Page 4 of Crewe
“Well, I did come over for a reason. Vivi wants us to take a family vacation, and when I say family, I mean all the family. She wanted me to ask you, Gunner, about the town you worked in for a while,” Whiskey said.
“Oh, Mistletoe Canyon. Yeah, it would be a fantastic place for a vacation for you all. Christmas all year long. You need to make sure your vacation includes a weekend. On Saturday, Santa—or their version of Santa, Père Noël—is in the parade and then is available for pictures on Santa’s lap.There are other times during the week he’s available too, but Saturday there’s a carnival and fun at all the businesses. They have so many activities and places to stay. The major season is October to December, so if you went in September, it would not be as crowded and a little cheaper. They even have an MC. It’s all about riding, family, and helping others. I can send you the information for who to talk with about booking a vacation,” Gunner said.
“If you could send that to Vivi. She was going to come down and chat with you, but Bailey only wanted Mommy to hold her before bed tonight,” Whiskey said.
“Sure thing. Once Brody is recovered enough to ride long distances, I told him we have to visit. There are some great curves to ride with a bike,” Gunner said.
Crewe listened to Whiskey asking about the activities and thought how fun that would be with Freya and Wyatt, but Ry would have to want to go.
Crewe enjoyed eating his food, chatting with the guys, and chiming in when it was something that interested him. He couldn’t remember the last time he left the kitchen and just relaxed with friends. He needed to make an effort to take more time for himself. If he wasn’t going to have a woman to go home to, at least he could have friends besides his brothers to hang out with.
“Hey, Crewe, I’ve been helping a family who lost their home to a fire. You know anybody getting rid of a queen mattress or a twin? We got bed frames and box springs but no mattresses. I hate to buy them if we can get them free,” Flick asked.
“Oh, yeah, I can get you that. I’ll put the word out tonight. Probably have it in less than a couple days,” Crewe said. Getting stuff was one of the things he excelled at. Hennessy might be the one women called to get wished a good morning or good night, but when someone needed something, they called him. He listened and had an amazing ability to keep track of who had what. He also maintained a list on the computer he kept up to date.
Gunner got up, and Crewe didn’t think anything of it until Gunner didn’t return. The jukebox started playingHonkytonk Badonkadonkand some of the guys turned toward the dance floor.
Crewe turned and just about swallowed his tongue. Ry, in those jeans that hugged every curve she had, was in Gunner’s arms and being spun around the floor. Crewe worked to keep his face from showing how jealous he was of Gunner. He wanted to be the one with Ry in his arms, but it didn’t seem like that was going to happen.
He had no clue how to move them from friends to something more. Even though he was in his forties, sometimes he still felt like that gangly teenager with acne who stood on the sidelines while the other guys got dates.
Ry laughed and smiled while Gunner and she danced. His heart hurt seeing her give that smile to someone else. He wondered how he’d deal if she fell for someone else. He honestly couldn’t watch this any longer.
“It was good chatting with you all. I need to get back to the kitchen and make sure they’re ontrack. Enjoy your ride,” Crewe said, picking up his plate and silverware to help the server out. The group called their goodbyes, and Crewe hurried toward the kitchen.
Maybe he needed to talk with Whiskey or Hennessy and see if they had any suggestions. But he hated feeling inadequate, and asking for help made him feel like that kid from high school.
Chapter Four
Crewe rode his motorcycle back toward the bar. He’d hoped a ride might clear his head. Ryanne was gone this weekend. She was visiting some different sites in Kansas to photograph for her fall catalog of prints. Her parents had the kids, and Crewe didn’t realize how lonely he’d be.
It was strange to be lonely when his family was always around, but sometimes he could feel lonely even in a crowd. He pulled his motorcycle under the covered parking area at Nelson’s that wasreserved for family. He wasn’t sure if he’d go out again, so he left it under the canopy. Weather looked fine, so no reason to park it in the garage.
He walked into the bar area, filled with the sounds of a hopping Saturday night, and wondered what he should do. Nothing sounded like something fun, and he was in the mood to have fun.
Each day that he watched Ry, which is what he called her in his head, work the bar and not be his was excruciating. He’d never understood those men who didn’t go after the women they wanted until now. It was like she didn’t even see him that way. Maybe he did know what he wanted to do. He wanted to forget all about his life and the woman who didn’t see him as anything more than a friend.
He walked behind the bar and grabbed a glass, a bottle of Jack Daniel’s, and a pitcher of cola. If he was going to forget, he was doing this right. He took his party to the booth in the corner and settled in.
Normally he’d fix it with one part Jack and two parts cola, but tonight was about forgetting. He poured his glass half full with Jack, then filled it to the rim with cola. Staring into his glass, he made a wish: If Ry wasn’t going to be his, help him move on. He knew it was a futile wish. Ry was everything he wanted in a woman and then some. If he could only taste her lips and convince her how good they’d be together, then they could move forward.
One glass turned into two and then into four. With each drink, he cared a little less. By the time he’d finished the pitcher, things were looking a lot rosier.
“Hey, Hennessy, another pitcher and bottle,” Crewe called across the bar. It would do Hennessy good to get some exercise walking across the bar. Hennessy nodded and brought his items over.
Hennessy slid into the booth across from Crewe.
“How’s it going?” Hennessy asked.
“Just fine,” Crewe said, pouring the Jack into the glass to three-quarters full and adding a little cola.
“Just fine, but you’re on your second bottle of Jack. I know we all have a tolerance for alcohol, but you’re going to hate yourself in the morning,” Hennessy said.
“Better than thinking. Now go away. You’re ruining my vibe,” Crewe said, motioning for Hennessy to leave.
Hennessy chuckled and shook his head. “Suit yourself.”
Crewe would suit himself. Hennessy was turning into a big baby now that he was married and had kids. He was no fun. Crewe finished the glass and wondered what he could do to win Ry.
