Page 32 of Sunshine
To top off my night from hell, the barstool that’s usually taken by Wade is empty. As if I wasn’t feeling bad enough, the guy I’m not even interested in chose tonight of all nights to decide he’s not interested in me either.
It’s times like this that I remember why I ran away.
I’m distracted by another customer when Dylan approaches the bar, so I’m startled when I turn around and find him leaning against the timber top.
“What can I get you?” I ask, sticking with the carefully controlled politeness I’ve worn like armor ever since the night he licked my wrist, acted like a jealous boyfriend, then tried to pretend it never happened.
Dylan’s forehead creases. “Are you all right?”
“Me? I’m fine. Do you need more drinks?”
“Club soda and a white wine. Thanks.”
“No problem.”
I try hard not to say anything else. I really do. But as I pour the drinks, the words spill out of me. “So, how’s your date?”
Dylan spares a quick glance at the booth where Molly waits with her back to us. “It’s…fine.”
“She’s pretty.”
“Yeah.”
“And funny? Smart?”
“She’s—”
“I’ll add these to your tab,” I say before I hear something I can’t un-hear, likeyes, Molly is funny and smart and the love of my life.
I set Dylan’s drinks on the counter between us. “You don’t want to keep Molly waiting.”
“Poppy. About the other night…”
I respond with a blank smile, blinking like I don’t have a brain between my ears and ignoring the lurching flip of my stomach. “What night was that?”
Dylan hesitates, then picks up the drinks and shakes his head. “Never mind. Thanks.”
The flip drops into disappointment. “You’re welcome.”
Dylan turns to leave, but he’s blocked from taking another step by Wade’s broad, obnoxious frame. Dylan throws me a look that’s part question, part accusation, and I ignore it in favor of tormenting him. It’s his own fault. He shouldn’t make it so easy.
“Hey, Wade.” I grab a glass and pour him a beer, disregarding the weight of Dylan’s eyes on me. “I’d about given up on you tonight.”
“Had a problem at the ranch,” he says, eying Dylan with old wariness as he slides onto his stool. “But I couldn’t miss date night.”
“Datenight?” Dylan spins so fast that wine spills over the lip of the glass, and he spears me with a glower that’s a hundred kinds of hot. “What’s he talking about?”
“Inside joke.” I nod toward his booth, where Molly has twisted around to see what’s taking Dylan so long with her drink. “Don’t you have somewhere to be?”
Dylan flares his nostrils, staring at me hard like there’s something he wants to say. I’ll never know what it is because with a final scowl, he turns his back and stalks away.
His irritation is a point to me, but I still feel like I’ve lost.
“So,” I say to Wade as I mop up the spill on the bar. “What was the problem at the ranch?”
“Couple of the cattle are sick,” he says before he stops himself and raises a suspicious eyebrow. “Why are you interested in my ranch all of a sudden?”
“Just trying to pass the time.”
