Page 48 of Pour Decisions
“Do I have to wear this?” I’d have this photo as my phone lock screen any day of the week, but wearing it is a different story. My shirts range in color from black to light gray, with one or two light blue dress shirts in there—not violently blue with my dog looking like he’s had one thought per quarter on the front.
“Yep! To show you’re part of the Stryker Liquor team.” Mom smiles and pats me on the shoulder. “Go change and find your brothers for Bubba’s photo shoot. I might see you around later, but I’ll probably be tied up in the adoption trailer all day.”
Thank god. Even if Kat and I are keeping it platonic on the surface, running into Mom when we’re so new and fragile is a loop we don’t need.
I sigh and quickly change. Bubba wags his tail as he looks at me, like he knows I’ve given in.
“You don’t care that you look ridiculous on this shirt? You aren’t at all embarrassed?” I ask him. He looks at me, his head tilted to the side. “Never mind. You don’t get embarrassed, do you?”
I pat my leg for Bubba to follow me, and I go find my brothers. They’re not hard to spot—they’re in the same blue t-shirt as I’m wearing, standing with their dogs on leashes. Duke, Waylon’s husky/lab mix, and Murphy, Wes’s pit bull mix, greet Bubba, then me in an excited flurry of wagging tails.
“Bubba is here for his photo shoot,” I say to them.
“Mom got you to wear the shirt?” Waylon asks, his eyebrows shooting up.
“It’s for the event,” I say with a sigh.
“And it’s for the company Instagram,” Wes says, snapping a picture of me with a grin.
The company Instagram has too many photos of me looking unamused, but I don’t care. “Can we get started on this?”
“Fine, be boring,” Wes says.
He guides us over to where shelter volunteers are, and we pose Bubba in front of the event backdrop. I step back and tell Bubba to stay while the photographer takes photos, making odd sounds to get Bubba to focus on him.
I check my phone again—Katrina is already here, but she can’t find me. I text her where I am.
“By the way, what’s with the dog magic show?” I ask Wes.
“Oh yeah.” Wes grins and pulls a small ball from his pocket. “Trust me, they’re going to love it.”
“All the dogs will, or just Murphy?” Murphy is sweet but he’s not the sharpest knife in the drawer. He runs headfirst into their glass sliding door constantly despite Wes installing a dog door so he wouldn’t give himself a concussion every other day.
“All of them. Trust me.”
I spot Katrina way across the field and text her that I see her. She looks up, then at her phone, then spots me. Her grin is so bright we can see it from here, and I can’t help but smile a little back.
“Is that the woman you brought back to your place the other week?” Wes asks, a glint of mischief in his eyes.
I try to play it cool even though a twinge of panic pops up in the back of my head. “What are you talking about?”
“Jasper’s cousin works in that fancy restaurant downtown and saw you two together a week ago,” Wes says. “You were following her to her car when his cousin was on a smoke break.”
Jasper is one of our bartenders. I didn’t expect him to be a gossip, but since when did anything stay a secret in this town? At least this cousin of his didn’t see what else happened.
At least Wes doesn’t remember what Katrina looks like. He was pretty self-absorbed back then and probably didn’t notice or care that we were dating at all. Or maybe Jasper just left those details out of his report.
“We’re just friends,” I say.
“Friends. Right. You totally smile at women who are just friends.” Wes smirks. Thankfully Murphy gets distracted and starts eating something out of the grass. “Drop it, Murph.”
I take the opportunity to slip out of the conversation, watching the photographer take a few more photos of Bubba.
I faintly hear Wes say, “Where did you find an egg? Is it hardboiled?” to Murphy as Kat comes closer.
“Hey,” Katrina says once she’s close to me. She goes on her tiptoes for a second—for a kiss—but she stops herself and hands me a can of moonshine margarita instead.
“Thanks. Coworkers nearby?” I take a sip of my drink.
