Page 101 of Lemon Crush

She deflated like a balloon, dropping the file on the table as her anger gave way to dawning awareness. “You’re not ready to leaveheryet? Is there something going on between you and my sister, Wade?”

Well hell. I hadn’t wanted her to find out like this. “There is.”

She sat back down without her usual grace, her big eyes wideand a little glazed with what looked like shock. “I have to admit, I wasn’t expecting that. I mean, I didn’t think she was your type or I would have been setting you up withverydifferent women over the years.” She hesitated. “August is another story. You know she had a crush on you when she was younger, right?”

“My sister mentioned something about that.”

“Bernie knows.” She nodded numbly. “How long has this been going on then? And why am I suddenly out of the loop about everything related to August? Does she still hate me for trying to help?”

I shook my head, suddenly exhausted. “She loves you and so do I. What’s between us has nothing to do with you.” Since we were laying our cards on the table, I finally gave voice to what had been bothering me. “You should know that her friend Chick flew in today. He’s invited her to move to San Diego with him after the race. She’s been fixing up her house to put it on the market.”

We’vebeen fixing up her house. Because you are a dumbass.

Instead of more shock, there was resignation in Morgan’s expression. “I think I knew. Ever since Mom died, I had a feeling this was coming. I’m surprised she stayed this long. She probably wouldn’t have if she hadn’t signed a mortgage.”

“And you’re okay with it? Her moving so far away from home again?”

She shook her head. “I’ve never been okay with it, Wade. That’s why I stayed behind as soon as the opportunity presented itself. But August never did. I thought maybe she would when she was old enough, but she kept right on traveling and never complaining about it. The longest she’s stayed at a single address was when she lived with her ex for five years before she moved here. So, I can love her and try to be there if she needs me, but if she’s anything like our mother…” She swallowed hard. “Nothing I do can make her stay.”

It felt like a warning. Like the death knell for my plans. Whatmade me think I was different? That I could do enough and be enough to keep her here, when so many of the other people in my life had no problem walking away?

“I am so fucked.”

Morgan put her hand on my arm, looking more sympathetic than I had any right to expect, but she didn’t tell me I was wrong.

AUGUST

“Can I get a Shiner?”

“On its way.” I slid the metal lid of the bar cooler up to grab the requested beverage and popped open the bottle top with ease. When I set it on the counter and made change, the guy dumped it all in my tip jar with a wink before walking away.

“You’re getting pretty good at that, little lady,” Chick twanged from his stool on the other side of the counter. “Are you sure you don’t have any sarsaparilla hiding in one of those magic coolers?”

“For the last time,” I said with a grin, “this isn’t a saloon, it’s an icehouse. And before you ask me again, I’m not calling you Tex.”

“This job is making you cocky.” He leaned on his forearms and gave me a knowing look. “Or is somethingcockystroking thatego, Mrs. Roper?”

“Why do you have to emphasize everything?” I blushed, glancing around the bar to make sure no one was paying attention. I was enjoying this new position of authority as the keeper of all the beer, but I knew it was temporary. I also knew they’d stop asking for my take on world events and the latest Jelly Roll song to tease me about my love life if we didn’t keep it down.

“We can talk about it later,” I told him meaningfully. “Rightnow, I’d rather know why Tim, aka Pedro, is over there trying to pretend he’s not giving you puppy dog eyes.”

We’d only had a couple of hours to talk before I needed to get ready for my shift, and once I was able to stop hugging the poor man, we’d made the time count. Though he still hadn’t said a word about his wrestler drama, I was already acquainted with his very attractive Lyft driver.

Chick slanted a smug glance toward the end of the bar. “I may have mentioned I was coming here after he dropped me off at your house today. Maybe he’s hoping one of us will need a ride home.”

“He’s hopingyou’llneed a ride. Period.”

It was clearly my lot in life to be surrounded by magnetic people who were almost too good-looking. Chick liked to joke that he was the result of very rich, very attractive people breeding with some of the fairies from my books, because while he only topped out at five-six, he had a James Dean/Kurt Russell vibe about him—perfect jawline, dimpled chin, and a thick head of dirty blond hair in a style that looked like it cost a fortune (Because it did). Tonight, he was wearing a snug white T-shirt, jeans and cowboy boots, an outfit that had clearly never been worn before. He’d said he was trying to blend in, but his fresh-out-of-the-box “western style,” with that face? I’d already caught most of the women and half the men checking him out.

“I’m so glad you’re here.”

“So am I,” he replied patiently for the dozenth time. “Though I was expecting a small-town welcome parade, or the key to the city. I was definitely hoping for people to be square dancing instead of sitting around listening to Tom Petty on the jukebox and munching nachos. I’ve seen a lot of movies, and they all lied about small towns.”

“They always lie. And this isnota small town.”

“But it is. From what I saw on my drive here, this part of Texasis nothing but a series of small towns bordered by strip malls. You just call them suburbs and neighborhoods.”

He wasn’t entirely wrong about that. Or the fact that he’d seen a lot of movies. So had I. We’d each actually seen several of them from the other side of the camera. I always thought it was why we’d clicked the way we did at that book convention ten years ago. We were both latchkey kids of the film industry. Though admittedly, we’d come at the experience fromverydifferent angles.

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