“That’s what makes it so great,” Bryson jumped in. He’d been coming to the place for years.
“Hi, Camden,” said a woman as she approached. “You picked a great night to come in.”
“Hey, Alyssa. Can we get my favorite table tonight?”
“Of course you can. If someone was there, I’d just make them move.” She threw him a flirtatious smile, then turned toward Bryson and Misty. “It’s been a while, Bryson,” she said, stepping right up and throwing her arms around him.
“Sorry about that, Alyssa,” he told her, genuine affection shining in his eyes.
“Well, just don’t let it happen again. You go and get all busy with the FBI and forget all about us in the backwoods.”
“If I recall correctly, Alyssa, you had a hankering for the big-city life, doing cover shoots all over the world,” he countered.
“Yeah, yeah, that went real well.”
“You did great. I found that cover from your fitness magazine, and no one has ever done that rag such justice.”
“It was short-lived, but I sure grew up.” Something had obviously happened to hurt her during that time.
“Some people never get to live — just remember that,” Camden said, his words hitting Misty like a loaded shotgun. “But we’re being rude. This is a friend.” He paused, making sure to get her name right. “Magnolia.”
Misty was taken aback when Alyssa gave her a hug. “Any friend of the boys is a friend of mine,” the woman said with a genuine smile.
“It’s great to meet you,” Misty replied, her throat suddenly tight. How would it feel to make friends so easily, to have a real friend to share with? She feared she’d never know.
“We need to quit standing in the doorway gabbing,” Alyssa said, and she led the way to a nice corner table in the back of the room.
Misty noticed only about six other people in the place.
“The special is Doc’s meat loaf and loaded mashed potatoes with a heaping side of grilled asparagus,” Alyssa said as she started to write on her pad. After the men ordered, she looked at Misty and waited.
“Um, that sounds good.” There was no way Misty could eat that much food, but the guys had automatically chosen the special, and her leftovers would be good the next day, and possibly the day after that.
“Do you like your drinks virgin or with a bite?” Alyssa asked Misty.
“Um…with a bite,” she said hesitantly, expecting to get a list of choices.
“I’ll bring out your salads and drinks,” Alyssa said instead, and then left.
“We didn’t order drinks,” Misty said to the guys.
“Sorry, darling,” Bryson said. “We’re both so used to coming here. Alyssa knows our drinks. Plus, first-timers always get a free special drink. You’ll love it.”
Misty shrugged, though the use of an endearment dropping so easily from his tongue made her tingle a bit. “When in Rome…”
Alyssa brought out the drinks and the boys were right — hers was exceptional. It had a tangy, zestful flavor, and before she knew it, the first one was gone and another one was in its place. Within half an hour, her worries were pushed back to the farthest reaches of her mind, and she was laughing softly as Camden and Bryson told old “war stories” about the bar.
“Did you grow up here, too, Bryson?” she asked, her eyes slightly droopy, but her body relaxed. She munched happily on her dinner salad.
“Yes. Born and raised.” He tipped an imaginary cowboy hat.
“Is your family here?”
“Yep. You know about my little sister. She is hell on wheels, literally. She races dirt bikes, and gives me a heart attack every single time she goes on one of those tracks. The stunts she pulls — criminy. I don’t think I’ll live to be an old man.”
Misty loved that he was an overprotective big brother. What would her life have been had she been raised with a brother? That is, if Damien really existed other than as a name scribbled on a piece of paper.
“And then I have an older brother. He’s a good man, the fire chief here, actually. He’s done it all, including firefighting in NYC. He finally got sick of the big city and came home a few years ago. My mom and dad, who still live here, were happy to get one of their kids home. I’m in and out, but gone a lot for work. They keep hoping I’ll eventually take a field office job and stay here. I haven’t found a reason to yet,” he said, and then looked into her eyes.
Was he saying she could be a reason? It had to be the alcohol buzz in her head, because there was no way a man would change his plans for her. She just wasn’t the type of woman for whom men would jump through hoops. If only…
“Then there’s my grandmother,” Bryson said with a groan.
“Is she okay?” Misty asked, making both Camden and Bryson laugh. “I don’t get it.”
“Sorry. You’d have to meet the woman. She’s in her late sixties, I think. Well, I can’t get anyone to tell me her actual age, but whatever age she is, it hasn’t slowed her down even the tiniest bit. The poor sheriff has even had to arrest her and her best friend, Bethel, for disturbing the peace.”
“Really?” Misty really, really wanted to meet this woman.
“Yes, really,” Camden said. “The poor sheriff is seventy now, and he gave both ladies a stern lecture, but they didn’t care. They’re recapturing their youth or something.”
“Yeah, I was surprised Cam’s dad wasn’t with them as a partner in crime. The three are pretty close,” Bryson added.
“Your grandma and his dad?” Misty was more confused.
“Yeah, my dad is older,” Cam said, “and Bryson’s grandma had his mom when she was quite young, so they’re close in age.”
“Oh, I wasn’t saying anything bad…”
“Don’t worry. We didn’t take it that way,” Camden reassured her.
“Do your parents get upset when things like that happen? The arrest, I mean.” Misty found it so nice to sit back and hear about their families. Jealousy was sitting there with her, but not the ugly kind. She just wondered what it would have been like to have her own stories like this to tell.
“Hell, no,” Bryson replied. “They think it’s great that grandma is having fun. The more she lives life, the longer she’ll be in this world. I wouldn’t be surprised if my parents join the terrible trio in a few years.”