Page 4 of Wildflower and Whiskey
Because the second Cooper leaned a little too close, I felt that same burn in my chest I used to feel in high school. The one I swore I buried years ago. I had no claim on her. Not then, sure as hell not now. She had a baby now, a whole damn life I knew nothing about.
But when her eyes flicked up and caught mine across the room, everything froze.
She looked startled, like she wasn’t expecting me to be watching. Then something softened in her expression, something that made my chest ache and my fists clench at the same time.
I snapped my gaze back to the invoices and forced my pen across the page. She was not here to mess with my head. She was here to work.
That’s all this was.
That’s all it could be.
So why did it already feel like I was losing a battle I didn’t even agree to fight? I asked Dominic to mentor her. He managed the restaurant, so it made sense. He was also married and inhis mid-forties, so there was no chance he’d be hitting on her. Fucking Cooper, on the other hand, wouldn’t leave me alone after she came in yesterday. He caught on to the tension between us, but it was more than that. He accused me of having the hots for Elyna. Not a chance in hell. That boat sailed a long time ago. She may be the most beautiful girl I’d ever seen. I may have thought that since I was a young boy because our mothers were best friends, and we were both the eldest child, but none of that mattered. We always had different friends in school. We hung with different crowds. We kept our home life and school life separate and, for good reason, we were very different people. It would be good for me to remind myself of that every time I looked at her because, boy, she was like a fine wine getting better with age.
We had a standard work outfit here. The servers wore a white dress shirt and black slacks. They also wore a black apron that had a modern logo of Maple Valley on it. I went to great lengths to make this place a thriving business. Not only did I learn how to microbrew my own beer, but I also spent time learning how to market and run a business. I may have left Val-Du-Lys after high school to travel in Europe because I felt like this place was suffocating me, but when my father needed me home, I came back. I went to college for a year and majored in business, but it wasn’t for me so I dropped out. Daddy was working full time, and my siblings had a knack of getting into trouble when they weren’t kept in check. I wanted to say it was guilt that brought me home but it wasn’t. This place was in my blood and this business was a labor of love that paid off.
This place was mine. Every square inch of it. From the grain in the wood tables I sanded myself, to the recipes I perfected after too many sleepless nights, to the staff I handpicked because they believed in my vision. This microbrewery was more than a business, it was my life. Proof that I could take all the chaos,all the mistakes, and turn them into something solid. Something that lasted.
Which is exactly why Elyna working here was dangerous.
I told myself I didn’t care. That she was just another employee. That Dominic had her covered, and I didn’t need to so much as glance her way. But the second she walked out of the back office in the uniform, I lost the battle I promised myself I’d win.
Her hair was tied up in some messy knot, a few strands falling around her face like she was too busy to notice. The shirt was standard, nothing flashy, but on her, it looked… good. Too good. She tugged at the apron like she wasn’t sure it fit right, and I was hit with this sucker punch of a memory of her standing in our backyard as a teenager, tugging at the hem of her shorts while daring me to race her to the creek. Same girl. Except she was different and so was I.
We were both older now. She was a little bruised around the edges. And somehow that only made her more dangerous. I forced my gaze away and leaned over the bar to check the taps, anything to avoid the way my chest tightened watching Dominic walk her through the basics. But my ears betrayed me, tuning in without permission.
Dominic was steady and patient, like always. He explained the table chart. Elyna nodded, biting her lip like she was trying to absorb every word. Then she was off taking an order from a table.
“She’ll do fine,” Dominic said when she fumbled with the notepad. His voice was low but I caught it anyway.
“Fine isn’t good enough,” I muttered under my breath, pretending to wipe down the bar. Elyna returned to the bar area with her order.
Cooper slid in like he’d been waiting for the perfect moment to get under my skin. He leaned against the bar, too close to her, that damn grin plastered on his face.
“So, Elyna, you ever carried six plates at once? Or should we just stick to baby steps?” His tone was teasing, light, but it still grated my nerves.
She laughed, actually laughed, and swatted at his arm. “I’ll manage, thanks. I’m not totally helpless.”
That sound. It had been years since I’d heard her laugh like that. The problem was I had too many memories with Elyna. Hot summer nights on my parents’ back porch, her laughing at something I said, and me pretending not to care how much it got under my skin. It was a routine we knew all too well. Only that friendly banter ended come Monday morning when we were back in school, and she acted like I didn’t exist. I still felt the harsh sting but I understood. Our families were friends, not us. Of course, we had to speak to each other and be civil when our families were hanging out. I remember when Mom got pregnant with Isabelle, my baby sister. I think Maggie had already been pregnant with Luc. Maggie wasn’t happy in her marriage. Her and Mom spoke often in hushed tones about Mr. Chabot and his drinking, his crass language, the way he didn’t work. I heard it all. So did Elyna. It made me feel for her. Then her mom died and things shifted. My mom took off. I always wondered why she would leave her family. My best guess was, she was so devastated by Maggie’s death she couldn’t bear to be around us or Maggie’s children anymore. The Chabots and Thornes lost a lot the winter Maggie died. Life was never the same again. Dad was left to raise us five kids on his own. Elyna was stuck with her alcoholic father and little brother. She went through a rough time. It was much worse for her than it was for us because at least our dad showed up, took responsibility, and cared for us. The Chabot kids had none of that. So even though Elyna mayhave been a royal bitch to me, there was still a part of me that sympathized with her.
I was brought back to the present when Cooper made her laugh again. It hit me like a punch to the ribs.
“Coop,” I barked, sharper than I intended. Both of them looked over, and I schooled my face into neutral. “Don’t you have kegs to haul?”
He smirked, not the least bit fazed. “Sure, boss.” He winked at Elyna before strolling off.
Her eyes flicked back to me, those gorgeous gray eyes that were so curious, almost challenging, and damn it, I looked away first and busied myself with the taps, adjusting something that didn’t need adjusting.
Dominic walked up to her and offered her another table.
“Thanks.” She smiled to him, appreciating his trust in her.
I watched her head over to the new table, her apron strings swaying, her shoulders set like she was ready for war. And maybe she was. But it wasn’t the waiting tables that made her stiff. She offered the patrons a warm smile, she joked with them, and ensured each person was satisfied, which meant it was me. As she returned to the bar each time with her order, she stiffened, and I knew. It was me—I was her battlefield.
Either way, I couldn’t stop watching her. And that was a big problem.
Hours later and Elyna was clearly a pro. The customers loved her. She was making great tips. She kept her head down and customers satisfied. There was no hint of her being the stuck-up cheerleader from high school. This version of her was responsible. Maybe it was becoming a mother that made her change her ways. What did I know? It didn’t really matter.
By 5:00 p.m. her shift was over. She walked over to me while I was sitting on my usual stool at the bar.
