Page 29 of On The Rocks

“That’s not true.”

She peered up through her lashes. Long lashes, damn her. Mine weren’t like that at all. “You know it is. And I’m here all the time, so who am I going to meet?”

“There’s an app for that.”

“Hell, no.” This time, she did scoop up the barbecue pork and stuff it in her mouth. “I tried that too,” she said, around her bite. “Disaster.”

“Well, I can’t blame you on the dating apps. They are a true hellscape.”

“As if you need to use an app. Please.” She hunched over her bowl.

“You try being in a different place every other week. Not so easy to do anything other than a hookup.”

And I was fine with that.

Morethan fine with it, usually.

Usually.

I blamed this damn orchard for giving me ideas about anything. And it tangled me up because I loved it here, but it made me restless at the same time.

My phone buzzed in my jeans, and I pulled it out.

Richard:

I need an answer soon.

I shoved it back in my pocket without replying. Mostly because I didn’t have an answer.

Everything I’d scrimped and saved for was being offered to me.

In Miami.

My own place. A backer who believed in me but wasn’t going to hamper me and my vision for a nightclub. Richard Devon was an angel investor who would put up the other half of the cash I needed to open up Daphne’s.

Named after my mom.

The goal I’d had for myself since I turned eighteen.

I should have been busy making plans for the place right on the water in the heart of Miami.

It was absolutely perfect.

And I was here.

Not making plans.

Not answering him.

It didn’t make any sense.

“You good?” Annette asked.

“Yeah. You ready to go back in and get ready?”

She sighed. “I suppose. Hey, maybe one of the food truck guys would like a wild and willing head waitress who wants a spring fling?”

I grinned. “You never know.”

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