The Singer and the Silent Type: Small Town Older Man Younger Woman Romance

by Haley Travis

  The Singer and the Silent Type

  (Small Town Older Man Younger Woman Romance)

  By Haley Travis

  Copyright 2021 Haley Travis. All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted or duplicated in any form whatsoever without express written permission of the author. This book is intended for sale to adults only. This is a work of fiction. Any similarities to actual people or specific locations or details is completely coincidental, or intended fictitiously. All characters are over 18, no sex partners are related, all sex is consensual. This is fantasy. In the real world, everyone practices safe sex at all times. Right? Right.

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  ***

  CONTENTS

  Chapter One ~ Lorena

  Chapter Two ~ Cody

  Chapter Three ~ Lorena

  Chapter Four ~ Cody

  Chapter Five ~ Lorena

  Chapter Six ~ Cody

  Chapter Seven ~ Lorena

  Chapter Eight ~ Cody

  Chapter Nine ~ Lorena

  Chapter Ten ~ Cody

  Chapter Eleven ~ Lorena

  Epilogue ~ Lorena

  Other Stories and About the Author

  Chapter One

  ~ Lorena ~

  I’d been warned at the beginning that this job would require many different talents, but I still laughed whenever I opened the door of the tavern with my knee while holding an armload of wildflowers from the field out back. This afternoon I managed to brace myself on the wall so that I only dropped two Black-Eyed Susans.

  I dropped today’s fragrant haul on one of the largest tables. Grabbing the scissors and a tray full of coffee mugs half-filled with water, I quickly started making little arrangements.

  Iris, the outspoken and downright sassy owner of The Last Barrel, had said during my job interview that she wanted each employee to do everything they could to keep this more of a family-friendly tavern than an outright bar. Since it was the only place to socialize in this small town, her word was law.

  Her philosophy was that if the women felt comfortable here, they would come more frequently. That meant more dates, involving dinner and conversation. And by extension, the men who were lined up across the bar drinking straight whiskey were more likely to behave themselves, since they had a mixed audience.

  Although I’d only been working here for a month, last week I took it upon myself to add flowers to the tables. The glassware was too fragile to be used as vases, but hardly anyone used the coffee mugs in the evenings. A little white mug full of wildflowers added a charming touch to every table, like an old fashioned farmhouse. Iris seemed proud of me, agreeing that it did give it more of a restaurant feeling in here.

  I didn’t mind starting early to take on florist duties, since I got a ride with the cooks anyway. I was so incredibly grateful for this job, I would have done anything.

  As I arranged Queen Anne’s lace with buttercups, striped grass, and whatever the little purple flowers were called, I glanced around at the charming old-fashioned room. This establishment was the social gathering place of Sunset Ridge, and the heart of the town.

  My Grandma Little had lived here ages ago, and when I mentioned that I needed a new place to live and a change of pace, my mother mailed me the keys to the old house on the edge of town. My Mother didn’t teach me much about life, but I distinctly remembered Grandma mentioning when I was tiny was that if life wasn’t working out, change locations. Now that I was living in an actual house, not a scruffy apartment with shifty roommates, I desperately wanted to stay forever.

  After a lot of cleaning and scrubbing, it was certainly livable, even if everything was tragically outdated. My only dream in life had always been to sing in a band, but now I had a secondary goal of fixing up the old house a bit, and living there permanently.

  Quickly wiping each table and placing a mug of flowers on each wooden surface, I loved the way the delicate blossoms peeked out of the chunky sturdy china. Perhaps that was a bit like me – a bit fragile, but trying to be tough enough to survive this world.

  Tossing out the last of the floral bits and scrubbing my hands, I began polishing glasses and taking stock of the whiskey and beer levels.

  So far, working at The Last Barrel had been the best job I’d ever had. In other bars, and even cafés, I was used to being harassed, grabbed, and treated like I could be replaced at any second.

  Not so here. Iris had assured me that everyone in this place was family. None of the townspeople would dare misbehave, for fear of being banned for life. I’d actually seen Iris grab a man by the ear and march him out the front door, ordering his friend to drive him home or she would report both of them to their wives.

  I liked that she ran a tight ship. I also liked that she was loud, and had no problem speaking her mind. I wanted to learn from her, and perhaps grow a bit more backbone.

  Iris came out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on her apron. “Lorena, I have to say, you were absolutely right about the flowers. Good eye, missy.”

  “Thanks,” I said, forcing myself to use my audible, working voice instead of my usual whisper.

  “The special tonight is Alice’s meatloaf, with carrots and broccoli. We’re a little low on pie, so push the chocolate cake if you can.”

  “Okay,” I nodded. “Is there anything different this weekend because of the rodeo?”

  She rolled her eyes to the heavens, her big blonde curls shaking slightly. “That’s right, darlin’. It’s your first rodeo, isn’t it?”

  I nodded. Apparently the rodeo coming to Sunset Ridge every year was a huge deal – almost like a county fair. It brought the entire town together.

  “You saw the schedule, right?” she asked.

  “Yes,” I said, glancing at where it was taped over the wall phone.

  The rodeo’s opening ceremonies were this evening, but they were short and everyone would be coming back here for a beer afterward. Then Saturday and Sunday we didn’t even open until the rodeo finished at five, and we were expecting half of the town to be here. Iris had even set up patio furniture and roped off an area outside the front window to create more seating.

  “Don’t look so nervous,” she grinned. “It’s good to have a bit of excitement around here. You’re going to watch the main events on Saturday, right?”

  “I think so,” I said. To be honest, I felt odd going alone, even though I would probably find people there that I knew. It was strange being the new girl in a place where everybody had known each other, their parents, and their parents’ parents for years.

  Iris had been helping me to become accustomed to the town, pointing out the best vegetable markets, places to avoid, and people to avoid, like the local preacher’s wife, Verity. Apparently, she was a savage gossip and found something negative to say about absolutely everyone. I was used to city folks being uptight, but I’d never heard of anyone being as nasty as this woman.

  Luckily, since liquor was a sin, she never came to the tavern. Thank goodness. It was hard enough to make a point to be friendly with strangers without having someone breathing down my neck, trying to find something cruel to say at every turn.

  We had had a bad beginning right from the start. Reverend Simon Jones, the minister of the tiny church in town, had showed up on my doorstep unannounced at eight in the morning with his wife in tow the day after I moved in
. I had been wearing nothing but short shorts and a tank top, since that’s what I’d slept in, and besides, I’d never lived in a place where someone would show up without calling first!

  But from the look on Verity’s face, you’d think I’d intentionally flashed her husband. I’d been hearing fragments of gossip and outright lies about myself ever since.

  “I know it’s hard being new,” Iris said kindly, as if she could read my mind, which honestly seemed to happen quite often. “A little time, and you’ll get the hang of meeting people around here. Everything gets easier with practice, right?” She grinned. “I’m sure the very first time you picked up the guitar you were completely dreadful.”

  I laughed out loud, surprising us both. “That’s true,” I agreed.

  “Oh – I moved your guitar to the storeroom. I hope that’s okay.”

  “Sure. Thanks so much.”

  I had been worried about my guitar in my grandmother’s house, since it was so incredibly dry and dusty from being shut up for so long. So I left it here at the tavern, practicing when I got here before my shift. Since I got a ride most days with one of the cooks or dishwashers, and their shifts started earlier, it was perfect.

  It was actually more helpful practicing here than I’d realized. My stage fright was almost comical. But years of waitressing had forced me to get over my nerves. Now that I was an outsider, meeting an entire town at once, it was another round of training myself to be outgoing and bright. The whole, ‘fake it ‘til you make it’ philosophy.

  Playing in the tavern when the only people around were back in the kitchen was good practice. I was still tingling inside from the day Iris had told me that she thought I had a lovely voice.

  A few truck doors slammed in the parking lot, and I looked up to see a few of our regulars arriving at exactly the moment we opened.

  Iris laughed, “I love a man on a schedule,” she said. “A steady, predictable man is worth his weight in gold.” I nodded, as if I knew a darn thing about men whatsoever.

  Rushing to unlock the front door before they reached it, I flipped the wooden sign around to say “Open”. I went back behind the bar to polish glasses while Chet and Glen got settled at a table in the corner.

  As soon as I had them settled with a couple of beers, I headed back to the bar, feeling a strange prickle between my shoulder blades before the front door opened again. Glancing back over my shoulder, I always felt like he was looking away just as I looked toward him.

  Cody Travers. The tall, quiet man with shoulders the size of a barn. Everyone seemed to leave him alone, as if his silence was somehow a warning to keep away.

  But I felt like I could see below the surface. From the way he moved, slow but almost graceful, I had a feeling he was just a guy who appreciated stillness. Someone who had nothing against other people, but just preferred his own company.

  I didn’t see him for the first two weeks I started working here. Then last week he came in for dinner twice. This week he came almost every night, sitting at the end of the bar in front of my station.

  Even though I’d always been a bit shy around people, I found it easier to talk with Cody, since he didn’t seem to want to speak very much himself. There was no reason to yatter on to him. It was simple. Even in the din of the busy tavern, it felt like we could be quiet, sharing a little smile now and then.

  I’d heard that he used to be a cowboy, with a stable of horses, but now he did construction or something. Whatever he did, it made him incredibly muscular, with a deep tan that was sexy as hell.

  It was strange how my stomach tightened whenever he was close. Those dark, piercing eyes, and slightly wavy black hair made him look far more intense than he actually was. He honestly didn’t seem to realize that he was the most handsome man in town.

  The thought of having a man in my life was a delightful yet unrealistic thought, like winning the lottery. I never seemed to be in one place for very long, and was rarely in the right place at the right time. Now that I wanted to stay here for years, I had started to think about it a bit more seriously.

  I could see through the front window that more cars and trucks were pulling into the lot. With extra people from the rodeo in town, it was certainly going to be a busy night.

  “Hello, Lorena,” Cody’s gruff voice said formally as he took his seat, slinging his denim jacket over the back of the high stool. I tried not to stare at how perfectly his black t-shirt stretched across his chest, and around his biceps.

  “Hey, Cody. Dark stout?”

  “Yes, thank you.” As I poured his beer, a tiny smile played at the corners of his lips. I often wondered how soft they were, surrounded by his rough stubble.

  Forcing myself to look straight into his eyes as I placed the glass in front of him, he stared at me for a moment before murmuring, “Thanks, Lorena.”

  “You’re welcome. Would you like a menu?”

  His gentle smile flashed straight through me, my fingers clenching my apron nervously. “Nah, if you could please put in an order for the special in about half an hour, that would be great.”

  “Okay, sure.” He was staying here for the whole night, it seemed.

  My heart began to flutter as I grabbed two menus and a water pitcher, heading to a table with two men who were obviously out of towners. As I walked by Cody, I could feel his eyes on me, making my fingers twitch. Pasting on a smile, I’d have to ignore him and focus on the customers. I needed every darned tip I could get, so that I could manage to hire someone to do a bit of work on my house before it completely crumbled around me.

  Handing the menus to the two rough-looking men, I tried not to frown at the obvious way they checked me out. I was used to creeps in the city, but not here.

  “Good evening, gentlemen,” I began, handing them the menus with one hand, then picking up one of their glasses to pour some water. Iris said we should always be careful to start people off with water so they didn’t hit the liquor harder because they were thirsty.

  A loud crash as someone dropped a plate in the kitchen made me jump, sloshing the pitcher of water all over the front of my white t-shirt. Looking down in horror, I realized everyone in the room could now clearly see the outline of my lacy peach bra and rather large breasts.

  The men in front of me locked their eyes on my chest. “Wow, darlin’, if you wanted a bigger tip, you could just say so,” one of them chuckled.

  The chill of the water was making me start to shiver, but then I felt his hand on my ass. “Baby, for a lap dance, you’ll get an even bigger tip.”

  Every pair of eyes in the room fixed on me. Verity’s best friend Esther was already texting her the news. I completely froze, too horrified even to burst into tears.

  Chapter Two

  ~ Cody ~

  My body moved without thought. I watched a stranger place his filthy hand on my angel’s sweet round ass, and the next thing I knew, I was holding him by the throat, shoved up against the wall.

  I knew people were staring. I also knew that I shouldn’t be tightening my grip quite so hard. But nobody behaved like that in my town, especially to Lorena.

  “You will both leave now, and never come back,” I said, my voice sounding icy, even to me. Dropping him like a sack of potatoes, he hit the floor with a grunt, looking shocked as hell.

  His friend dragged him out the door and into their truck, taking off like a shot. I moved just as fast, wrapping my jacket around Lorena to cover her, and slipping her out the back door to the side where I always parked my truck.

  I brought her around to the passenger side door so that she was hidden from view, and dug into my duffel bag.

  “Thank you,” she said softly. Everything about this sweet girl was soft. Her bright blue eyes, honey blonde hair, and endless curves that were starting to haunt my waking life as well as my dreams.

  “I always keep extra clothes in my truck,” I explained, pulling out a clean black t-shirt and handing it to her.

  “I’ve noticed you always wear th
e same shirt.”

  “The only difference is the level of dirt,” I chuckled, trying to put her at ease. The poor little thing was trembling, and it was physically difficult not to pull her into my arms. “Get that wet thing off before you catch a chill,” I said, turning my back to her. There were no windows on this side of the tavern, so she was well hidden between the door and my body.

  I heard her shuffling, then a tiny laugh. “It’s sort of huge.”

  I turned back to see my shirt hanging on her like a tent. “Hold still.” Whipping out my pocket knife, I slashed a line at the side from just below her waist to the bottom hem. Tying the two ends in a knot at her side, it gave the shirt some shape. It was pure hell not to place my hands on those lush hips.

  “There you are,” I smiled. “You look like a sassy little tomboy.”

  “Thank you,” she said, looking up at me. There was something new in her eyes. After two weeks of trying to keep my distance, here she was inches away from me.