Page 9 of Peaches

“Yeah.” Tony laughs, seemingly unaware as he takes another swig. “I mean, don’t get me wrong—you’re easy on the eyes in that picture. It’s not like anything was a turn-off, you know? But I consider myself to be pretty picky, and I guess I just wasn’t sure if it’d be worth it.”

I squint at him. “If what would be worth it?”

He shrugs. “You know”—he waves a hand around as if to indicate anything and everything it took to get here on these stools together—“this date.”

I can only stare at him in disbelief.

“But it is,” he insists, perhaps recognizing the massive offense in what he’s saying. “Like I said, you’re areallooker. Very pretty.” He smiles. “I don’t even care that you’re just a waitress.”

Anger pinches deep in my belly, a sharp and uncomfortable pressure. “I’m not?—”

“Get out,” a deep voice gruffs.

I turn to find Rhett standing on the other side of the bar, his scowl trained on Tony. His dark cowboy hat is sunk low over his head, and it makes him look even more menacing than I already know him to be.

Tony shifts to give me a look likeWho the fuck is this guy?before addressing Rhett. “What?”

Rhett points a thick finger at the door. “Get the fuck out of my bar.”

Tony’s face crumples into a frown. “I don’t understand.”

I begin to rise from my own stool, utterly mortified, but I know better than to cross a Bennett.

“Oh no,” Rhett says, turning his attention my way. His pale gray eyes bore into mine and I feel the weight of his focus press into me. “Sit down.”

“All right, man,” Tony interjects. “You talk to her like that and we’re going to have some real problems.”

Rhett smiles. “Oh yeah?” My stomach coils with dread—Tony isn’t from around here and has no idea who he’s talking to. Rhett Bennett is thelastperson he should be fucking with.

Thisis what I get for trying to have some fun. Charlotte is going to lose her mind when I call her later.

Tony throws him a hard look. “Yeah. You know what? Where’s your manager? I’d like to talk to someone about your behavior.”

Rhett smirks, a dark and dangerous thing. “Tell you what, City Slicker . . . instead of focusing on my bad behavior, why don’t you take a minute to reflect on your own?”

An older man who shares Rhett’s nose and jawline—his brother, Kasey—rounds the corner from the back with two bottles of liquor in hand. He pauses when he notices Rhett’s stance. “Something wrong, Rhett?” he asks cautiously.

“Yeah,” Tony answers instead, his voice an octave higher. “This guy is trying to tell us to leave for no good reason?—”

Rhett shoves a finger right in the middle of Tony’s chest, and Tony’s eyes bulge out of their sockets. “No, asshole. I’m tellingyouto leave because you’re a sack of shit and I don’t want you stinkin’ up my bar.”

“Rhett,” Kasey warns.

“She stays,” Rhett continues, eyes flicking my way for a beat before bouncing back. “Date’s over. Get out.”

Tony turns to look at me, brows pinched in a furious show of indignation. “What the hell kind of place is this, Olivia? Shitty bar in a shitty fucking town . . .”

Now I’m the one throwing a daggered expression. “This is my home, asshole,” I retort, surprised at my bravery in such a contentious moment. But I’ve put up with enough shit in the last couple of nights—enough to last me months—and it’s about time I stood up for myself. “You know what? I wish youhadn’tswiped. Hell, I wish I hadn’t swiped. This whole thing was a mistake.”

Tony’s ears glow bright red. “Wow.” He shakes his head as he stands, doing his best to save face. There are other men around the bar watching the scene unfold, most of them I recognize as the husbands of some of Saddlebrook Falls’s most notorious gossip mongers, and I realize how easy it would be for all of this to get back to my mother. She’d have a field day if she knew I was meeting strangers from the internet.

Tony stands and shoves his drink toward Rhett, causing some of the white liquid to spill onto the bar top. “This tastes like shit, by the way,” he says before striding out the front door.

I turn back to look at Rhett and find him already watching me. Kasey stands a foot away from him, looking back and forth between us. “Want to tell me what that was about?” he asks his brother.

“Nope,” Rhett answers, keeping his eyes fastened on me from beneath the brim of his dark hat. The black felt contrasts the gray storms in his eyes, painting them almost onyx in the low bar light.

Kasey sighs. “Right.” He walks away, mumbling something incoherent under his breath.

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