Josie’s smile tightened. “Yes, Diane?”
“Why did we change the name again?” she asked, making Josie’s lips stretch. “This was supposed to be our end of summer party by the lake. It should have been weeks ago, the last week of August, like every year.” That head of bright yellow turned in the direction of the stands. “Where are the corn dogs or the mini glazed donuts? We’re also serving more than just beer. And while you’re at it, I still don’t understand what you mean by boogie.”
Josie let out a chuckle that didn’t sound as lighthearted as she’d hoped, if I had to guess. “Well, Diane, if you would have paid a little attention during our spring council meeting, you’d remember that we were trying to spice things up for the upcoming seasons. You know, to bring in more people from all over the county with fun and catchy events that have fun and catchy names. Hence the boogie, hence the barbecue, hence the craft beer and hence”—her voice went high—“the change of name.”
“But there’s a coffee booth,” Diane countered. “And our end of summer party was fine. It was the best one in the county, if I may say so myself. I don’t get why we need to be attractive to folks from other towns.”
Josie’s whole expression bunched up as she launched herself into another discourse about why change was good.
The man standing next to me exhaled long and deep, catching my attention. His hand had risen to his hair and he was dragging it down the side of his head. By now, I knew a few of Cameron’s tells. He wasn’t happy to be here, and after watching him during yesterday’s game, I could guess it was because of the people this could bring. He’d flinched every time the crowd had stirred.
“It’s the boogie part, isn’t it?” I asked him in a hushed voice.
My question seemed to surprise Cameron, because when he looked over at me, it was with a frown. “Yeah.”
I wondered why he would put himself through this when he hated it so much. He really thought I would expose him. Guilt swirled in my stomach. “If Josie does so much as suggest we dance, I’m out of here.”
“We?”
“The volunteers,” I explained, feeling a wave of warmth climbing up my neck. The image of Cameron’s arms around me took shape in my mind. “I’ll hide in the woods if I have to. Even after Josie said some very disturbing things about them being possibly haunted. That is how bad I don’t want to boogie tonight.”
Cameron snorted.
“Out of everyone here, I’d thought you would believe that.”
Amusement flashed across his expression. “And why is that, darling?”
“Because your kind believe in lucky rituals and things like juju,” I pointed out with a shrug. I wanted to ask him if wearing the ring on a chain had been partly about that. “I’ve seen players do the most ridiculous things before games.”
Cameron’s eyes roamed around my face for a moment, as if searching for something. That stupid flush returned. “Not all footballers are the same.” He turned away, facing forward. “If you’re nice to me tonight I’ll take you on a hike and show you there are no ghosts. But you can’t come in those bloody shoes.”
I huffed. “If I’m nice—”
“You two will be on beer duty,” Josie said, suddenly in front of us. “Loving the look, Adalyn. But did you bring anything a little thicker than that blazer? Temps really drop at night by the lake. That’s why we say on the brochure to come dressed in layers.”
I looked down at myself. “This is tweed. I’ll be fine.”
“Alrighty then,” she said, clapping her hands and turning around. “Follow me, please. I’ll show you to your station.” We trailed behind her. “People from town who signed up for the BBBBL will not be having fun just yet.” She stopped at a stand with a sign that read JOSIE’S JOSTLER. I frowned. “This baby over here is my craft beer venture. I’m still working on the name.”
Cameron muttered something I didn’t catch under his breath.
“So…” I hesitated. “You’ve brewed the beer that will be served tonight?”
“Yes, ma’am.” A bigger than usual grin parted her face. “It’s a hazy IPA. I’ve been perfecting the recipe for months, and I think this is the one. You can tell me when you try it.” She winked. “Okay, enough chitchat. People will be coming in soon and I want every volunteer set and ready to go.” She pointed at a barrel with a device locked at the top. “Have you ever used one of these?”
“Yes,” Cameron answered with a sigh before I could say a word. “And the spigot is not screwed in properly.”
He rolled up the sleeves on that flannel jacket he was wearing tonight. My eyes dipped to his forearms and immediately spotted the ink spilling out of the rolled sleeve, covering his skin. Something lodged somewhere between my rib cage and stomach at the sight, something that wasn’t just curiosity. I leaned forward so I could get a better look as Cameron’s hands landed on the top of the barrel.
Forearms flexed as little pieces and bits were screwed off and on with determined motions.
I patted my cheeks. They were warm. And I—
Oh God. What was happening? I’d never been into manual labor. Or tattoos. Or forearms. Or flannel for that matter.
I was startled out of my trance by an elbow to the side.
Josie’s pale blue gaze was pointed at me with a mischievous glance. You’re drooling, she mouthed. My eyes widened in horror and my hand dashed to my mouth. She chuckled loudly, and when Cameron shot us a questioning look, she sobered up and said, “Thanks for taking care of it, Cam.”
Cameron’s answer was a shrug.
“Okay, now that I really know the Josie’s Jostler is in good hands and that you, Cam, can show Ada how the tap system works, I’m going to cut straight to the chase.” Josie’s hand stuck in the air, in the direction of a black metallic box. “Everyone coming gets food and drink tokens at the entrance, so all you have to do is take a token and serve a beer. If you get any enthusiastic tippers, you tell them that there’s a piggy bank in the shape of a goat by the hot beverages stand. That’s where I will be. All tips will go to the budget of next year’s BBBBL. Questions?” She waited for an instant, but when my mouth opened, she said, “No questions, perfect! Now I need to run to the grill station. Gabriel said something very disturbing about homemade vegan patties earlier. Have fun, and”—that mischievous look returned—“remember that you’re here to pretend you’re bonding. Diane is extra watchy today, so I suggest you be extra bondy.”
And with a very suggestive wink in my direction that made my face turn beetroot red, Josie jogged away.
“You okay?” Cameron asked.
“Sure,” I answered, walking around him and setting up somewhere where those extremely distracting forearms were not visible. “I was just thinking that I forgot to ask Josie what the boogie thing was about.” I busied myself with the cashbox. “So how did you know about the spigot?”
* * *
Turned out Cameron had worked at a pub in his late teens. He’d also spent his summers juggling every possible job available before signing his first contract. It explained things. It also made a little spot on my chest expand.
But I wasn’t going to pay any attention to that. Me having a sweet spot for hardworking people wasn’t new.
It also turned out that the boogie part of the evening was a Green Oak band’s renditions of seventies and eighties songs. A band in which Josie played the bass.
It was truly fascinating the number of things that woman could do.