Page 33 of Tight Spot

“If you’re done here, we could go to your place and talk about it?”

“We could. Or we could go grab a drink and actually be seen in public?”

Right. Because that was the whole point of this. “I think the things we need to talk about should be in private.”

“Trust me. I know just the place.”

I was already trusting her a hell of a lot, especially considering she was a stranger. Hell, she could still fuck me over, but she wouldn’t.

Didn’t know how I knew, but somehow, I figured Hailey might be the first woman I ever met who didn’t fuck me over.

And that was more terrifying.

“Lead the way.”

* * *

After Hailey finished locking up, she told me to leave my car parked. We walked down Main Street, full of vibrancy, families out, a huge line of them waiting out on a sidewalk for ice cream. There were breweries and food trucks parked outside, and at everyone we passed, music and laughter filtered out. The bar she took us to was only three blocks away but took a whack of time to get there considering Hailey was stopped every few yards with someone saying hello to her.

No introductions were made, although a few women eyed me curiously. She waved, said hello, and kept moving.

“You know everyone in this town?”

“Friendswood’s big and getting bigger, but I grew up here, and it used to be much smaller, or feel that way. Parents still live in town. And they’re friendly people. Mom teaches school at the middle school. Dad still volunteers at the fire department and works for the city. So yeah, not everyone. But enough.”

“And your business.”

“What?”

“You said you know everyone because you grew up here, and you might, but I’m guessing you know a lot more because of your shop?”

“Yeah.” She shrugged. Almost like she didn’t want to talk about it. Or maybe didn’t get a lot of compliments on it? Confused the hell out of me. “Maybe.”

She led me around a corner near the end of the street. I didn’t notice the signage, didn’t know what I was walking into, but as soon as we stepped inside, I knew exactly why she brought me here.

There were only eight tables in the darkened, small bar. An entire wall of wine bottles lined one wall and at the back was a small cashier stand. “We can go out back, there’s a small patio. Or stay here?”

Inside, in the dark, where we’d have to sit so close together I’d be able to settle my hand on her thigh? Worked for me…definitely.

“Is this place even open?”

“Yeah, it’s one of my favorite places.”

“Hey, Hailey!” a woman called.

Hailey turned to her and smiled. “Margo. How’s it going?”

“Good.” The brunette wiped the back of her hand at her hairline and then grabbed a towel. “Busy out back. Can’t figure out why because it is hot out there. And buggy. Cooler in here. And who’s this?”

The woman glanced at me. Had to be at least ten years older than me, putting her close to forty, and the look she gave me made me think of a protective big sister—at least for Hailey.

“Dawson. Dawson Butler,” I said. “Nice to meet you.”

“Butler…you’re…” Her brows lifted on her head. “Tight end? For Nashville?”

“That’s me.” I grinned, tried to fake it. I wasn’t recognized a ton but the name, for any sports fan, was memorable. That and I scored a touchdown during the Super Bowl. Davis and I had both been on that stage, standing behind Cole as he took that trophy in his hands for the first time.

“Wow. Cool. So cool to meet you, great season last year. My husband’s a freaking huge fan.”

---