Page 37 of The Rebel with Broken Strings
“A little more vermouth,” she murmured to herself, reaching for the bottle. “Maybe a hint of elderflower.”
The tinkle of ice cubes against glass was a soothing melody, reminding her of busy nights in her Atlanta kitchen. For a moment, a pang of nostalgia threatened to overtake her, but she pushed it aside. This was her bar now, her creation. She was determined to make it shine. And she hoped that, in time, this experience would become as fulfilling as her time at the restaurant in Atlanta had been.
As she raised the glass to her lips for a taste, her phone buzzed insistently on the polished wood counter. Aubrey’s heart leaped at the sight of her mother’s smiling face on the screen. She quickly wiped her hands on a nearby towel and answered the call, a genuine smile blooming across her face.
“Mom!” she exclaimed, propping the phone up against the liquor bottles. “How are things?”
As her mom launched into a story about their neighbor’s unruly dog, Aubrey found herself drinking in the familiar cadence of her voice, the crinkles around her mother’s eyes.
Aubrey’s mother leaned closer to the screen, her eyes twinkling with unmistakable curiosity. “So, honey, how is Gunner? Is he treating my girl right?”
A laugh bubbled up from Aubrey’s chest. She glanced at him helping the band get the instruments ready. “Gunner is great, and yes, he treats me very well.”
“Oh, sweetie,” her mother cooed, “you look happy. Happier than I’ve seen you in a long time.”
Aubrey’s heart swelled. “I am, Mom. I really am.”
As she told her mom about her latest adventures with Gunner over the last week, she felt a surge of excitement. “Soon, you’ll finally get to meet him.” She was coming to town for Charly’s wedding—only a few months away now. “I’d love for you to see the bar, meet Gunner, experience Timber Falls for yourself.”
“I cannot wait,” her mother said, her voice warm with affection. “Well, honey, I’m just thrilled to see you so happy. This Gunner sounds like a real catch. I can’t wait to meet him and see this beautiful town you’re calling home now.”
Aubrey felt a lump form in her throat. “Thanks, Mom. That means a lot.”
“You deserve it, sweetie,” her mother added softly. “After everything you’ve been through, this is wonderful.”
Aubrey nodded, blinking back tears. “I love you.” She looked up to see Gunner waving her over to the stage. “Sorry, I need to get going.”
“Okay, my sweetie, love you,” her mother said.
Ending the call, Aubrey took a deep breath. She tucked her phone away, her gaze sweeping across The Naked Moose until it landed on Gunner, chatting animatedly with the band near the small stage.
Her heart did a little flip as she watched him, all easy charm and rugged good looks. Grabbing a mug, she filled it with steaming black coffee and made her way over.
“Thought you might need a pick-me-up,” she said, holding out the mug.
Gunner turned, his eyes lighting up. “You’re a lifesaver,” he drawled, reaching for the coffee.
Their fingers brushed as she handed it over, sending a jolt of electricity through her. Gunner’s lips quirked up in a knowing smile, and Aubrey felt heat rise to her cheeks. The heat had never quit between them over the weeks that had gone by. Somehow it only seemed to be growing hotter.
“Aubrey,” he said, turning slightly, “I’d like you to meet an old friend, Jessie. We toured together a few years back.”
The woman beside Gunner, all wild curls and smoky eyes, flashed a warm smile. “So, you’re the famous Aubrey,” she said, her voice rich and husky. “Gunner here hasn’t stopped singing your praises since I arrived.”
Aubrey raised an eyebrow at Gunner, who looked slightly sheepish. “Is that so?” she teased.
“What can I say?” Gunner shrugged, and she thought she heard a hint of pride in his voice. “When you find someone special, you want the whole world to know.”
“Such a charmer,” Aubrey grinned.
Gunner winked. “Always.”
Jessie laughed, shaking her head at them. “How ’bout we get started.”
“Please,” Aubrey said, taking a seat next to Gunner at the small table.
The band took their positions on the small stage, instruments gleaming under the soft lighting. Jessie stepped up to the microphone, her presence commanding attention even before she uttered a single note.
As the first chords rang out, Aubrey felt the air in the room shift, charged with an electric anticipation. Jessie’s powerful gravelly voice filled the space, raw emotion pouring from her lips as she belted out a soulful country ballad.
