Chapter Two

Now…

A two-hundred-and-sixty-pound, six-foot-three bouncer sobbing like a baby was an unexpected sight.

Trent sighed as he beep-beeped his Jeep in his reserved parking stall and walked toward the entrance to his bar, Trent’s Tavern, that evening.

“I told you, you can’t work here if you’re using,” he told Max, his former bodybuilder competitor turned friend and employee, as the man stood outside, waiting for Trent to unlock the door. Weepiness could be an unfortunate and unpleasant side effect of steroid use.

Max wiped his eyes with the back of his tattooed arm and sniffed. “Nah, man. I’m clean. My sister in New York just sent a video of my niece playing with her new rescue kitten. Wanna see?” Max extended the phone toward him.

Trent shook his head. “And have two burly men sobbing like babies in front of the club? No.” He laughed as he unlocked the door, and then they entered the bar.

“I thought Angel was opening tonight. Didn’t you and Whitney have plans to look at wedding rings?” Max asked, tucking his cell phone into a pocket on his military-looking black cargo pants.

Trent’s jaw twitched as he tried to make light of his fiancée canceling on him again. “She had to work late.” And wedding ring shopping could wait. Just like decisions on wedding dates, venues, flowers, cake…

“I thought you were ambitious, but that beauty of yours never seems to stop,” Max said.

It was true, and while Trent knew Max meant it as a compliment, Whitney’s demanding work schedule was putting a strain on her health and their relationship. But he’d never admit that to his friend. Any issues he and Whitney may be having were private, and they’d work through them together. As a team. He was confident that they’d just hit a bit of a rough patch this year. Things would get better.

He flicked on the interior lights, and his eyes widened as he scanned the place.

Angel, his club manager, had been busy, too.

Overnight, his tavern had completely transformed. Lacy, gauzelike black fabric draped across the open wood beams. Orange pumpkin-shaped string lights hung from every corner of the ceiling. Old-fashioned-looking black-and-white photos hung on the walls, the creepy, hollow eyes following him as he moved, the faces turning into skulls based on the angle at which he stood. A large animatronic vampire butler moved as he approached, bending to “offer” him a drink that looked like blood. Near the pool tables, a jumping spider sat waiting to terrorize unsuspecting victims. Everywhere he looked, there was a Halloween decoration to be discovered. “The place looks amazing.”

“All Angel.” Max confirmed he’d had nothing to do with the decorating.

“Where did she get all this stuff?” he asked Max. He hadn’t noticed any large, unapproved charges on the company credit card he’d given her for ordering supplies and inventory.

“Said she had it all in storage from her move. Apparently, she used to decorate her house in L.A. every year for an annual Halloween party her husband would throw for industry VIPs. Her apartment is too small to use any of it, so she brought it here.”

Angel had recently moved to Blue Moon Bay with her two teenage boys after a messy divorce with some famous director Trent had never heard of. And didn’t want to know. Angel hadn’t exactly opened up about the relationship, but he could read between the lines. Just the fact that the guy had left Angel and the kids high and dry, refusing to pay alimony and child support unless she took him to court, was enough for Trent to know.

But Angel was landing on her feet, and she was the best manager he’d ever had. Made even more obvious by the decor inside the club. Left to him, there might have been a pumpkin or two outside. She definitely deserved a raise.

Trent headed toward the bar and checked the supplies. They opened in an hour, and he suspected the place would be busy. This time of year, as the weather turned cooler along the coast, indoor dining and entertainment schedules resumed. His bar was known for good food and local entertainment. With two locations currently doing well, he hoped to expand even farther along the coast.

Of course, everything was refilled, restocked, and ready to go. He could always count on Angel.

“Hey, aren’t you headed to the Bartenders Convention tomorrow morning in Las Vegas?” Max asked, removing his jacket and hanging it on a hook in the back room. Underneath, he wore the Trent’s Tavern logo T-shirt staff were required to wear, but the logo was barely readable as it was stretched unrecognizable in the too-small, tight-fitting shirt. In Max’s defense, getting one to actually fit the man would be a challenge. Trent would have to place a custom order, like he did for his own shirts.

“I canceled the trip,” he said. “I have a lot going on here…” The last time he was away, just before Christmas the year before, Whitney had had a car accident. It was silly, but he couldn’t help but feel nervous about leaving her alone. That somehow, he could keep her safe if he was there. She worked too much, too hard, and had apparently fallen asleep at the wheel. It was a miracle she’d survived the crash in her tiny two-seater soft-top convertible. Trent shivered just remembering the pictures of the crunched yellow metal at the scene of the accident.

Of course, Whitney would never admit to the stress she was still under, despite doctors’ orders to slow the pace a little, but he could see it in her tired eyes and sudden weight loss from lack of eating. Confronting her about it only made her withdrawn and even more stressed, so he’d learned not to nag her, despite his major concerns. At least when he was there, he could make sure she got some sleep at night and force-feed her while she worked if necessary.

Unfortunately, lately, it almost seemed like she preferred when he was away. As though she could breathe easier when he wasn’t around to keep an eye on her. He knew part of it was that she knew he was always on the verge of a relationship chat. He didn’t want to put pressure on her about the wedding she refused to plan, but they’d been engaged for three years, together for seven, and he wanted to move on to other future plans.

That was his main motivation to expand. Maybe if his bar chain was financially lucrative enough, Whitney wouldn’t feel like she had to work so much. He could help take the pressure off her. She worried about finances and being able to take care of her mother in the seniors’ medical facility, but Trent was more than willing to take on that financial responsibility. If she’d stop being so stubborn and let him. Since moving her mother into Rejuvenation, Whitney wouldn’t even entertain the conversation of him helping with those costs.

Seven years together and they still had separate bank accounts.

It was something he’d like to change. Something he’d hoped would change once they were married. Maybe she’d feel more comfortable blending that aspect of their lives then. At least he hoped.

“I could go to the conference,” Max said, surprising him.

“Really?” He hadn’t thought of sending someone in his place. Max had only been working there a few months. He hadn’t thought the guy was actually going to stick around when he’d first approached Trent about the bouncer job. He’d thought Max was just passing through and needed a few shifts for gas money, but it had been two months now, and Max hadn’t expressed any plans to leave just yet.

“Sure. Why not?” he said as he poured a glass of diet soda and took a sip. “I can attend all the seminars and sessions and report back.”

“You’re interested in bartending?”

Max shrugged. “Honestly, I’m not sure what I’m interested in, besides bodybuilding, but you know that lifestyle has a time limit.”

He did. Always athletic from a young age and becoming addicted to working out as a teen, Trent had competed in bodybuilding competitions into his late twenties, but he knew it was too much of a strain on his health to go beyond that. He’d spent his competition money on this first Trent’s Tavern location seven years ago and had worked his butt off to open the other location. The first two years in business had been the hardest. Never one to be book smart, he’d struggled to complete a business management course online, an accounting course after that, and then bartending and bar management courses whenever he could. He could now run every aspect of his business himself, and that gave him peace of mind and confidence.

But having other staff who were also knowledgeable made sense. If he planned to keep expanding, he’d need help and people he could rely on. Angel was a great addition to the team, but if Max was serious about sticking around and becoming a bartender, he’d do his best to encourage and facilitate his buddy’s transition into a different career as well.

Trent nodded. “Yeah, you know, that’s actually a good idea.” The conference tickets he’d bought a year in advance before the popular event sold out were nonrefundable. Now they wouldn’t go to waste.

Max cleared his throat. “Maybe Angel should come, too…”

Ah, so the guy did have his eye on the single mom. Trent had suspected there was more to Max’s eagerness for extra shifts, and he saw the two of them laughing and flirting sometimes as they worked. But Trent knew Angel was still processing and adjusting to her new life, and she had her hands full with her teens. She didn’t strike him as being quite ready for a new relationship yet, and there had certainly been enough male attention focused her way.

Trent felt a protectiveness over her, as if she were one of his sisters, so he pointed a finger at Max. “Be careful there. She’s not ready for you yet,” he said with a grin but also a warning tone.

Max held his hands up. “Don’t worry about me, man. I’m just saying if she needs a rebound, I’m up for being used.”

Trent laughed. He’d once thought of himself as just the rebound guy, the casual fling guy, the no-strings-attached guy, too. But that was before he’d met Whitney…

…

Then…

Not only had Jess introduced him to the most beautiful, smart, funny, and caring woman Trent had ever met, but she’d also helped him make a valuable business connection. As head of marketing and tourism for Blue Moon Bay, Whitney was the perfect person to ask for help with the promo for the tavern’s grand opening event.

Having the excuse to spend time with her again had taken the pressure off actually inviting her out on a real date after the pumpkin patch group outing the week before.

But he was doing a miserable job trying to hide his intentions—he couldn’t even take his eyes off her as she toured the newly renovated bar. Dressed in a slim-fitting, professional business suit, her long blond hair pulled away from her face in a low ponytail, three-inch heels echoing on the wooden bar floor, she was absolutely intimidating.

She was so far out of his league, but the week before at the pumpkin patch, they’d seemed to hit it off. He hadn’t exactly made the best of impressions earlier that day when she’d walked in on him naked, but he thought he’d redeemed himself by carrying the heaviest pumpkin she could find and had to have all around the farm the entire evening, so that no one else could steal it. His arms still ached, but seeing her laugh whenever she’d look at him, trying to seem unfazed by the eighty-pound, awkwardly shaped gourd in his arms had been worth it.

He’d yet to debrief with Jess to see if Whitney had said anything about him, but he was dying to know if he even had a shot. She was one of those women who would make a man give anything for just another minute of her time. Right now, he had her attention, and he hoped she liked the renovations and changes he’d made to the old bar.

He waited, watching her expression as she scanned the interior. When she smiled, he released a sigh of relief.

“Good?”

She nodded. “More than good. It’s amazing. Hard to believe it’s the same bar.”

Her praise meant so much, and he barely knew her. He sensed she was the type who would give it to him straight, so her opinion mattered. His mom and sisters were just so happy and proud that he was back in town and on this new life path that it was hard to discern if they were being completely honest when they claimed the bar looked great, or if their judgment was clouded by love. Either way, he valued their support.

“I can’t believe you left the old jukebox,” Whitney said. Clipboard in hand, she made notes of the things she wanted to mention in the grand opening event flyer and added the jukebox to the list.

“Are you kidding? It was the best part. I don’t think the previous owners knew what they had in this old classic beauty. I certainly didn’t tell them,” he said with a laugh. The Rock-Ola 1414 President was from the 1940s and valued at $50,000. Trent couldn’t believe the previous owners had included it with the sale price.

Whitney gently touched the machine, her hand stroking the smooth finish, and Trent had never been so jealous of an inanimate object. “Does it still work?”

He reached into his jeans pocket for a coin and handed it to her. “Give it a try.”

She popped the money in the slot, and the machine lit up. So did her expression in the neon glow, and the tug he felt in his chest told him he was a goner. Before meeting her, he would definitely have classified himself as a one-date-per-woman type of guy. He liked to have fun and spend time with the guys. In his twenties, he’d had no desire to settle down or be in a committed relationship. He hadn’t really felt the shift, but since meeting Whitney, he knew he wasn’t interested in just a casual thing with her. His mother had always warned him that one day he’d meet someone who would completely captivate him heart and soul. She’d been right. And he was utterly terrified that this woman he’d just met held the power to destroy him.

Whitney peered through the glass at the song selections and, settling on one, she keyed in the numbers. The first few beats of an old twangy country song started, and he grinned.

Could the woman be any more perfect?

He started to hum the melody, and she turned to him in surprise. “You like country music?”

“I even know how to two-step.”

Her eyes narrowed. “You’re kidding.”

He extended a hand to her.

She glanced at it, and he held his breath in her momentary hesitation. Did she feel the same connection to him as he did to her? Had the night at the pumpkin patch been something she’d been thinking about all week as well? Was he someone she might be able to see a future with? He hoped so, because all of a sudden, he saw the new future he wanted for himself. In that bar, there with her…everything suddenly fell into place, and everything made sense. He wasn’t freaked out or worried. He had zero doubt in his mind that she was the one for him.

As soon as her hand touched his and he was drawing her closer into his arms, he knew he wanted to hold that hand and hold her in his arms forever.

“I actually don’t know how to two-step,” he confessed. “But maybe we could sway?”

She moved closer and rested her head against his chest. And they swayed.