Page 10 of Roommate's Guide to Love

“Did I grow a tail or somethin’?”

She shakes her head as I reach into the beer cooler to pull out two bottles. “I’m just trying to figure out who’s going to be the woman who finally breaks Porter McCoy.”

Now this makes me laugh. “I’m pretty sure she doesn’t exist, Em. Want me to start you a tab?”

She lets out a little huff and puts her credit card down on the bar. “Sure. But I want you to know, if you’re ever ready… If that big house next door is feeling a little lonely, you know where to find me.”

“See ya later, Emily.”

She thinks she did something there as she tosses me a wink before she turns away. I’m pretty sure a wink isn’t supposed to send a cold shiver down your spine, but that’s what it does when it comes from her.

“Is she ever going to stop? I think my dick just shriveled up in sympathy for you.”

I chuckle at the words from my cousin, Wes Taylor, who’s now standing at the bar with his wife Betsy. I reach across to shake his hand, which ends up being pulled into a bro hug. I also lean over to give Betsy a kiss on the cheek.

“Unfortunately, I’m used to her. Dangers of the job.” I look out to the crowded bar to see if the table that Wes and his crew usually sit at is open, but it isn’t. “Sorry, man. If I would’ve known you were coming, I would’ve reserved your table.”

He shakes his head. “No need. Just the two of us tonight. A little date night, if you will.”

“Married and still going on dates,” I say, pouring them their usual drinks. “Aren’t you two just adorable.”

“Damn right we’re still going on dates,” Betsy says. “I love those kids more than anything, but they’re exhausting.”

“But, they all had plans of their own—when you don’t need to pay a babysitter, you take full advantage.”

“Cheers to that,” I say as I hand them their drinks. Not that I’d know the first thing about the daily dealing of children. But I can assume it’s hell in a hand basket.

“You know, though, Emily did ask a good question.”

I lift my eyebrow to Betsy, because I know where this is going. “Don’t start.”

“What?” she says in mock innocence. “I’m just saying that when you’re one of the most eligible bachelors in Rolling Hills, the people want to know when Porter McCoy will go off the market.”

I shake my head at my cousin-in-law and start making drinks for a few regulars that I can see need another. “How about this? When I find her, you’ll be the first to know.”

Betsy slightly rolls her eyes at my response. “Fine. I guess I’ll accept that. Maybe you can throw in some mozzarella sticks to make the deal binding?”

I laugh and shake my head. “Mozzarella sticks for you to stop hounding me? Say less.”

I don’t know why the state of my love life—or lack thereof—seems to be the hot topic of conversation tonight. People know my situation. Hell, I’ve known most of these people since kindergarten. They’ve never seen me with a woman for more than a few dates. They sure as hell have no idea about the woman I’ve been sleeping with for eight years. So according to them, I’m Porter McCoy, bachelor extraordinaire. And that’s just how I like it.

Plus, they also know my family history, which means they know I have my reasons for not wanting a wife or family.

My family in town is sparse—just Wes and his parents. Pops died eight years ago. Mom took off when I was in middle school. I think she still lives in Indiana, but I could be wrong. I haven’t talked to her since I called to tell her about his death. Silly me thought that she had the right to know that the man she was once married to, and had a son with, was dead. And maybe part of me wanted to know that I still had one parent. I know we didn’t talk much, but the thought of losing the man who raised me being gone turned me into a scared kid all over again.

I should’ve known better. After I told her he was dying, she said that she was sorry and hung up. Didn’t come back for the funeral. Didn’t even send a card.

So yeah, she still could be in Indiana with my stepdad and half-sister. Could be in Alaska. Hell, she could also be dead. I have no clue.

But it is what it is. I learned a long time ago that family isn’t always blood; sometimes it’s the family you choose. Or in my case, the family that chose me. The people who’ve come into this bar faithfully since my dad opened it thirty years ago knew me since I was a straggly kid sitting at the bar doing homework. So yes, I might bitch about them, but they’ve been here for the good times and the bad. They’re the reason my business is still alive and thriving. And why I’m slammed on this Friday night.

I’m running back and forth down the bar, hating that I keep putting off hiring someone else to help me tend the bar. I can normally handle it, but on Fridays it’s been rough. And frankly, it would be nice to have a night off once in a while. But I can’t think about that now. I have a bar three-people deep and there’s no sign of it slowing down.

But as I top off a Long Island iced tea, I happen to catch a glance at the front door. I know most everyone who comes in the bar, but sometimes even friendly faces can take me by surprise. Which is how I feel when I see Maeve Banks walk in the door.

It’s few and far between that The Joint gets a visit from the oldest Banks daughter. Not that she has anything against the bar that she took her first legal drink in-—and the bar she used to steal Smirnoff Ice from when she was a teenager—but now that she lives closer to Nashville with her billionaire husband, we don’t see her as much.

Right behind Maeve are her youngest sisters, Ainsley and Stella. Seeing Stella here isn’t as far-fetched since she works in Rolling Hills with her brother Simon. It’s always shocking to see Ainsley here since I’ve never seen her take a sip of alcohol in her life.

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