Fine was good enough, Jo thought, heading back into the bar. Fine was plenty. Fine was safe and allowed her to sleep. If she had much more happiness in her life, she would worry that some balancing force would want to punish her to keep things even. Better to stay safe.
She carefully wrote the happy hour special of the day on the chalkboard and turned on the television. In the lull between lunch and happy hour, she enjoyed quiet. But soon customers would start to arrive, and they enjoyed the various shows.
The front door opened and a man stepped in. Jo recognized Will Falk and didn’t know if she was pleased or annoyed.
“How’s it going?” he asked as he moved toward her, his stride uneven.
“Good.” She set a napkin on the bar. “What can I get you?”
“I came by to see if I could help put the toys together.”
“Already done. We had two kids in at lunch today and they had a great time.”
“I’m glad to hear it.” He slid onto a barstool. “I’ll take a beer. What you have on tap. Want to join me?”
“I don’t drink while I’m working.”
“I’m not that much work.”
She gave him a slight smile. “Sorry, no.”
He was a nice enough guy. Probably decent, the kind of man who enjoyed sports, a home-cooked meal and twice-a-week sex. She’d learned to make quick but accurate judgments about people. She would guess he didn’t cheat at cards or on women, that he had plenty of friends and a strong moral code.
He wasn’t anyone she could get involved with. She’d yet to meet someone she could, but Will was definitely out of the question.
She put the tall glass of beer in front of him and started toward the other end of the bar.
“Is it the limp?”
The question stopped her in her tracks. She turned slowly, then returned to stand in front of him.
“No.”
He shrugged. “Some women don’t like it. They’re into perfect.”
“That’s not me. I don’t find perfect appealing.”
“Okay. Then what is it?”
He was attractive, she thought. Normal. Lately her friends had been falling for normal, nice guys. She envied them.
“What happened?” she asked, ignoring his question.
“Construction accident. Fell off the side of a bridge. Nearly broke every bone in my body. Took a long time to get better.”
She sensed there was more to the story. He must have spent weeks or months in the hospital, hundreds of hours in physical therapy.
“Do you have a lot of pain now?”
“I know when it’s going to rain, but I’m okay.” He gave her a slow, sexy smile. “Want to see my scars?”
She found herself wanting to say yes. To tease him back, to let her guard down for a few minutes. To remember what it was to be like everyone else.
“Maybe another time.”
“I’m here for a couple of years. I have plenty of time.”
“But then you’ll go to a different project?”
He nodded. “Nature of the business. I’ve seen most of the world. Travel is exciting.”
“I prefer staying in one place,” she said, admitting a truth before she could stop herself. “It took a lot of looking to find this town.”
“What do you like about it?”
“The people. They’re very warm. As is the climate. It’s a great location.”
What she didn’t tell him was that here she was allowed to pretend it all was real. That she was just like everyone else, that her past had never happened. Here she was simply Jo, the owner of Jo’s Bar.
“So, show me,” he said. “I’m the new guy. Don’t I at least deserve a tour?”
She looked at him. For once, she was tempted to give in and flirt. To touch and be touched. It had been years since she’d been with a man. Years since she’d allowed herself to be that vulnerable. Last time the consequences had destroyed people. Because of her great need to love and be loved, a man had died.
“I can’t,” she said abruptly. “It’s not about you—it’s not personal. I’m sorry, but that’s how it has to be.”
Will nodded slowly, then got up from the stool. He tossed a ten on the bar.
“The drink’s on the house,” she said stiffly.
“No, thanks. I only accept drinks from my friends.”
With that he left. She watched him limp out. When the door closed behind him, her stomach lurched and she wondered if she was going to throw up.
She’d hurt him, she knew that. Just as painful, she’d hurt herself. But she didn’t have a choice. She couldn’t take a chance. This time, there would be too much to lose.
“I LOVE THIS TOWN,” Tucker said, as he closed the email. “They’ve approved our permits ahead of schedule.” He looked across the small trailer toward Nevada. “Did you have anything to do with it?”
“While I’d love to take credit, no. I’ve told you. Everyone is very excited about the project. You’re bringing jobs and tourists to the area. Where’s the bad?”
Her words made sense, but the ease with which everything was moving forward made him a little apprehensive. Every job he’d ever been on had problems. He preferred them to be up-front, so he could deal with them and move on.
“Don’t worry,” she told him.
“Worrying makes me good at my job.” He stood and crossed to the coffeepot. “Want some?” he said, holding up the full pot.