Page 16 of Hand Picked
I laughed lightly to myself and tried to hide it by sipping my drink.
From this close, I could see Luke had a smattering of freckles on his nose, and I felt the most bizarre need to count them. Then he wrinkled his nose and his freckles scattered, so I had to count again. I couldn’t help but notice the way his sweater sleeves were still down over his wrists, like his hands were cold even in this sauna-hot bar.
I couldn’t help but noticehim…
And I realized in a flash that I was so drunk, I was thinking Luke Williams—a dude—was kind of… good-looking. Which was a level of drunk I’d literally never achieved before.
A level of drunk I hadn’t known Icouldachieve.
And I wondered idly if I was going to be more surprised about it in the morning, but in the moment, it just feltgood. Like flirting with the blonde at the bar but better, because I was never going to use a pickup line on the man, and Luke was already acquainted with the complexities of my life and didn’t seem put off.
Hell, hewashalf the complexities of my life.
Maybe it was the Rusty Spikes talking, but being friends with Luke seemed way easier than hating him, and I felt stupid for not realizing it sooner.
In fact, I was having so much fun, I almost didn’t care that my brother had abandoned me. It was, weirdly, exactly what I’d needed but hadn’t known I’d needed that night.
“You,” I proclaimed magnanimously, “are not awful.”
“Oh. Wow.” Luke blinked his attention away from the television. “Thank you?”
“In fact, I like you. I think we should be friends.”
“Really?” His gaze narrowed. “Are you just saying that because I cried? Because that’s gross.”
“No!” I thought about it and admitted, “Okay, maybe a little. But only because it made me realize I was being a jerk. And you’re wrong, you know. I don’t know a soul in town who doesn’t like you. I don’t know why you say they don’t talktoyou, ’cause I can’t get ’em to fucking shut upaboutyou. But that’s neither here nor there. The point is, I was unfair to you. For reasons.”
“What reasons?”
“Well.” I scrunched up my face. The reasons existed. I knew they did. Somewhere at the periphery of my brain. But damned if I could catch the slippery fuckers. “You make my stomach feel—” I made a vague motion to my abdomen.
“Nauseated?” Luke asked, wide-eyed. “Oh my God, is it my cologne? Wait, I don’t wear cologne. Is itme?”
“—and you’re a damn ice cream fiend.”
He blinked. “Oh. Well, no, that’s true,” he admitted sorrowfully. “And that’s… a deal breaker?”
I spread my hands. “I promise, it sounded more convincing in my brain.”
“Ah.” Luke nodded. “Happens to me all the time.”
“So… friends?” I said again.
“Heck yeah! See, good things happen all the time, even when you least expect them!”
Luke’s eyes, already glassy from the alcohol, almostglowedwith excitement, and I had to look away. I couldn’t remember the last time anyone had looked so happy with me for so little effort.
“I still don’t want anything to do with your sheep, though,” I muttered. “Especially if it involves me carrying them over my shoulders.” My back twinged just thinking about it.
“No, no,” he agreed quickly. “Promise. The ladies keep to themselves anyway. But you and I can be… neighbor friends. And maybe Drew can make me pie again.” Luke hesitated. “So do we, like, shake hands now? Because it feels like we need to commemorate this? Or maybe—”
The most random idea occurred to me, and I burst out laughing at how perfect it was. Not only the perfect way to commemorate a new friendship, butalso the perfect way to let the town know—if they really didn’t know already—that Luke Williams was a good, friendship-worthy guy.
“Okay… okay… so Van was telling me this story earlier—Shhhhh.Shhhhh,” I insisted, even thoughIwas the one who kept interrupting myself with bouts of drunken giggles. “Did you ever hear the story of the Unity Bugle?”
Luke shook his head, looking mystified and intrigued.
“So, that bugle on the plaque by the door is the Unity Bugle.” I pointed. “It’s how the bar got its name. And according to Van, it’s like… there was a pretty girl? And sheep, which is fitting. And… other things. A father, maybe? But then there was a preacher who came and brought goodwill. And… I’m honestly not sure how the bugle came into play, but then the spirit of friendship livesinsidethe bugle to this very day, and they lived happily ever after just like in a fairy tale.”
