Page 8 of It Happened in Vegas

I raised an eyebrow. “Careful, Kingston. That almost sounded like flirting.”

Flora interrupted. “Dinner for two done at the same time? You even ordered the same peach pie for dessert. You want to stay and eat together, too?”

Keaton and I exchanged a look.

“Oh no,” I said quickly, holding up a hand. “This is takeout. Strictly solo. I have a date with my laptop and a spreadsheet that refuses to behave.”

“Same,” he muttered. “Tap lists and a temperature gauge that thinks it’s funny to display ten degrees hotter thanks to the summer heat.”

Then, out of nowhere, he tilted his head and said, “Or... we could skip the sad solo dinners. I know a place. Great view.”

My eyebrows shot up. “Are you inviting me out?”

“It’s not a big deal, Sophie. Just a hill on the edge of town with a good view. You’re new here, and it’s one of the top five sights in Holly Creek, according to the tourist bureau’s brochure.”

I feigned shock. “Be still my marketing heart.”

He gave me a look. That one where the corner of his mouth twitched and his eyes went warm for half a second. It was unfair. And ridiculously effective. I was unprepared for this onslaught of Keaton charm.

“You in or not?” he asked.

I should’ve said no. “Lead the way, Kingston.”

The drive was short,winding up a quiet road I hadn’t taken before. At the top of the hill, the world opened up, revealing a carved stone stage and tiered seating nestled into the hillside. As the sun was getting ready to set, the lights twinkled in the valley below, scattered across Holly Creek like someone had flung glitter carelessly across a map.

“Gorgeous view,” I said as I stepped out of my car parked behind his truck, takeout bag in hand.

“It’s where we used to do Shakespeare in the Park.”

“We?” I lifted a brow.

“Yep. Thanks to my high school debate and drama coach. Some of my early thespian work was performed right here. But the coach retired. Now it’s mostly used for proposals and high school make-out sessions. Or for two, uh…colleaguesgrabbing a bite to eat. Follow me.”

We climbed to the top tier and sat on one of the stones. The air was cooler up here; the breeze carrying a hint of pine and whatever wildflowers managed to survive the heat.

We set about eating—a chicken salad for me, and a burger wrap for him—and of course I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to know more about his acting career. Okay, I admit I sort of stalked his social media accounts, infatuated with him since his show first aired, but not once did news of his past interest in acting come up.

“So, you had the acting bug early in school? Is that why Brewed for Love appealed?” I asked.

“I suppose it solved a latent fantasy about becoming an actor.”

“Really? Why aren’t you in New York or L.A. capitalizing on all your recent reality star fame?”

“I lived in New York for a while after high school, attending college there, studying theater. I landed some off-off-Broadway shows, even one off-Broadway. But after just a few years of the hustle and the grind, I came back home for a rest. I got into making beer with my dad, and I guess my interests changed. The dream of building Hops was something in my control; I didn’t have to rely on a producer or director telling me what I was worth. So, I stayed, built something of my own, and here I am. No regrets.”

My mouth dropped, finding this out about him. “Oh, shoot.” A piece of lettuce doused in ranch dressing tumbled off my fork and down the front of my shirt. I hunted through my bag for a napkin, but he passed me one of his instead. Hard to act cooland not fan all over him when he’s just revealed the roots of his acting talent.

“Why not start up a drama group here and put on some plays in the summer?” I asked, in order to draw his interest away from me pawing at the ranch stains.

“It’s on my bucket list. What about you? Tell me something interesting from your past.”

“What?”

The past? Even my best friend, my soul sister Maisy, didn’t know certain things from my past. I laughed nervously. “Tell you what. We’ll play two truths and a lie.”

“Okay. I’m game. And if I win, I’ll show you another of the top five sights to see in Holly Creek the next time we serendipitously meet up at Flora’s for dinner.” His soft lips, framed by dark whiskers, drew into a teasing curve.

“Deal.” I thought for a moment, then proceeded ahead. “Number one. I’m an heiress in hiding. Number two, I haven’t had a decent date with a guy in five years. And number three… I hate board games. Which is the lie?”

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