Page 6 of The Coach

I blink, mock-gasping. “Out of limes? On Cinco de Mayo? That feels impossible!”

The bartender laughs, shaking his head. “You’re not wrong. We’ve got the college crowd to thank for that—they cleaned us out an hour ago.”

I wave it off with a grin. “No big deal. I canrawdogit.”

The bartender snorts, but the man, standing next to me, goes completely still for a moment before breaking into a slow, rich laugh. His eyes crinkle at the corners, and he looks at me like I’ve just said the most fascinating thing in the world.

“Rawdog it, eh?”

I flit my eyebrows. “That’s right.”

“Do you...like to rawdog?” he asks, his tone laced with amusement.

I feel my face flush, but I’m quick on the comeback. “Only for tequila,” I say breezily, lifting my shot glass. “And only on very special occasions. Like my future wedding night.”

He cracks up again at my joke—thankfully—and his grin widens as he picks up his glass. “Well, then happy Cinco de Mayo. Torawdogging it. With no lime.”

“Happy Cinco de Mayo,” I echo, clinking my glass against his.

We both knock back the shots, and as the tequila burns its way down, I’m acutely aware of how his gaze lingers on me, sharp and assessing. The bartender slides the beer bottles our way, and I grab mine quickly, needing something to hold onto before my nerves get the best of me.

“So,” he says, leaning just a fraction closer. “You make tequila jokes often, or am I just lucky tonight?”

I laugh, shaking my head. “You’re lucky. I’m usually more sophisticated. Something in the air tonight.”

“Oh really. And if I called you a liar?”

“Guess you’ll never know.” I take a sip of my beer, tilting my head at him. “And you? What brings a guy like you to The Tipsy Cactus? You seem a little overdressed for the occasion.”

He shrugs, his gaze steady on mine. “Let’s just say I took a wrong turn...and ended up in the right place.”

“Okay, come on. What are you doing in Riverbend? No one just randomly comes here. It’s not exactly on the way anywhere.”

“It’s a cool town, though. I quite like it.”

“Uh-huh,” I say, unconvinced. “That’s not an answer. Are you always so vague and mysterious?”

Before he can reply, I catch sight of Lauren across the bar, chatting with some of her local friends. She notices me, and I wave her over. Her face lights up as she excuses herself and walks toward us, clearly curious about the man at my side.

“Well, well,” Lauren says as she approaches, her eyes darting between me and him. “Who’s your new friend?”

“Oh, um...” I start, realizing I don’t actually know his name yet.

He steps in smoothly, extending a hand to Lauren. “I’m Jackson,” he says, his voice warm and confident.

Lauren shakes his hand, her eyebrow quirking. “Nice to meet you, Jackson. I’m Lauren, Ivy’s best friend.”

“Well Lauren, and Ivy,” he repeats, turning back to me with a small, curious smile. “It’s nice to officially meet you. Both of you.”

I feel my cheeks flush slightly, but I manage to hold his gaze. “It’s nice to meet you too. Jackson.”

Lauren crosses her arms, leaning slightly toward me with a playful grin. “Well, Jackson, what brings you to our humble little town? It’s not every day we see a guy in a tux drinking Dos Equis at The Tipsy Cactus on Cherry Street.”

Jackson chuckles, taking a sip of his beer before replying. “It’s not every day you meet two gorgeous small town ladies at a random bar.”

“Uh-huh,” Lauren says, her tone dripping with suspicion. “He’s a charmer. Well, whatever the reason, welcome to Riverbend.”

“Thanks. Are you all always so welcoming, or just with me?”

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