Page 107 of Mountain Boss

Sterling

A filled-to-the-brimdraft beer is set down in front of me.

“Thanks,” I tell Jessie, the bartender and sister of the owner.

She lifts a brow as she rests an elbow on the bar. “You can thank me by telling me who pissed in your Cheerios.”

I scrunch up my nose as I drag the beer closer. “Thankfully, no one. That’s disgusting.”

She rolls her eyes. “Sorry, I forgot you were a prude. Let me rephrase. What has your panties in a twist?”

“Dammit, Jessie, I don’t want to hear you talking about fuckingpanties.” Rocky, owner of Rocky Ridge Inn, settles onto the stool next to me. “If she’s being inappropriate, I’ll write her up.” He turns to me, hand out.

I shake his hand in greeting while Jessie cackles out a laugh.

“Who you gonna write me up to, human resources?” She uses a thumb to gesture to the giant tiger muskie mounted on the wall with HR scrawled beneath it.

The Inn, as everyone calls it, is low key. Gets a little loud on the weekends, but it has the classic dive bar feel, with a limited menu and cheap rooms in the attached motel.

I don’t really know how long Rocky has owned this place, but it’s been a while.

The man himself is about my size. Tall and broad but probably a decade older.

You wouldn’t know it from his build, but his white beard and messy gray hair give him away.

Jessie gets her looks from the other side of their family, slender and dark haired, and she’s somewhere around my age.

Rocky sighs. “Never work with family.”

The side of my mouth pulls up. “That’s a rule I can adhere to.”

Jessie, for all her faked attitude, sets a beer down in front of Rocky. “Maybe you can get our boy here in a better mood.”

Rocky lifts a brow. “She talkin’ about you?”

I shrug and pick up my beer.

Jessie nods in my direction. “Sterling’s never been a talker, but his aura of gloom is a bit much tonight.”

“I don’t have an aura of gloom,” I argue. But I’m not convincing. Because I know I do.

Jessie makes a sarcastic sound of agreement before moving down the bar to refill a raised glass.

I take a gulp of my drink, trying to dispel said gloom.

It doesn’t work.

I spent all afternoon thinking about Courtney. Wondering if I should’ve said no to the Inn and spent the evening with her.

Talking.

Fucking.

Both.

But I ended up here anyway because I couldn’t decide what was right.

I know I’m not done with her.

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