become? Is this why her grandmother had sent her away?
She cleared her throat and tried to save face. “Sorry. Forget about Jamaica and the Lexus.”
“Whew, weight off my mind.”
“The spa might still be a good idea, though.”
He paused at the door.
“Just kidding, Ranger,” she said, nudging him. “And the first round’s on me.” She could forgo lunch for the next three days. “But I’m not singing.”
She walked ahead through the door, and Ethan followed. Behind her, she heard him mutter, “We’ll see.”
The joint was nearly full. Someone was on the small stage singing “Purple Haze” by Jimi Hendrix.
They made their way to the bar. The bartender reached over to shake Ethan’s hand. As the music died down, she heard the bartender say, “Hey man, I’m waiting on that next batch. When will it be ready?”
He pulled up two dark bottles from under the counter, knocked the caps off, and handed them over.
“Soon,” Ethan said. “Another week.”
Taffy pulled out her wallet and fished around for her remaining dollars.
“Put that away, Sweetheart. It’s on the house.”
Taffy looked up at the bartender and then at Ethan, who grinned down at her, as if he’d known that was going to happen. He then led the way to one of the few remaining empty tables.
“You weren’t going to let me buy, were you?”
“Not a chance.” He grinned.
“So what’s that about a ‘batch’?” said Taffy. “Are you the local drug dealer, too?”
He laughed. “Nope. Though I do run a kind of grow op.”
Taffy raised an eyebrow.
“I grow hops. I co-own a very small microbrewery, though we’re not making any profits yet.”
“Seriously? I’m going to run out of fingers keeping track of all that you do.”
He raised his beer to her and winked. “I like the idea of keeping your fingers busy.”
Taffy felt herself blush just as Ethan’s attention was drawn to the stage, where a woman with dark wavy hair was launching into a rendition of Aretha Franklin’s “Respect.” She had a strong smooth voice and powerful allure.
“Do I know her?” said Taffy.
Ethan raised an eyebrow. “You don’t recognize your nemesis?”
Taffy looked more closely. “It’s not!”
Out of uniform and with her hair down, she looked like a different person.
As Maria Salinas belted out the chorus, she seemed to be singing directly to Ethan. He whistled encouragingly.
For a split second, Taffy felt like a third wheel. She swilled back her beer. Ethan had said they only had to stay for one. She was determined to cash in on that promise, until, unasked, the bartender delivered two more beers to their table. Taffy finished her first and started sipping her second.
It had been a long time since she’d felt the stinging prick of jealously, made all the more uncomfortable by the fact that she had no claim on Ethan, regardless of his seeming flirtations. To make matters worse, when the song ended, he waved Maria Salinas over to their table.
“You two should get to know each other.”
“Why? She hates me.”
“She doesn’t hate you.”
“Just wait,” Taffy muttered.
Ethan stood and gave casual introductions. He waved to the bartender, Ted, who brought over a fresh soda for Maria. Taffy ordered a shot of tequila.
“I hear you’re running Taffy a bit hard,” Ethan said to Maria.
She narrowed her eyes at Taffy but didn’t lose her smile. “I think she can handle it.”
Taffy didn’t like the way Maria looked at her, as if she knew something Taffy didn’t. Her arrogance was annoying.
Ted delivered the shot, and Taffy swallowed it up. Her eyes burned a little as the cool fire slid down.
“Taffy’s moved in to Janet Harken’s place,” said Ethan.
“I’m aware of that.” Maria glanced at Taffy. “Any ghostly sightings? Most people would be too freaked out to live in a house where someone died so recently.”
Taffy blinked and clenched her teeth to retain her composure, because Maria had hit a sore
She cleared her throat and tried to save face. “Sorry. Forget about Jamaica and the Lexus.”
“Whew, weight off my mind.”
“The spa might still be a good idea, though.”
He paused at the door.
“Just kidding, Ranger,” she said, nudging him. “And the first round’s on me.” She could forgo lunch for the next three days. “But I’m not singing.”
She walked ahead through the door, and Ethan followed. Behind her, she heard him mutter, “We’ll see.”
The joint was nearly full. Someone was on the small stage singing “Purple Haze” by Jimi Hendrix.
They made their way to the bar. The bartender reached over to shake Ethan’s hand. As the music died down, she heard the bartender say, “Hey man, I’m waiting on that next batch. When will it be ready?”
He pulled up two dark bottles from under the counter, knocked the caps off, and handed them over.
“Soon,” Ethan said. “Another week.”
Taffy pulled out her wallet and fished around for her remaining dollars.
“Put that away, Sweetheart. It’s on the house.”
Taffy looked up at the bartender and then at Ethan, who grinned down at her, as if he’d known that was going to happen. He then led the way to one of the few remaining empty tables.
“You weren’t going to let me buy, were you?”
“Not a chance.” He grinned.
“So what’s that about a ‘batch’?” said Taffy. “Are you the local drug dealer, too?”
He laughed. “Nope. Though I do run a kind of grow op.”
Taffy raised an eyebrow.
“I grow hops. I co-own a very small microbrewery, though we’re not making any profits yet.”
“Seriously? I’m going to run out of fingers keeping track of all that you do.”
He raised his beer to her and winked. “I like the idea of keeping your fingers busy.”
Taffy felt herself blush just as Ethan’s attention was drawn to the stage, where a woman with dark wavy hair was launching into a rendition of Aretha Franklin’s “Respect.” She had a strong smooth voice and powerful allure.
“Do I know her?” said Taffy.
Ethan raised an eyebrow. “You don’t recognize your nemesis?”
Taffy looked more closely. “It’s not!”
Out of uniform and with her hair down, she looked like a different person.
As Maria Salinas belted out the chorus, she seemed to be singing directly to Ethan. He whistled encouragingly.
For a split second, Taffy felt like a third wheel. She swilled back her beer. Ethan had said they only had to stay for one. She was determined to cash in on that promise, until, unasked, the bartender delivered two more beers to their table. Taffy finished her first and started sipping her second.
It had been a long time since she’d felt the stinging prick of jealously, made all the more uncomfortable by the fact that she had no claim on Ethan, regardless of his seeming flirtations. To make matters worse, when the song ended, he waved Maria Salinas over to their table.
“You two should get to know each other.”
“Why? She hates me.”
“She doesn’t hate you.”
“Just wait,” Taffy muttered.
Ethan stood and gave casual introductions. He waved to the bartender, Ted, who brought over a fresh soda for Maria. Taffy ordered a shot of tequila.
“I hear you’re running Taffy a bit hard,” Ethan said to Maria.
She narrowed her eyes at Taffy but didn’t lose her smile. “I think she can handle it.”
Taffy didn’t like the way Maria looked at her, as if she knew something Taffy didn’t. Her arrogance was annoying.
Ted delivered the shot, and Taffy swallowed it up. Her eyes burned a little as the cool fire slid down.
“Taffy’s moved in to Janet Harken’s place,” said Ethan.
“I’m aware of that.” Maria glanced at Taffy. “Any ghostly sightings? Most people would be too freaked out to live in a house where someone died so recently.”
Taffy blinked and clenched her teeth to retain her composure, because Maria had hit a sore
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