Martinis & Moonlight (A Country Road Novel - Book 3)

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Martinis & Moonlight (A Country Road Novel - Book 3) Page 9

by Andrea Johnston


  Since my mom is here, I take the opportunity to sneak into my room and change out of my clothes, use the restroom without an audience, and wash my face. While I’m at it, I pull some clothes from the hamper and start a load of laundry. Once I’ve got the laundry going and pulled a cold bottle of water from the refrigerator, I make my way out to the backyard where my mom and the girls are playing. When Dakota and I talked this week, she told me she was scheduled to transition to the new facility where the focus will be on her depression, grief, and physical therapy sessions. Assuming she actually starts talking to the counselors about the accident and losing Jeff, she may be home within the next two months. My fingers are crossed she’s home by Halloween and will be able to take the girls trick or treating.

  “Hey, everyone,” I offer in greeting as I step down onto the grass where everyone is laying on a blanket.

  “Hi, honey, how was your day?”

  “It was a day, that’s for sure.”

  “Everything okay, Minnesota?” As usual, when my mom says my name, I roll my eyes. Funny how when Owen says my name it sends tingles across my spine, but when my mom says it I want to correct her.

  “Oh, everything’s fine. What brings you by?”

  “Well, I was just running errands and realized I was going home to an empty house this weekend and I wanted to see if I could take the girls tonight instead of tomorrow morning. I thought you’d like the extra night to yourself and I could use the company. Turns out, that house is just a little too big for me all alone.”

  “Do you want to stay here? We could have a girls’ night.”

  “That’s sweet, but I have a feeling as much as I’m lonely in that house, your dad and brother will be home early because they’ll miss the comforts of home. I’d like to be there when they do.”

  “Didn’t they leave today for their trip?”

  “Yep, and your dad took eggs, hot dogs, and nothing else. Your brother will have eaten all of that by the time they wake up for breakfast.”

  “Are you sure he didn’t do that on purpose? Sounds like something Dad would do.”

  We both get a laugh out of that and head inside to pack the girls’ bags. Mom agrees to stay long enough to feed the girls an early dinner and take a bath. I may not have put up much of a fight for her taking them, but I really will miss them and want to have a little time with them today. After the girls are fed and clean, I help Mom buckle them in their seats when I realize they’ll miss their call with Dakota.

  “Mom, what about their call with Dakota?”

  “Oh, I spoke to her when I was on my way here. She said she was planning to attend a movie tonight so it worked out for everyone because she wouldn’t have to leave the movie to call. I think she’s making friends and being social, which is fantastic. I didn’t want her to think she has to give that up to call the girls.”

  “I agree. She needs that balance. Thanks for knowing I do, too. I’ll call you guys tomorrow?”

  “Absolutely. Why don’t you get yourself prettied up and go out tonight? Call some friends, hit up a dance club or something.”

  “A dance club? Mom, this is Lexington. There are no dance clubs. But, maybe I’ll call my friends and see if they’re up to going out.”

  “You know, in my day I didn’t wait for my friends. I went out on my own.”

  “What are you talking about? You were married and a mother of two by the time you were twenty-one.”

  “True, but it doesn’t mean I didn’t have a good time before then. Okay, I need to get these two home. Have a good night, honey, make good choices.”

  “Yes, Mother.”

  I stand on the grass watching as my mom pulls out of the driveway and turns down the street. I pull my phone from my back pocket as I head into the house and tap out a quick group text to Ashton and Piper.

  Me: I’m kid free for the entire weekend. Girls night?

  Piper: Can’t I already promised Ben a date night. Rain check?

  Ashton: Sorry, I have plans. Maybe next weekend?

  Me: Sure.

  Ashton: You should go to the Road. It’s fun and I’ll text Taylor to treat you like family.

  Me: By myself?

  I place my phone on the counter and pull out the bottle of vodka I have in the freezer while moving over to the cupboard I keep my bar supplies. Just a few quick pours and shakes and I pour myself a perfect dirty martini. I savor the first sip and enjoy the saltiness of the olive juice as it hits each taste bud. Delicious. My phone signals multiple messages and I pick it up to see what I’ve missed.

  Piper: Ash, by herself?!

  Ashton: Piper, it’s fine. Go Min.

  Piper: But BY HERSELF?!!!!

  Ashton: Calm your tits MOM. Go Min, I text Taylor and told him if a hot ass blonde comes in and looks too good for the place, that’s you.

  Piper: Maybe I’ll give Ben a rain check.

  Me: Don’t you dare! You know what? I’m going to go.

  Piper: Text me when you get there.

  Piper: And when you leave.

  Piper: Better yet, I’m going to text you while you’re there and if you don’t answer I’m calling Taylor.

  Me: Yes, mom. Go be with your man. I’ll talk to you both later!

  Ashton: Leave the woman alone, Pipe. Have fun Min!

  Piper: Fine. Bye.

  Me: Bye.

  Normally I wouldn’t go out to a bar by myself, but something about going to Country Road seems fun and outside of my comfort zone. I think it’s time to be different. To go back to the girl I was before Kent and Corporate America.

  The minute I opened the door, which by the way must weigh no less than three hundred pounds, I had a feeling Country Road was going to be a good fit for me. When I was living with Kent, we spent most of our evenings out with clients or colleagues. Stuffy, boring, and egocentric people. Not the kind of people I enjoy spending my down time with. But, with Kent it was a routine I easily fell into and stopped questioning.

  Tonight, standing before my full-length mirror, I was pleased with my outfit choice: dark-wash skinny jeans, a simple black T-shirt with a saying about whiskey in a fancy script on the front, and a pair of ankle boots. Instead of spending time straightening my hair, I’ve been allowing it to dry naturally. The effects are loose waves that fall just below my shoulder. Kent didn’t like my hair like this and, over time, taking the curl out became a habit. Looking at myself now, I remember how much softer I look with natural. I look like me.

  I grabbed a lightweight jacket from the hook by the door before locking up the house. The moment I settled behind the wheel of my car, I contemplated going back inside. As much as I’m okay with being alone, going out to a bar by myself seems a little pathetic. No, a lot pathetic. I know, people do it all the time. I’m not one of those people. But, if I spend one more night in this house I may go insane.

  Now, thirty minutes and a dirty martini later, I sit at the bar of Country Road, people watching. True to her word, Ashton had already told Taylor I was coming and he was very kind and accommodating when I arrived. I really lucked out connecting with Ashton and Piper and the people in their circle.

  “How’re you doing, Minnie?”

  “I’m doing okay, Taylor. Do you guys have food?”

  “Sure do. Let me grab you a menu. Want a water while I’m at it?”

  I nod in response as I pop an olive in my mouth. I savor the saltiness of the little green goodness as Taylor returns with a menu and water.

  “The steak sandwich is to die for.”

  “Oh, that does sound good. But, I already ate something. I just kind of have the munchies. Probably something about being in a bar and having a drink.”

  “I hear ya. Let me know what you decide. I’ll be down at this end of the bar,” Taylor says to me, but his gaze is above my head. He does one of those chin raises in acknowledgment of someone behind me. I turn in my seat as I take the last drink of my martini and note the newest arrival.

  Owen.

  G
reat. Hopefully he’ll go to a different part of the bar. The last thing I need is to say or do something embarrassing. Today was awkward enough, I don’t need to add to it.

  “You know what, Taylor?” My voice is a little squeaky as I feel Owen move next to my seat and lean against the bar. “I’ll take that steak sandwich. And a to-go box. I can always eat the rest tomorrow. And another of these, please.”

  “You got it, Minnie. Owen, don’t be a dick.”

  “Dude!”

  “Not my call. That’s from Ashton. She sent me a text earlier in case you showed up.”

  I raise my hand to cover my mouth to stifle the giggles forming. I fail and one escapes. Oh, that Ashton. She’s a good egg.

  Taylor walks away and begins punching in something on the computer screen, which I assume is my order. Before he begins making my drink, a customer grabs his attention. I reach for my water and take a long sip as the large body next to me shifts and nudges my arm. Not wanting to acknowledge his closeness, or that when he touches me I have to tell my lady business to calm down, I slightly shift my body in my chair putting another inch of distance between us.

  Not saying anything, Owen simply stands there talking to the guy with him. I casually look and confirm it’s Landon. I quickly turn my attention forward before either see me looking. Maybe I should say something. I feel totally out of place and a little socially awkward. Thankfully, Taylor returns with my second dirty martini, gently setting it down in front of me as he tosses a cardboard coaster at Owen. I snicker to myself as I hear them exchange a few jabs at one another. Taking the sword holding two olives, I stir my martini before taking a small sip.

  “Figures you’d drink that.”

  Sputtering my drink, I set my glass down and wipe the dribbles of vodka from my lip before turning toward Owen.

  “Excuse me?”

  “I said, ‘Figures you’d drink that.’”

  “Yes, I heard what you said, but I don’t understand what you mean by it.”

  Taylor returns with a dark draft beer for Owen, sliding it across the bar. It’s filled almost to the top, no head like I usually see. I casually watch Owen out of the corner of my eye as his lips hover over the pint glass. The dark, amber liquid looks a little intimidating to me, but by the look on his face, he enjoys it. As he sets the glass down, his tongue grazes his top lip and removes the bit of beer that remained.

  Dear God, who knew such a simple act could be so … erotic?

  “What I mean is, that drink seems fitting for someone like you.”

  “Someone like me?” Three words that I know are laced with judgment and assumptions. “What is someone ‘like me’?” I ask with air quotes as I turn fully to face him and straighten my back. “Do you mean an educated, independent, and confident woman? Is that what you mean? Because yes, then it is exactly what ‘someone like me’ drinks.”

  “Whoa, relax there, your majesty. I didn’t mean anything negative. And, by the way, those things are all traits I’d attribute to someone that drinks a dirty martini.” I begin to cut him off but he holds his finger up to stop me. “What I was trying to say before you got defensive and decided I needed another asshole is, classy, sophisticated, and too good for the likes of this place.”

  “Oh.” Whoops. I may have been a little quick on the defense. I hated when Kent would look down on people and pass judgment. Many times, when we were together, I’d feel like less than he deserved. I know now it was most definitely the other way around, but it didn’t matter then and I guess, in many ways, I still feel that way. “Sorry. Thank you?”

  “Are you not sure if you’re thanking me?” Owen takes another drink from his pint and instead of him licking his lip, I find myself licking my own.

  “What’s wrong with this place? I like it.”

  He looks at me for a few seconds. Regardless of what people say, seconds feel like minutes when you’re being looked at by someone you’re completely attracted to.

  “I don’t know, I’m sure you’re used to something much nicer than Country Road. You seem like a classy chick that should be fine dining, not sitting at a bar on a chair that’s probably as old as I am.”

  Owen grabs his glass and, this time, finishes off the beer and signals for Taylor to bring him another. I welcome the lull in conversation. I’m not quite sure how to respond. The fact of the matter is, I was that woman. That was the life I had with Kent. But this place, it’s the kind Dakota and I went to when we were in college. Before she married Jeff and before I started in the corporate world. I’m about to tell Owen just that when Taylor sets down a large plate of food in front of me and a beer in front of Owen.

  “Here ya go, Minnie. Steak sandwich. I wasn’t sure what you’d like for a side dish, so I had them go with the green salad and put a few fries on the side. Best of both worlds,” Taylor says with a wink that causes me to blush. What is with this town and all the good-looking guys?

  “Thanks, I appreciate it. Can I get a few extra napkins? Unfortunately, I’m known to be a sloppy eater,” I tease as I cut the steak sandwich into three parts. There is no way I’ll finish this myself. Taking a deep breath, I slide the plate over slightly and turn my head toward Owen.

  “Would you like some of this? There is no way I’ll finish this; it’s enough for an army.”

  “Nah, I’m good.”

  “Please? It’ll just go to waste. Help me out. And, maybe you’ll take a few minutes to get to know me before passing judgment. Because, for your information, this is exactly the kind of bar I prefer spending my nights in. Well, I prefer to be at home so I can enjoy more than two martinis in a night, but if I’m going out I like a good old-fashioned honky-tonk kind of bar. Now, please eat.”

  Owen stares at me for a minute before grabbing a third of the sandwich. Taylor places a small plate and extra napkins before us and shakes his head at us before turning away.

  “So, Minnie,” Owen says as he wipes his mouth with a napkin and sets the sandwich down on the small plate. “Tell me about martinis.”

  A bright light wakes me from a very deep and much-needed sleep. Obviously, I forgot to close the curtains before I fell asleep last night and my punishment is a waking up at … yep, seven on a weekend. Fabulous. I stretch my arms over my head and think back to last night. Going out alone wasn’t as awful as I had expected it to be. It helps to run into people I know, even if the evening ended a little disappointing.

  Owen finished my sandwich as I took the last sip of my second martini. By the time I popped the last olive in my mouth I was feeling relaxed and carefree. I know myself well enough to know that two is my limit when I’m out so I replaced my empty martini glass with another glass of water.

  Owen and I made small talk, but didn’t hit on any personal points. For the most part, we talked about food, the best vodka, his preference of a good IPA, and when not to go to the market if I want to avoid the long lines. I still don’t understand what an “IPA” is but I played along and figured I’d rely on trusty Google for that definition. I mentioned to Owen a few projects I wanted done around the house before Dakota moved in and he hesitated before saying he may know someone who could help me. I mistakenly assumed he’d give me the number of a local handyman but soon I realized he meant himself.

  I turn to my side and look at the closet doors, not really seeing them. Last night replays in my head, forcing a smile from my face and then a bit of a frown. After a few glasses of water, I excused myself to the ladies’ room. I won’t even try to deny the physical attraction I have toward Owen and, if his flirtations are any indication, the feeling is mutual.

  After a little pep talk in the ladies’ room, I decided that maybe I’d ask him to help with one of the small projects I have. Then, maybe fate would take over and we could see where the flirtation took us. I know, I know. That’s kind of ridiculous. I mean, we work together, I’m becoming friends with his friends, and he’s him.

  I’m just some woman who moved to town with a ton of baggage and even more
life decisions to make. But, I’m not looking for a forever kind of thing, I just want some companionship. Friendship with a little bonus of some messing around wouldn’t hurt.

  Owen seems like the right guy for what I need. Simple, no strings, and the promise of a really good time. Yep, this was my conversation with myself in the ladies’ room of Country Road. I’m known to be a quick talker, but it’s even truer when I’m having a conversation in my own head.

  But, joke’s on me. In the five minutes I was gone from my seat, Owen had already moved on to another woman. Well, women. There were two women flanking him when I returned to my seat. One had her boobs resting on the bar top while she leaned over, flashing her barely covered ass to the entire room. Classy. I offered a cordial, and tight-lipped, smile to the trio as I squeezed my way onto my chair. Obviously, I had misread Owen’s flirtations and, thankfully, have now avoided making a complete ass out of myself, too.

  I felt awkward and slightly embarrassed and before Taylor could offer me another drink, I handed over my credit card and paid for my bill. The expression on his face told me he was confused by my sudden change in demeanor so I offered him a smile. Even when I’m embarrassed and annoyed with myself, I refuse to not be kind to those that are kind to me.

  I refused to look at the trio next to me while I waited for Taylor to hand me back my card. Unfortunately, I was still able to hear every giggle, purr, and “baby” next to me.

  After what felt like an eternity, Taylor returned with my slip and a pen. I scribbled in a tip and illegible version of my name before hopping down from my seat. I only made it a few steps when I felt a hand grab my elbow. Stopping but not turning around immediately, I force myself to plaster on a huge fake smile before turning to Owen. I’m not sure why I felt defeated and a little embarrassed for misreading him. We’re barely acquaintances.

  Acquaintances. That’s what we are. I groan to myself as I flop onto my back. I should have drank a little more so I wouldn’t have such a clear memory of how stupid I felt. Last night confirmed just how long I’ve been out of the single scene. So long that I mistook flirting for a possibility of something a little more.

 

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