Page 69 of The Heartstrings of Harry
I laughed, already feeling the tension in my shoulders ease a little. “Hey, Aunt Bea.”
“Hey, Aunt Bea,” she mocked, waggling her finger. “That all I get after a whole year?”
She sashayed out from behind the bar like a queen making her entrance—arms open wide, sequins shimmering like a disco ball. She grabbed me into a hug so tight I swear my ribs popped.
“Mmmm!” She pulled back just enough to hold me at arm’s length, looking me up and down like she was appraising a prize bull at the county fair. “Well, damn, sugar. I see fame’s been feeding you real nice. You filled out good! Got that jawline workin’ too. Look atyou!”
I felt my face flush hot. “You’re being too nice.”
She gave me a look. “Baby, I’m beingaccurate.Don’t make me fetch my reading glasses to make the point.”
Harry snorted softly beside me, and Bea swung her gaze toward him.
“Andyou,handsome—”She winked. “Still brooding and delicious as ever. I’d flirt with you, but I respect you far too much.”
Harry gave her one of those shy, half -smiles that made my knees wobble.
Bea turned back to me, folding her arms under her chest with a little shake of her head. “I gotta say, I’m surprised to seeyouwalkin’ through that door like a grown-ass man. Last time you were here, I couldn’t even serve you a Sprite without checkin’ your ID twice. Now look at you—legal and lookin’ dangerous.”
“This’ll be my first drink at your bar,” I admitted, sliding onto one of the stools.
“Well, hell, sugar, that calls for somethin’ special.” She snapped her fingers and pointed to the bottles behind her. “You trust me to make you somethin’ good?”
“I trust you.”
“Mmmm,” she hummed, pleased. “Good answer.”
She got to work, graceful and dramatic, throwing a lemon twist into the air and catching it one-handed like it was all part of the show. She poured, stirred, tasted, nodded to herself. “Can’t have your first drink at Aunt Bea’s be basic. We’re goin’ classic with a little extra.” She slid a cocktail glass toward me, rim sugared, the drink bright and golden. “Bee’s Knees. Gin, honey, lemon. Sweet, strong, a little sting in the tail. Just like me.”
Harry chuckled and leaned on the bar beside me, and Bea popped the cap off a beer bottle for him without even asking what he wanted.
“So.” Bea braced both hands on the bar, leaning in close. “I heard y’all are tearing up my nice peaceful park with some kinda techno monster truck circus. Got people runnin’ around like squirrels on espresso.”
I groaned. “Yeah. It’s… a lot.”
Bea rolled her eyes, grinning. “Mmm-hmm. Your little friend Astrid came in here last night, flappin’ her little city girl mouth about lasers and line arrays like she was planning the second coming of Beyoncé. You sure know how to turn things upside -down, baby boy.”
I felt a flush of guilt. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for this to happen.”
Aunt Bea simply winked. “Oh sugar, don’t you worry your pretty little head over it. I’m sure everything will be back to normal before we know it. Like my Grammy always said—no parade stays fabulous forever, even glitter settles at some point.”
“Your Grammy said that?” Harry asked.
Bea primped her hair proudly. “Actually, that one’s mine.” She gave me one more playful squint, then patted my hand. “Good to see you back, honeybunch. I’ll leave you boys to it.”
She sauntered off down the bar, hips swaying and lips syncing to the song as the jukebox switched over to Stevie Wonder’s “Signed, Sealed, Delivered (I’m Yours).”
Harry turned toward me on the stool, elbow on the bar, eyes soft and steady.
“You alright?” he asked quietly.
I nodded, but it was shaky. “Yeah. I mean… no. Not really.”
Harry reached out, his fingers brushing against my knee under the bar, hidden from view. Just enough to let me feel him there. I pressed my leg back against his, craving his touch.
“I hate lying,” I blurted before I could stop myself. “I hate… hiding this. Hiding us. Now that you and I know how we feel, I want the whole world to know.”
Harry’s gaze didn’t waver. “Me too. But… first we have to figure out a way to break it to your dad.”
