Page 7 of It Happened in Vegas

My stomach growled like a beast as I entered Flora’s Diner. I pushed the door open, greeted by the heavenly scent of fried something and baked everything. Inside, the air was warm, humming with conversation and the clatter of dishes.

This was the kind of place that made you nostalgic for a small-town life.

I doubted Keaton could tell that I’d once been a small town girl from Pennsylvania. Back when my parents were still together, when I was young—before Mom and I left my father, being the abuser that he was. After the divorce, she’d made her way to New York, with me in tow, hoping to make it big in the field of graphic design. Times were tight for a single mother in the city, and as much as she tried to hide it, I knew there were nights where she gave up her dinner for me.

About the only thing I recall of those years before she met my stepfather was how often she promised me things wouldn’t always be so tough.

I hadn’t thought about those nights in a long time. But sitting here now, in a town where people knew your name and offered you a comforting place, hit me harder than expected.

I smoothed my pale blue linen top over my denim cutoffs, and tried to remember if I’d run a brush through my hair before leaving the guest house. Not that it mattered. This was a quick in-and-out, grab my dinner and pie and go. Of course, that’s assuming I could get away without Flora dragging me into conversation.

“Evening, honey,” Flora called from the counter. She looked great, like a grandma, but with just enough sass to run a biker gang out of town. I’d met her years prior, on freshman move-in day, when she brought Maisy to Columbia. As roommates go, I got lucky; Maisy became my best friend. And Flora was the motherly figure I needed right then, while mine was jetting off around the world with husband number three. “Your order’s just about ready. Sit here.”

I did as she asked and before I knew it, she’d put a diet cola and a cookie in front of me while I waited.

“Chelsea told me you were staying in town for a while. I’m so glad to see you, dear. How is everything?” With a warm smile, she patted my hand.

“Fine. Good to see you, too.”

“She said you’re working with Keaton now? Oh, he’s such aniceman.”

“He is.” And if I didn’t know better, I’d say she was a fan of his too, judging by her dreamy eyes. That was the thing about Keaton with all his guy next door brooding brewer charm. Easy on the eyes. Easy to like. He’d never have made it on the TV show as a villain. He was the good guy from the start—and captured the hearts of women across the nation who fell for his golden retriever personality across a dozen episodes.

“Did you see Maisy’s latest photo drop? She’s gotten so tan. Island life must be paradise. I miss her.” I could forgive her for leaving without me only because she was finally with the love of her life—Brooks. And that made me happy. They weregoodtogether and meant to be. I had no idea if I’d ever find a love like theirs, but I’d be just as happy to sit on the sidelines and cheer them on for life.

“Me, too. I’ve been worried sick she’s never coming back, but then last night she called. They’re sailing and will be in town in July. And…” She wiggled her eyebrows. “She says they have news.”

“Oh, wonder what it is?” Maisy hadn’t sent me a message yet about any of that, but the minute she was back in town, I’d hopefully get a girls’ night with her to catch up.

“I suspect it’s one of two things. Either he proposed or she’s with child. Both would make me happy. Then my girls would at least be settled. Colt, however, is another matter entirely.” She sighed, her worry lines deepening. Having been around the Calhoun family enough over the years, I knew the depth of their family love.

A far,farcry from my own family.

“Have you heard anything from Colt? I know the two of you are friends,” she inquired. And yes, we had been friendly before he entered the Navy. Anymore though, all we did was trade funny memes by email.

“I’m sure he’ll be fine when he gets back home, Flora.” What else could I possibly say to help leave her fears behind?

“Order’s up,” the cook called out behind her, and she left me there to peruse her daily dozen list of pies available. The woman knew how to make a mouth water with her baking.

“Here we go.” She set two bags on the counter, and I grabbed the one for me with my name across it.

“Thanks, Flora. We’ll talk more soon.” I waved and turned—and almost rammed right into Keaton’s chest.

“Oh, hi.” My breath caught and my hand landed on his pec. The muscle flexed and reacted to my touch, where a thousand jolts of electricity ignited. He wore a black t-shirt with the old Hops logo that clung just enough to his body to suggest he’d lifted a million kegs today. His hair was tousled like he’d run a hand through it fifty times. And don’t get me started on his eyes penetrating into me.

“Imagine seeing you here,” he replied, eyes scanning my face down to my lips in a way that felt entirely unprofessional.

“You’re stalking me now, Keaton?” I teased, enjoying the warmth of our contact a little too much.

“Obviously. You’re hard to miss in this town.”

Flora cleared her throat. “Your order is here.”

He chuckled, low and rough, and stepped to the side to grab the bag. “Picking up dinner, too?” he asked.

“Yep. Long day.” I shrugged. “You know, rebranding your empire, setting up marketing campaigns, and making your dreams come true. The usual.”

“You make it sound so easy. I’m glad to have an expert like you on the case.”

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