Page 18 of Keeping You
I don’t think we have a reservation, not anything I made anyway, but Mom doesn’t need to know that. We say our goodbyes and head out to Callie’s car.
“I thought we could eat at Pete’s.” Callie keeps the radio on, some country station that fills the silence between us. I catch her glancing at me out of the corner of her eye, but every time I try to start a conversation, she turns the music up a little louder.
Other than the Bluebonnet, Dairy Queen, and Whataburger, Pete’s is the only sit-down, higher-end dining establishment Cupid’s Creek has, and it probably hasn’t changed since the last time I stepped inside.
I’m proven right ten minutes later when we drive into the lot of the town’s honky-tonk bar that caters to the under-forty crowd with live music, cheap beer, and a dance floor that’s seen better decades. “He still hasn’t changed the sign?”
She darts a look in my direction. “Did you really expect him to?”
The sign out front still says Jolene’s in chipped red paint, with a faded image of a cowgirl riding a mechanical bull. The bull is long gone, and everyone calls it Pete’s after the gruff, no-nonsense owner who bought the place twenty-plus years ago. The burgers are greasy perfection, the beer is cold, and if it’s Friday night, you’d best be ready to dance.
“Nope.” The parking lot is packed, which means half the town is already inside.
“Perfect,” Callie mutters, checking her lipstick in the rearview mirror. “Maximum exposure.”
The comment stings more than it should. “Look, if you don’t want to do this…”
“I want to do this,” she says firmly. “I need to do this. Kirk and Harper need to see that I’ve moved on to something better.”
Something better. Right. I’m not sure if that’s a compliment or a dig at her ex, but I don’t get a chance to ask because she’s already getting out of the car.
Inside, the bar is loud, crowded, and smoky despite the no-smoking laws. A band is setting up on the small stage, and the scuffed dance floor is full of couples swaying to music from the jukebox. I scan the crowd, noting that the place is packed tonight, which is good news for Pete, but a reminder of how empty Sweet as Sin has been lately. Anna mentioned that weekend crowds used to spill out onto the sidewalk, with a line for her cinnamon rolls stretching down the block. Now they’re lucky to fill half the tables on a Saturday.
As if reading my thoughts, I notice Martha at a corner table, the town’s most notorious gossip holding court with three other women, their eyes tracking our entrance like heat-seeking missiles. If this fake dating plan has any chance of working, it’s because of people like her, who’ll spread the word faster than social media ever could.
I also spot a few newbies, like Rachel, Travis Kincaid’s wife. Travis is older than me by about ten years, but I went to school with his younger brothers, Beau and Sawyer.
“There,” Callie says, nodding toward a table near the bar. “Harper and Kirk.”
I spot them immediately. Harper looks happy, laughing at something Kirk is saying. He’s got his arm around her, possessive and comfortable, his fingers casually stroking her shoulder in that universal male gesture of ‘mine.’ They looklike a couple, not like two people carrying on some torrid affair behind anyone’s back. Is Callie all wrong about this? Or are they just better at hiding their guilt than I expected? Either way, there’s something off about Kirk that sets my teeth on edge. Maybe it’s the way his eyes keep darting around the room, like he’s constantly checking who might be watching.
“You sure you want to do this?” I ask her one more time.
“Absolutely.” She grabs my arm, her grip tight. “Come on, date. Time to put on a show.”
As we make our way through the crowd, people notice us. We get a few whispers and plenty of open-mouthed stares, exactly what Callie wanted. Mission accomplished.
“Callie.” Harper jumps up from her seat, all smiles and enthusiasm, though I can see her lips wobbling. “Hey, Luke.” She throws her arms around me in a hug that’s a little too enthusiastic. “I didn’t expect to see you two together.”
An awkward silence stretches between us for three beats too long. I catch Harper shooting Kirk a look I can’t quite decipher. It appears to be part warning, part something else.
He shifts in his seat, his posture stiffening as he finally looks at Callie.
The muscles in her arm tense under my hand, and I give her a gentle squeeze, a silent reminder that we’re in this together, even if this charade is already going off the rails.
“Callie, that dress is gorgeous on you. I don’t think I’ve seen it before. I think you’re the best-dressed person in this joint. You clean up nice, too, big brother.”
Regardless of her surprise, Harper is smiling, and I glance at Callie, who seems confused. This isn’t the reaction she was expecting. Harper is supposed to be jealous, uncomfortable. Instead, she’s acting like she might be happy about this development.
Harper’s eyes dart back and forth between us, wide, beseeching. I give her a look, mentally telling her to take it down a notch.
Kirk, on the other hand, has joined us and is standing behind Harper, hands shoved in his pocket, eyes to the floor, looking like he’d rather be anywhere but here.
“Kirk, I assume.” I stick out my hand. It takes him a second to acknowledge me. I shake his hand, noting the weak grip and the way he won’t glance at Callie.
“We should get a table,” Callie says, her smile brittle. “Wouldn’t want to interrupt your evening.”
“Don’t be silly,” Harper insists. “Sit with us. That’s okay with you, right, Kirk?”
