cottage, of spending another night tossing and turning, replaying the day’s stresses in my head, is too much.

Instead, I slide out of the booth and make my way to the bar, settling onto a stool. The bartender nods at me, refilling my glass without a word. I appreciate the solitude, the chance to just sit and breathe for a minute.

I’m halfway through my drink when someone stands next to the stool beside me. I glance over, half-expecting to see another of the town’s regulars, but instead, I’m met with a pair of striking dark brown eyes and a smile that’s equal parts charming and mischievous.

“Rough day?” he asks, his voice smooth as silk.

“You could say that,” I reply, turning slightly to face him. He’s tall, broad-shouldered, and dressed in a way that suggests he doesn’t usually hang out in small-town bars like Jumpin’ Jacks. There’s something about him that immediately piques my interest, though.

“Mind if I join you?” he asks, gesturing to the empty stool beside me.

“Be my guest,” I say, intrigued.

He orders a drink, something dark and strong, and we sit in companionable silence for a moment. I can’t help but notice the way his eyes seem to take in everything around us, like he’s assessing the room, or maybe just me.

“Is this place usually this quiet on a Thursday night?” he asks, breaking the silence.

“Depends on the night,” I reply with a shrug. “But it’s good for thinking. Or drinking.” I raise my glass.

He chuckles, a deep sound that vibrates through the quiet of the bar. “Sounds like you’ve got both on your agenda tonight.”

“Maybe,” I say, taking a sip of my drink, the warmth of the alcohol settling into my veins. “Sometimes it’s nice to have a little company, though.”

He raises his glass, as if to toast to that sentiment. “Here’s to unexpected company, then.”

Our glasses clink softly, and I take a moment to study him. There’s a quiet confidence about him, something that suggests he’s comfortable wherever he goes, no matter the setting. It’s interesting, and I find myself wanting to know more, even if it’s just for tonight.

“So, what brings you to a place like this?” I ask, curious about this stranger who’s somehow ended up next to me in this beach bar.

“Business,” he replies with a nonchalant shrug. “But I like to mix business with pleasure whenever I can.”

I raise an eyebrow, amused. “And which one am I?”

He grins, leaning in slightly. “I’m hoping the latter.”

There’s a spark of chemistry between us, something electric that makes my pulse quicken. It’s been a while since I’ve felt that, and I’m not entirely sure what to do with it.

“So, what do you do when you’re not sitting alone at bars, drowning your sorrows?” he asks, his tone teasing but not unkind.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” I reply, keeping my tone light, playful.

He chuckles again, that same deep, warm sound. “I would, actually. But I won’t push.”

His restraint only makes me more curious about him. There’s an air of mystery around him, and I can’t help but wonder what stories he’s hiding behind those chocolate-brown eyes.

“Tell me something interesting about yourself,” he says, turning the tables on me. “Something that would surprise me.”

I hesitate, not sure how much I want to share with this stranger. But there’s something about him that makes me want to keep talking, to see where this conversation might lead.

“Well,” I say, deciding to play along, “I collect wooden rulers. That’s got to count as something interesting. Right?”

He looks at me, clearly confused. “Okay. I’ve got to know. Why do you collect wooden rulers?” He pauses, a smile playing on his lips.

“I don’t know. I’ve always loved them; the colors and printing on them. Eventually, I’ll use the ones I’ve collected to cover a wall in my cottage for a unique look,” I reply, my confidence returning as I meet his curious gaze.

“That is something interesting.” His voice is deadpan as he drains the rest of his glass.

“Turnabout is fair play. Time to tell me something interesting about you,” I challenge him with my eyebrows raised.

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