Page 7 of Peaches

Kasey sighs, his eyes softening. “He’s been hungrier than a hog lately. Must be going through a growth spurt.”

Thinking about those boys growing up without their mama around to see them twists a knot in my stomach, and I busy myself with pulling down the Christmas lights that are stapled around the door frame. I’m still annoyed we have this shit up at all, but Kasey wanted to decorate, like he does every year. Says it helps lighten the mood in this place.

I hear the clinking of glass as Kasey fills the fridge below the bar with the bottles he’s just brought in. “Gonna be another busy night,” he calls out from where he’s hunched over.

No shit, I think. It’s Saturday, our busiest night of the week. Fridays are a close second, though I’m sure Wells was still able to get out of here by nine last night to get back to Layla and the boys. I’m on closing duty tonight, but Kasey will still probably be here until around eleven. “How’d things go last night?”

“Eh.” He knocks a shoulder up before reaching for more beers. “Not too bad. Old man Gerry closed the place down with me—most everyone else was out before midnight.”

Gerry was the oldest person in Saddlebrook Falls. He knew my grandfather well and is one of the only people who ever defended him to the rest of town. Things between the Bennetts and everyone else didn’t grow sour until Grandpa grew into a feral teenager and caused trouble everywhere he went. He had a wild hare up his ass and tore through this town like a tornado on wheels, chasing girls and starting fights with anyone who looked at him sideways. He calmed down in his old age, but the damage to our family name had been done.

Our dad certainly didn’t help things. As the oldest of three boys, Dad should have been a good example for his younger brothers, just like Brooks and Kasey were for us. But Dad was wilder than Grandpa ever was, and we’ve all been dealing with the repercussions of his actions for as long as I can remember.

“How is that old man?” I ask.

Kasey smiles. “Still kickin’, that’s for sure.”

I grin before I pull out my pocketknife to pry the staples from the wooden frame.

* * *

Four hours later,there’s a steady stream of people flowing through the door. At max capacity, the cramped bar holds about forty patrons, which isn’t a whole lot compared to most other bars. But the way these people suck down liquor keeps Kasey and I busier than two beavers in a hurricane, and I’ve already lost what little scraps of patience I had today.

“Rhett,” Sunny Cooke calls from the corner of the bar, his sweat-stained collar stuck to the side of his sun-weathered neck. “Beer me!”

I hold up the four bottles of Coors Light I’ve got between my hands. “Little busy here, Sunny,” I bite back.

“Yeah, yeah,” Sunny mutters, turning back to his brother Boone, whose eyes are already glazed over.

Sunny and Boone aren’t technically from Saddlebrook Falls—they live in a run-down shack out past county lines, selling fresh eggs from their chickens and whatever else they can find worth a quarter or two. I can’t imagine they’re able to make much money that way, but they still somehow end up here a couple times a month and spend enough of it to get piss-drunk. We usually have to drag them out the door because they don’t stop drinking ’til we force them to, and by the looks of things, Boone is halfway there.

I bring the bottles I’m holding to a high-top out on the floor and drop them on the table’s surface between eager hands, scooping up the empties before I head back for the bar. The jangle of the bell above the door sounds and, on instinct, I turn to look at a young couple walking in.

My gaze immediately locks in on the girl, on her smokey green eyes surrounded by long lashes and strawberry blonde hair curled to frame her pretty face, the strands much lighter than they’d looked in the dark last night. I stop dead in my tracks.

Olivia.

Those beautiful eyes grow wide as saucers when she sees me, like she didn’t expect to find me here. Not sure how, since this is my family’s bar . . . but I’ve also never seenherin here before, so her surprise could be genuine.

I watch her throat bob before she looks up at the guy she came in here with, an uneasy smile spreading across her face. I, too, turn my attention to the lanky kid next to her and frown.Jesus. Didn’t take her long to find a new one. The guy grins at her, wrapping a long arm around her shoulders and leading her farther inside.

I move behind the bar where I have a better angle to study him. He’s an angular-looking city boy with slicked-back hair and a shirt so starched it’s practically wearing him. Looking back at Olivia, I find her flushed as she takes off her denim jacket. Blood flows to the surface of her soft cheeks in a way that both excites and irritates me. Something about the way she can’t stop glancing in this direction, like she can sense my impatience about this whole thing, has me standing a little straighter. The smell of her perfume from last night—sweet and ripe like a basket full of peaches—floods through my memory, and I have to force my attention onto a stack of cocktail napkins.

Thankfully, Kasey notices when they sit down and works his way over there. We’ve all been in this godforsaken town our whole lives, so I know Kasey and Olivia know each other, but neither of them rushes to mention it. “Evenin’,” Kasey greets them warmly. “Can I get you folks something to drink?”

“Two White Russians,” City Boy replies, and I almost snort. Figures he’d order something with fucking milk. I’m pretty sure the open gallon in the fridge has been in there for almost a month, but I don’t stop Kasey as he turns to work on making their drinks.

I need to distract myself before my tongue starts flying, so I bend to grab two bottles of Miller Lite from the fridge and walk them over to Sunny and Boone. “’Bout time,” Sunny mumbles bitterly as I set them down.

I plant both hands on the bar top and lean down to look him right in the eye. “You know something, Sunny? I’m getting real tired of you two comin’ in here and actin’ like the world revolves around your sorry asses. You don’t like the service? Find somewhere else that’ll deal with your shit.”

Boone starts laughing, a wheezy, obnoxious sound, and slaps his brother on the shoulder. “Aw, Sunny, lighten up. These boys treat us good.”

I grin. “Yeah, see. Listen to Boone.”

Sunny clicks his tongue. “Listenin’ to Boone never leads us anywhere fucking good.”

Boone stops laughing, eyes squinting as he tries to look serious. “Well, fuck you, Sunny.”

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