Page 6 of The Hearts We've Broken
“I’ll think about it.” I finally decided to give them asort of nonanswer, and it seemed to get the two of them off my back for now.
“Well, if you change your mind, you know where to find us, Junie.” Nico flashed me a crooked grin as he walked back to the end of the bar.
I let out an amused sigh then went back to wiping down the bar.
Tonight wasn’t slow, but it wasn’t packed, either. There weren’t a ton of bars in town, but Rudy’s was more popular with the older folk. Rudy had tasked us with coming up with theme nights to get more of the college students to come in, and we planned to announce our first soon.
Apparently, though, there was a group of men—cowboys—in their mid- to late-twenties who frequently came into the bar. They didn’t live in town, but they lived close, in a little community called Silver Creek.
Liv told me about them on my second day of work.
“They’re pretty cute. I know two of them aren’t single anymore, but I haven’t seen the others with girls before. Well, except for one of them. But he’s a notorious playboy, so I wouldn’t even dream of going there.” She wrinkled up her nose.
“Don’t you think they’re a little bit old for you, Livvy?” Nico teased her with a laugh.
She immediately blushed and sputtered out, “I’m twenty-one! There’s only a five-year age difference between me and the youngest one!”
We both laughed at her outburst, but she crossed her arms and mocked a pouting face.
“What about you, Junie?” Nico asked.
“What about me, what?”
He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. “Are you on the market for a man?”
“Ew, Nico, never say it like that ever again,” Liv groaned, to which he rolled his eyes and said, “I’m just teasing.”
I just shook my head, still deciding if I was going to answer his question. “No. I’m definitely not interested in dating.”
Before he could respond, Liv spoke up. “Wait, but what about you and?—”
Nico made a face of what seemed to be slight contempt in the middle of her question. Liv gasped, and then they both walked to the back, leaving me amused and by myself at the bar for about an hour.
The bells on the front door jingled, pulling me from the memory, and I lifted my head to see who it was.
Rudy flashed me a bright smile as he sauntered up to the counter. “Juniper, how’s everything been for you so far? Feeling at home here?”
“So far, it’s been going really well. I’m used to the bars I’ve worked in being, er…” I paused for a moment, not wanting to offend him.
The corners of his eyes crinkled. “Busier?”
Heat rushed to my cheeks. “Uh, yeah.” I let out a nervous laugh. “I didn’t mean it in a bad way, I just worked in Goldfinch and you know how those college bars are.”
“Don’t you worry, I know very well what you mean. I had my fair share of rowdy nights as a youngster.” His eyes seemed to glass over, but the expression was gone just as quickly as it appeared. “I’m sure Nicolas and Olivia have filled you in, but we get good business during The Bucking Horse Sale, so it’ll be nice to have you on staff so I don’t have to drag my old ass in here.” He let out a deep, belly laugh, and I couldn’t help but crack a smile.
“I’m happy to help.”
“Well”—he patted the counter a couple times—“I just wanted to check in.” Then he disappeared around the corner, presumably to go to the back office.
The next few hours were slow. Only a few people trickled in and out of the bar, giving Nico and Liv plenty of time to pester me about the bonfire. I gave them the same kind of answer as before, but I had a feeling I’d be hearing about this gathering—and plenty more in the future—if their facial expressions were any indication.
Around nine o’clock, I was in the middle of pouring a whiskey and Coke for one of the regulars when the front doors opened and a group walked in, led by an average-height man with dark-brown hair that curled under the baseball cap that he wore backward and tattoo sleeves covering both his arms. He had a thick mustache, but the rest of his face was fairly clean shaven, with a bit of stubble on his jawline.
“First round’s on me, boys!” his slightly deep, masculine voice rumbled.
I couldn’t pinpoint where I recognized the voice from, but I was sure it would come to me later. Probably didn’t matter in the long-run, but it made me curious all the same.
I slid the drink I had been making to Jim—the regular—and he thanked me, handing me a five-dollar bill. The group of cowboys had already gathered in front of Liv, and she was working on pouring them shots of Pendleton.
