Doing It Over (Most Likely To #1)

The noise in R&B’s was greater than most nights. The influx of graduates from ten years past filled all the stools at the bar . . . making Josie run like a wild woman with trays of drinks without a passing smile to the regulars.

Not that it mattered, Wyatt and Luke sat at one of the high-top tables in the thick of the crowd. Josie kept the longneck beers coming, didn’t even ask if they needed another round as she handed them off while she passed by.

“This is crazy.” Wyatt looked around the standing room only space.

“Happens every year.” Luke tipped his bottle back and kept glancing at the door.

“You recognize most of these people?” Wyatt asked.

“Some.”

“Friends . . . enemies?”

“Not a lot of enemies. Can’t say they were all friends.” Luke focused his attention back on Wyatt. “The problem and curse of a small town is everyone knows everyone. There isn’t one secret that everyone doesn’t know, and they never let them die. Especially ten years later.”

“Doesn’t seem like anything dies in this town.”

Luke shrugged. “The good stuff doesn’t. What else would the bridge club at Miss Gina’s gossip about if it did?”

“Miss Gina doesn’t play bridge.”

Luke laughed. “That’s what she calls it.”

“Drunk night where most of her club uses her rooms to sleep off her special lemonade.”

“Love her lemonade. Sucker punched me a few times when I was a kid. The only one who seemed immune to it was—”

“Me!”

Wyatt glanced up and noticed the town sheriff nudging Luke’s hand away from his beer before she took a swig.

“Hey!” Luke swiped the beer back with a wink.

It wasn’t often that Wyatt saw the sheriff at R&B’s. Unless it was in uniform breaking up a fight or helping Josie and her staff encourage a patron to take an offered ride home.

Tonight JoAnne Ward wore tight blue jeans, a cotton shirt that sat snug enough that the world knew she was a woman but wasn’t advertising it. Her hair was down, but most importantly, uncovered by that hat she always wore while on duty.

“Hi, Wyatt,” she said with a smile.

“Sheriff.”

“It’s Jo tonight.”

She leaned in and said something in Luke’s ear before Luke’s eyes traveled toward the door and the expression on his face froze.

Wyatt followed his gaze to find Melanie at the end of it. Her honey blonde hair was down in a clean sheet to her shoulders. At her side was an opposite bookend. Tall, sleek with dark hair and an air of confidence in the way she held her shoulders back. “Who’s that?” he found himself asking.

“Zoe.” The soft answer was hard to hear coming from Luke.

Melanie and Zoe stopped by a group closer to the door.

From across the room Melanie attempted to look above the heads while nodding to whatever the group surrounding her was talking about. Her gaze found his and she tilted her head.

Jo signaled the women over.

“You gonna be okay?” she asked Luke.

Wyatt returned his attention to Jo and found Luke studying his beer. “Long time ago, Jo. Old news.”

Before Wyatt could question what the two of them were talking about, Melanie and Zoe stepped up to their table.

Both Luke and Wyatt slipped out of their bar stools.

“I can’t believe Jeff lost his hair already. He’s only twenty-eight.”

“It was gone at twenty-four,” Luke told Melanie.

“Bad genes,” Jo said.

Wyatt returned Melanie’s smile. “I didn’t know you were going to be here,” she said.

“It’s this or senior bingo night.”

There was a moment of pause before Wyatt noticed the locked expressions on Luke and Zoe’s faces. Hard, controlled, and full of emotion all at the same time.

“Hi, Luke.” Zoe had a smooth texture in her voice that softened the hard line of Luke’s jaw.

“You, ah . . . you look amazing.”

“And you still have your hair.”

Luke laughed. “Good genes.”

Zoe opened her hands and Luke engulfed her in a hug. Even from the side, it looked like neither of them knew how to act.

Luke offered her his chair while Wyatt pushed his toward Jo and Melanie. “I’ll see if I can find another one.”

Wyatt turned over a stool for Jo and joined the conversation.

“We haven’t met.” Zoe reached across the table. “I’m Zoe.”

“Sorry.” Jo took over. “Zoe Brown, Wyatt Gibson. Wyatt moved here about what . . . six years ago?”

“Five.”

Josie stopped at their table, swept an empty bottle away. “What can I get . . .” Josie stopped talking and squealed. “Mel? Zoe?”

The high-pitched girl noises had Wyatt and Luke pulling back. “Women!” Luke said.

Even Jo rolled her eyes.

“Good God, Zoe? I hardly recognized you. Hollywood must be agreeing with you.”

“Dallas, actually.”

Wyatt leaned over to Luke. “Hollywood?”

“She was on one of those chef reality shows years ago,” Luke whispered.

“Oh.”

Josie turned her attention to Melanie. “You haven’t changed one bit. What are you doing these days?”

Melanie blinked a few times. “Been busy.”

“I heard you were married to some lawyer or something.”

“Uhm . . .”