Page 58 of On The Rocks

He laughed and brought out the leftover biscuits from breakfast with a tub of butter. “Little early for dinner but I should set you right before you have to drive.”

I sighed and sat across from him. “Who can resist Laverne’s stew?”

“Not me.”

We kept the conversation light. Talked about the weekend opening of the taproom and the cottages he was working on with Beckett and Justin until it was closer to the summer concert series.

By the time we cleaned our bowls and finished off the biscuits, the sun was cresting along the tops of the trees.

We cleaned up in companionable silence.

“I really do need to get home. Can you do me a favor?”

“Anything.”

“Don’t give me that option.”

He grinned.

I looked down at my bare toes, wiggling them before I raised my gaze to his. “Can you grab my flats out of my Jeep? They’re in the console in a bag. That gravel would hurt.”

He laughed and tugged his shirt out of his back pocket, slipping it over his head. I shamelessly skimmed my gaze over the muscles that bunched before they were hidden. “You got it.”

He crossed to the huge wooden door, paused to stuff his feet into a pair of Vans, before disappearing.

While he was gone, I gathered my clothes, wrapping them into one of my stretchy tank tops. I was a master at packing.

When he came back in, I saw the frown.

I tucked the bottom of the hem around my bundle to keep them together. “Didn’t find them?”

He held up my purse and the little satin bag. “No, I got it.”

I crossed to him and took my hobo bag, stuffing my clothes inside. “Why did you bring my bag?”

“You’ve got a flat—well, two, actually.”

“What?” I dug out my ballet flats and dropped them to the floor, then I slipped them on as I rushed to the door.

He was right behind me as I stood with my hands on my hips. “Yeah. I would just change it to your backup, but both back tires are flat.”

“How?”

“I don’t know. You must have picked up a nail in the dark.”

“But two?” I turned around. “That’s pretty impressive, even for me.”

He laughed. “Let me drive you home.”

I sighed. These particular Jeep tires weren’t exactly standard. I wasn’t exactly an off-road girl, but I’d learned that drivingaround in the orchard required a bit more grip than the average tires.

“I have to get this beast towed.” I patted the purple panel over my very flat tire.

“I’ll take care of it.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“Least I can do for driving my drunk ass home.”

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