“We’ve decided to hold off on purchasing the building here in Peaceful Harbor. For now,” Jace explained. “But we want to move forward with this collaboration. You’ve got a lot to offer, and conceptualizing can be done primarily off site. But we need a commitment. We’ve got a slot to fill, and we’d like to fill it with you. We’ll need a decision within the next two weeks.”
Bear knew a golden opportunity when he heard it, but he couldn’t make a commitment to them until he made one to himself. And that meant preparing for another battle he might be waging alone.
WHISKEY BRO’S WAS busy for a Thursday night. Bear filled a pitcher with beer and set it on the counter for his mother, who was serving alongside Dixie tonight. She only worked a few hours a month, and Bear enjoyed when their schedules coincided.
“You’re up, Red,” he called out to her.
She hustled over in her black jeans and Whiskey Bro’s shirt and leaned across the bar, lowering her voice. “How long do you think it will take Dix to give that blond guy a piece of her mind?” She glanced in the direction of the tall, blond guy playing darts with two other guys. Bear had been keeping his eye on them, too.
“She likes the tips. When he crosses a line, she’ll shut him down.”
His mother patted his hand. “You’re right. You doing okay, babe?”
Babe. His mother never used their road names and rarely used their real names. Bear was pretty sure it was because, when they were growing up and she had four hellions to care for, she’d had to run through all the names before she hit the right one. His name usually sounded something like, Brandon, Wayne, Whateverthehellyournameis.
“Yeah, I’m good,” he said.
She pushed a hand into her short red hair and smirked. With her affinity for wearing black—shirt, pants, boots, jewelry—she looked an awful lot like a young Sharon Osbourne. “You can’t fool your mother.” She set the pitcher on the tray and said, “Next time you’re down at Mr. B’s, tell Maisy I said hello,” and strutted away.
Damn. Maisy and Ace Braden owned the microbrewery. He’d been so worried about staying out of his father’s sight that he hadn’t thought about how closely knit the community was.
Bear was filling another drink order when Dixie sidled up to the bar, popping bubble gum and watching Bear like he was a halftime show.
“What’s up, Dix?”
“I need two Jack and Cokes and a bottle of Bud.” She glanced at their mother, who was standing with her hand on her hip, giving the blond dart-playing flirt a piece of her mind.
“She’s going to ruin my tips,” Dixie complained as Bear poured the drinks. “Did Dad reach you about the expansion plan?”
“He called, but I was busy.” And by busy, he meant he’d let the call go to voicemail because he wasn’t sure how he wanted to handle that situation yet.
“He asked if you’d spoken to me about it. I told him you had, and I gave him the financials and projected earnings with the expansion. I broke it all down, just as I did with the two-year projections a few months ago. He has all the numbers he could possibly need, whether he decides to move forward or not. But he’s raring to go, so if you really don’t want to do it, you should tell him. Let it fall on Bullet.”
Bear scoffed, “He’s got less time than me and no experience with this kind of thing. Plus, B’s not exactly the most patient guy. Can you imagine him trying to negotiate prices for renovations?” He lowered his voice and narrowed his eyes, mocking Bullet. “What the fuck do you mean you can’t finish it by tomorrow? You’ll finish the job or I’ll use your head as a hammer and finish it myself.”
She laughed. “Maybe it’s time he learned since he’s so gung-ho about following in Dad’s footsteps. Thanks for the drinks. I need to go save my tips.” She spun on her high heels and sauntered over to the guys playing darts.
A few hours later, when his mother was getting ready to leave, she pulled him aside. “Want to tell me about Jace and Maddox?”
“Not really,” he said honestly.
She crossed her arms, her sharp green eyes telling him he wasn’t going to get away with that answer. “Your uncle Axel used to say that you were going to be the next Harley designer. You were the kid everyone came to with their broken bicycles, skateboards, and toys. You’ve designed and built more motorcycles than you’ve purchased. Now, Robert, do you want to talk to me about Jace and Maddox?”
“Seriously? You’re pulling Robert on me?”
“I’m pulling a mother talk on you. We don’t do these often enough.” She touched his cheek. “You’re as stubborn as your father.”
“Hardly,” he said.
“I didn’t say as ‘rigid.’ I said as ‘stubborn.’ There’s a difference, sweetheart. I know better than to come between you and your father, so I’m going to say only this. You’ve done more for this family than a parent could ever hope for. You’re a loyal, strong, intelligent young man, and I will forever be grateful for that enormous heart of yours. You saved this family, and you know how we Whiskeys work. When you’re in trouble, we’re in trouble and we have your back. You may not be in trouble right now, honey, but you need saving. Only this time you have to save yourself.” She hugged him and whispered, “Bring that beautiful love of your life over sometime. It’s time we do more than smile across the room.”
Stunned by her support, Bear could do little more than watch her walk away.
By the time he rolled out of the parking lot at two thirty in the morning, he was beat. He’d received a call from Tru that had his gut tied in knots. Apparently Crystal had finally come clean to Gemma. As he drove up the dark mountain road, he cursed himself for taking the shift and not being there for her. It had been a long night. A group of rowdy guys had come in around eleven and stayed until after one, playing pool and hitting on every woman in the place. That shit got old quick, and tonight, when he wanted to be with Crystal and not babysitting horny guys, his patience had been hanging on by a thread.
He pulled up the long driveway, activating the solar lights he’d installed last weekend and bringing Crystal’s car into focus. He slammed it into park and jumped out.
“Crystal?” he called into the dark, peering into her car.
With his heart in his throat, he ran to the front porch and found her fast asleep, curled up on a chair with Harley in her lap, holding her car keys and clutching the little worry doll between her fingers. She wore a pair of plaid pajama pants and the shirt that read Dip me in honey and feed me to Bear. His heart squeezed. He dropped to his knees and wrapped his arms around her waist, a wave of relief washing over him.
She opened her eyes, a smile curving her lips.
“Hey, sugar. Are you okay?”
“Our bed felt empty,” she said sleepily.
Our bed. Christ, she was every bit as in as he was. He picked up Harley and hugged Crystal. “I’m so glad you’re here.”
“I told Gemma,” she whispered against his cheek.