Page 67 of One Bride for Three Single Dads

“Just trying to share the wealth,” I smile.

Whipping the towel back over his shoulder, he grabs a wet glass off the rail and swabs it thoughtfully as he looks me up and down. He’s probably three inches taller than me. A really big guy. I wouldn’t be surprised if he was a tradesman of some kind.

Finally, I guess he has his fill, because he places the glass on the shelf and leans his weight against the bar. He shrugs.

“Actually, Tommy’s crew is on the other side of the bar there. You see them? Watching the football?”

I glance around him, noticing four large-bodied men on the opposite leg of the bar where it curves around to the far wall. They could be Americans. We all pretty much look the same. Thick shoulders, thick necks. Good farm boys, by the look of them.

“I see them,” I confirm.

“I can ask them if you like,” he offers slowly. “Make an introduction, like. They’re a good crew. I can vouch for them.”

I don’t entirely love the way this conversation went, but what can I do? I need the help, and I need it to start pretty much tomorrow.

“Yes, I’d appreciate that,” I swallow.

He seems satisfied with his victory. He hands me back my credit card and I return to the table, happy to get that little rush of pleasure that seeing Jolene always brings me.

“Isn’t this place amazing?” she breathes as I take my place on the barstool.

“That rule is a little sexist, don’t you think?” I ask.

“Charming!” she declares, rolling her eyes. “Absolutely charming! And that accent… Wow. I just love it.”

Boone shifts uncomfortably in his seat. I don’t think she notices, but I do.

Look who is getting attached!

“Is the beer good?” I ask, sniffing at the dark surface of the liquid. It almost looks like hot chocolate.

“I was gonna mention that,” Boone says in a low murmur, leaning forward. “Maybe their cooler is on the fritz? It’s warm.”

“I think it’s supposed to be like that,” I smile.

To demonstrate, I take a big sip of it, suppressing my urge to spit it back into the glass because damn, that really is warm.

Like, thick and dark and lukewarm. This is how they drink their beer.

Okay.

But I’m determined not to show any kind of dissatisfaction or discomfort whatsoever. In fact, if I broke my ankle right now? I would walk on that damn thing until my foot fell off.

That is how determined I am.

We are going to have a goddamn good time, if it kills all of us.

Chapter 28

JOLENE

Iguess I am not sophisticated or whatever. Like, this is the first time I have ever been out of Tennessee. In fact, I’ve only been out of the Chattanooga area maybe a dozen times, ever.

But you know what? I am not afraid to say it.

Warm beer is gross.

Wine? I can see it. Whiskey, sure.

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