Page 3 of Make You Mine

Maybe I should talk to Jake. If anyone would understand how I felt, he would. He had loved Tabby, too. But the thought of talking about my feelings was exhausting.

I turned into my driveway and cut the engine. My house was a simple one-story on a street lined with more of the same. Painted beige with blue trim, it was L-shaped and basic. With three bedrooms, two bathrooms, and a big backyard, it was more space than I needed, but the idea of owning a house appealed to me. Maybe I’d get a dog or two to keep me company after I’d settled in.

The only thing wrong with this street was the Victorian eyesore at the end. It wasn’t run down, but it loomed over the street like it was watching it. The stark white paint job and spiky turrets did nothing to hide that it was likely riddled with the ghosts of residents past.

Past me would already be home in bed, getting enough sleep so he could win in court the next day. This version was something I was still figuring out.

Honeybrook Hollow was not known for its nightlife, and the options were limited to one bar. With a turn of the wheel, I drove around the Victorian and was back on the main drag. Businesses lined each side, a couple of restaurants, and a general store. There was a bookstore down at the end that I wanted to check out, but I hadn’t yet found the time. Maybe tomorrow.

I just survived another night of being flirted with and fussed over, I think I fucking deserved a damn beer.

At the end of the road sat the Honeybrook Inn, which is what put this town on the map. It was a tourist favorite amid one of the country’s premier ski destinations. I was not a skier—yet—but the idea of it had promise. Everyone should have a hobby, and I’d spent too many years doing nothing but work.

Slightly outside of town, down a gravel road, was where I was headed. Bubba’s Bar belonged to one of my clients. In fact, I had helped her secure the place during her divorce. Perhaps it was time to check in on her—it was as good an excuse as any, and Paige was always good for a laugh.

My tires crunched through the parking lot. I pulled to a stop beneath the lone light and got out. Shrugging out of my jacket, I tossed it inside the car and slammed the door. I wiped my hands on my slacks, suddenly nervous. When was the last time I had a drink in a bar solely just for fun?

Had I ever?

I realized I hadn’t and almost turned around to get back in my car.

I was almost forty-three years old and had never had a drink in a fucking bar that didn’t involve a business meeting of some kind. Jesus Christ—Jake was right about me—I was a workaholic.

Steeling myself against the nerves threatening to send me into a cold sweat, I looked up and frowned in uncertainty when I caught sight of the bright purple neon glow coming from above the door that spelled out the words Twilight Tavern in swirling script. With a shrug, I pushed open the door and entered.

“It’s my hero!” A cheerful voice called to me from behind the bar. “Come over here. Let me get you a beer.” She patted the bar in front of her. “On the house forever for you, Ren.”

Paige didn’t take no for an answer when it came to being her friend. She was relentless in her pursuit of finding out even the most mundane facts about me. She baked cookies and brought them to all our meetings. She told me all about her kids and her family. But for some reason, it had been easy to talk to her, so I allowed it.

“Twilight Tavern?” I grinned as I greeted Paige, the bar’s now official sole owner and my former client. “I thought this place was called Bubba’s Bar.”

No matter what she chose to call it, it resembled a classic country western bar, with wooden floors and booths in the corners. High-top tables were scattered throughout the space, and an alcove led to a room that housed a pool table. A jukebox blasting old eighties rock stood next to a small stage in the far corner. Neon flashed in the windows, and strands of lights threaded through the beams overhead provided illumination, along with moonlight streaming through the windows and a few strategically placed ceiling fans with dimly glowing bulbs hanging beneath.

“I changed the name.” She glared toward the central part of the bar, where her patrons were studiously avoiding looking directly at her. “And I don’t want to hear another word about it,” she loudly announced to the room. “I love it. It’s what I always wanted to call it. I mean, did you see the sky when you drove up? The mist? The freaking stars? It’s the perfect name.” She crossed her arms over her chest, practically daring me to say something negative. She was a pretty blonde, tall and curvy with sparkling brown eyes and a smile that could get anyone talking—me being a perfect example of that.

“I like it.” I approached and slid onto a barstool. The place was busy, but the vibe felt off.

“What were you up to tonight? You look tense.” Pot, meet kettle. Tension radiated off her in waves. I decided to ignore it and let her make small talk. I could find out what was going on later.

"I just came from a charity dinner in Portland, hoping to raise funds for Lyla’s Place.”

“Ahh, hobnobbing with the rich and snooty.” She scoffed with a sardonic grin. “My ex was real good at that, as you know.”

“Yeah, I did not grow up that way. And I’m sick of hobnobbing. Why can’t people just do good things without having their asses kissed first?”

“Isn’t that the eternal question?” She asked, turning to grab a glass from the shelf behind her. “Why can’t people just lead with kindness? It’s not that fucking hard.”

“I wish I knew,” I muttered as she filled the glass and slid me a beer.

“Thanks.” I took a sip and tried to stop worrying about fitting in. Paige owned the place, and it seemed like she didn’t fit in either.

“Hey! It’s the mysterious Ren.” I squinted into the dim light of the bar, watching as a tall, curvy blonde approached from the restrooms.

It was Piper, Jake’s wife's best friend and Paige’s younger sister. I’d met her a few times over the years but had never found the time to get to know her.

Each time I saw her, her hair looked different. Tonight, it was a pale shade of honey blonde. The long waves shimmered under the lights as she moved. God, she was gorgeous. I’d always thought so.

She wore a simple white T-shirt and jeans. But the way they hugged her curves made it hard not to stare. Her brown eyes were warm, inviting, shimmering with a light that drew me in every time I saw her. It wasn’t just her appearance; it was her entire presence that captivated me. There was something undeniably magnetic about Piper, something that made it hard to look away. I had always been attracted to her, but tonight that feeling was more intense than ever. Shaking my head, I dismissed the thoughts. I hardly knew her.

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