Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4

P atrick hovered at the table shifting his gaze between Chelsea and Sandy. He couldn't believe Chelsea would've shared anything about his brother and the money.

He rarely stopped in at Ace's, but today he needed to blow off some steam, and even though a workout would have done him some good he decided to take a night off and have a beer. These were the last two people he expected to run into.

"I didn't mean to interrupt. I can find a place at the bar." Patrick turned to leave, but Sandy caught him by the arm.

"Stay." He hopped off his seat and grabbed an empty chair.

Patrick accepted the seat with a half-smile. "Thanks." He turned his beer bottle around in concentric circles on the tabletop. For some reason, he was fidgeting. Probably because he'd barged in at an incredibly awkward moment. "You did great today. First day on the job and everyone loved you." Patrick sat up in his chair. "The customers . They really responded to you," he clarified.

"Be right back." Chelsea disappeared to the bar with their empty mug.

Sandy shifted in his seat as he chugged down the rest of his drink as if he needed to gather his courage. "Sorry about earlier. I kinda pried stuff out of Chelsea that I had no business doing, but I've been worried about you since this afternoon."

Gripping his beer bottle, Patrick wished he could say it was fine, but he didn't want to discuss his brother. Or the unpaid lease. Or the possibility of losing the store. Instead he asked, "Do you wanna play darts?"

His new employee reared back in near horror. "Only if you and everyone in this bar have a death wish."

"So that's a ‘no'?"

Chelsea returned with fresh drinks for both men. "I have to head out. These are on me."

They bid Chelsea a good night and a nod of thanks.

"You two seem to be fast friends." Patrick slipped out of his chair and into Chelsea's. He could tell himself he'd made the move so he didn't have to keep thinking about crap he didn't want to think about, but honestly? He wanted to sit closer to his new photographer who smelled like peppermint and vanilla hair products.

"They're cool. And what can I say? I blend well with the people." Sandy smirked as he leaned his head on his hand with a—what? Was that a flirtatious smile?

Patrick shook his head and finished the remains of his first beer.

"Although, it's kind of a commentary on rural Illinois that I'm the only Asian in this bar."

"You're the only Asian in this bar? What!" Patrick's shoulders started to loosen up and he couldn't help but enjoy staring at Sandy.

"Oh, so you do have a sense of humor hidden behind that usually sulky nature. Wonder of all fucking wonders."

Patrick blew out a puff of air, still not ready to talk about his sulky nature, but maybe he should offer something. "Wasn't at my best today," he muttered. "Sorry about that explosion earlier. That wasn't professional of me." His cell chirped from his back pocket. Relieved to have an excuse to move on, he pulled it out and looked at the screen. "Chelsea says check the weather."

Sandy slid his phone out of his jacket. "Holy crap. This can't be right. This kind of unexpected snow storm is unheard-of."

Patrick drummed his fingers on the tabletop. "What kind of vehicle do you have?"

"Prius. Why?"

Patrick's shoulders shook with suppressed laughter. Of course, he does. "Looks like you're stuck here."

The corners of Sandy's mouth turned up as he looked away for a moment. "Any Airbnbs around these parts?"

"Not a chance." Patrick sipped his beer. "You could . . . stay at my house."

Sandy's head whipped backward. His eyes held Patrick's.

Leaning his arms on the table, Patrick reminded himself that Sandy was an employee. "I have a guest room." He could have been wrong, but he swore Sandy deflated a bit at that information.

"Yeah, that'll work. I might have to raid your wardrobe because I have nothing with me. Do you have anything other than flannel? Oh, and Moonshine will need some food . . . Are you sure about this?"

He wagged a hand back and forth to let Sandy know he had his doubts about the offer, but it wasn't a big deal. He'd let the flannel dig slide for now. "Once the snow clears out, I can drive you into the city and you can get your stuff."

The brows on Sandy furrowed. "I'm not altogether helpless."

"Does your Prius have a big blade in the front for you to plow through this snowstorm? Or chains on the tires?"

Patrick thought the high-pitched squeak Sandy made as he looked at the ceiling was ridiculous and a little cute. "That's what I thought. You should think about staying in town while you're working at the store. It'd save you money, and you wouldn't be risking life and limb by traveling back and forth. My guest room is free if you want it. You're welcome anytime."

Sandy appeared to take a longer drink than normal. "I'll think about it. But only if you tell me what happened today."

Patrick wiped a hand across his face and hung his head before downing his beer. He nodded at Sam across the barroom, requesting refills for them.

"Oof, it must be something horrible."

The weariness that had subsided now came roaring back. Hopefully, the beer would dull that soon. "We're being evicted." Patrick didn't know what possessed him to tell this stranger about the problems with the store. It wasn't like him to divulge confidential information so freely. Hell, his dad didn't even know yet. "I shouldn't have said anything . . . "

Sandy reached across the table and placed his hand over Patrick's. "Hey, who am I going to tell? Moonshine? Even if I did, she's like a vault." Sandy threw a thumb over his shoulder where Moonshine lounged.

Patrick welcomed the warmth of Sandy's hand on his. He couldn't help being amused at the joke. He could use more laughter in his life. The hair on his arm stood up. I like him. No. Damn it. Employee. He slid his hand out from under Sandy's.

Sam swung by and delivered their drinks. "These shots are on the house because it's taken me forever to clear your table." She scooped up the plates and debris and scooted away.

Sandy held up his shot glass and Patrick clinked his. Together they downed the Jameson.

Sandy's features twisted up at the whiskey. "And, you know, Chelsea's an extremely loyal friend to you, so if you did share this with them, I'd bet they'd be willing to brainstorm some ideas. And they're not the only one. The community really rallied this morning. One minute it was dead and then BOOM—packed."

Glancing around at the people in the bar, Patrick saw familiar faces. They didn't have to be here either, but they came out to put money back into the community to support one another collectively. Even if it was only for a beer or a soda, it mattered.

Sandy patted his hand. "The people in this town are amazing, which brings me to this: I took a ton of photos today. Let me plaster the site with them and post on social media."

That sounded reasonable, but Patrick's stomach turned at the idea of bringing the subject up to his dad. His dad's business ideals that were old fashioned. And these changes would have to be at both stores.

"Also, and this is a little bit bigger, but what if the community did a small business Saturday or whenever? It could be any day, but I'd think you'd want a weekend to really drive the sales. Maybe do virtual coupons, and there have to be hotels or something within decent driving distance so that people could come for the entire weekend or even overnight?" Excited at the idea, Sandy wiggled in his chair.

Patrick held a hand up to get Sandy to slow down on his plans. "Wait a minute. This would take a lot of coordinating with the town council and all our businesses. And even if we have the time to implement something like that before Christmas, I doubt the town has the kind of money required to put into an aggressive operation like this. We can't do something like this overnight."

Sandy made a slurping sound with his straw as he sucked the last of his drink from the very bottom of the glass. He inhaled a deep breath. "I'm getting ahead of myself. How about we pump things up online first? And save the idea of a small business plan for later."

These initiatives could be great for the entire community, but there wasn't enough time. Patrick downed the rest of his beer. The store was scrambling as it was, so an immediate sales boost is what he needed now. And the other thing was having this conversation with his dad. That would be a tough sell.

"Hey, I don't know about you, but these drinks are hitting me, and Moonshine looks tired. She worked her ass off today."

Patrick agreed with his drinking companion and headed to the bar for the bill.

"Wait. Let me Venmo you or give you some cash." Sandy stood to get his phone and wallet out of his various pockets.

Patrick shook his head. "We talked business. I can write it off."

Outside the bar, Patrick zipped his jacket up to his chin. The snow was really coming down now. He couldn't remember when they'd ever had a storm like this one.

"Where are you parked?" Sandy asked.

"My vehicle's at home. We're within walking distance."

Sandy moved to Patrick's right side with Moonshine. "Ah ha, you walk everywhere, don't you?"

"It's a fast commute. We just go down the street and then through the park, and we'll be there." He pointed in the direction that they were headed.

"Do you seriously like living in a small town?" Sandy adjusted his earmuffs.

He dug his hands deep into his pockets. "Honestly, I never had much choice in the matter. It's the family business. The Mayfield location is the second one we opened. It kinda made me angry in the beginning, but then I got used to it. I was born in Madison, which is a college town, so I was raised on city energy. It took a while to acclimate to a rural setting. Slowing down and focusing on work and the people. Geez, this sounds pitiful."

"Not at all. And everyone loves you here and the store."

"My family's important to me, and making them proud is something that I want to do even as an adult." Patrick kicked a clump of snow out of the way for Sandy who smiled at the gallant effort.

"I get that. But didn't you feel like you were missing out on having fun?"

He gave a half-hearted shrugged. "I think I was always like this—responsible. Even in college, I went to class. I went to parties. I stayed in control." He glanced over at his walking partner. "I bet you were wild in college."

"Oh my hells, you don't even want to know." Sandy bumped him in the shoulder and a cheeky look crossed his features. "I bet you weren't boring and uptight all the time."

"Maybe not." Patrick bent down and scooped up some snow, tossing it at Sandy.

Sandy stopped in his tracks and dropped Moonshine's leash. "Oh, it's like that, is it?" Sandy packed snow into a ball as Patrick ran ahead.

Maybe because of Sandy's sharp was of dressing, Patrick didn't think he'd be all that great at snowball fights, so he only put five feet in between them. As he turned to smirk, an icy missile hit him right in the forehead. Not one to be taken down by the first salvo, Patrick spun quickly and grabbed snow and pelted Sandy's shoulder. They went back and forth until both were out of breath.

Barking at the two men, Moonshine finally stopped beside Sandy, who gathered her leash.

Sandy joined Patrick on the sidewalk, Moonshine managed to run around them in a circle, tangling them in her leash. In one fantastical tug, Sandy lost his balance and fell on top of Patrick into a pile of snow.

Surprised, Patrick belted out a belly laugh as he held Sandy in his arms, while his heart ached as a feeling of longing fired through him.

Sandy's eyes widened and he joined in the laughter.

"I guess Moonshine wanted to win the snowball fight?" Sandy shifted his weight, moving himself up onto his arms.

Warm breath fluttered across Patrick's cheek. He needed to move quickly otherwise he feared he'd do something extremely stupid like kiss Sandy. "She doesn't fight fair." Patrick moved forward, accidently clunking Sandy's head.

They both winced at the contact.

Sandy rolled onto the ground next to him, rubbing his temple.

"Dog one, humans zero." Patrick blinked his eyes open and closed. He bit the end of his glove, sliding it off his hand. Then he lifted the hair off Sandy's temple, inspecting the lump. The pink skin caused a tingle to run through him. "Are you good?"

Sandy winced. "You have a thick head."

Patrick put his glove back on and got to his feet. He held out his hand to Sandy. "That was fun."

"See, you know how to show a guy a good time." Sandy crinkled his nose up. "That sounded dirtier than I meant it."

"Although that's accurate." Patrick picked up Moonshine's leash and handed it to Sandy. The dog looked pleased with herself.

"And so modest."

Patrick shrugged. He couldn't stop a sly smile from appearing as they continued to move through the park. The snowflake shaped lights and giant decorated pine trees provided a magical glow on their trek.

Sandy spun around as they crossed a small bridge leading over a creek. "Is this place for real? I mean this is like some Thomas Kinkade-type dreamland. I almost can't believe it."

As they walked, Patrick took in his surroundings. It had been a long time since he really looked at the park and the decorations. The beauty of it all had been lost on him at some point. Seeing it through Sandy's eyes made him see how lucky he was to be in a place that celebrated the spirit of the holidays. "You're not hallucinating. Mayfield is a unique place during the holidays. It's been a while since I've been in Chicago in December. Do you have special parties and events to attend this time of the year?"

"Usually, I visit with my mom and step pop—get some food, exchange gifts. My best friend, Julia, and I normally go all out, but she's abroad this year. Parades, seeing the lights, ice skating—which is a massive mistake for my BFF since she's like Bambi on ice. Total hot mess. Although, the spiked hot cocoa afterwards helps. What we don't get is this peacefulness. The quiet. Anywhere you go in the city is noisy and jam-packed with people. It's nice getting away from that this year. How about you?"

"My family either comes down or I drive up to Wisconsin. It's always a half a day celebration because of our day post-Christmas sale at the stores. This year we're doing an employee dinner after the holidays. You should join us."

"Do I have to bring a dish to pass?" Sandy grimaced.

"Not a fan of cooking?"

"It's an either or with me—either it turns out or it doesn't."

Chuckling under his breath, Patrick retrieved his key from his jacket pocket. Sandy and Moonshine entered the picket fence's gate first. "Careful on that slick walk." The automatic outside light flashed on.

"Your house is beautiful. I love this classic brick with a hint of modern. The wood accents are to die for." Sandy's eyes shined brightly.

"Thank you. It took me a while to finish all the updates." Beaming at the compliment, Patrick stomped the snow off his boots on the welcome mat and moved to get the door.

"You're a man of many talents," Sandy's voice dipped low.

Patrick's chest lifted with pride. Take it easy. It's a compliment not a marriage proposal. Inside the foyer, he ushered Sandy and Moonshine into the house. He closed out the biting cold as quick as possible.

With a flick of a light, he made a sweeping gesture around the interior. "This is the open living room and kitchen. To the left, down that small hall is the guest room and bath. To the right of the kitchen is my room." Patrick slipped out of his jacket and hung it in the closet. He held out his hand for Sandy's jacket and stuff.

Sandy sat down on the little bench by the door and took off his boots, scooting them under the bench next to Patrick's. "Do you have a towel for her? She picks up all the snow."

Moonshine sneezed as if offended.

"Don't argue with me. You're like a mop."

With his hands on his hips, Patrick studied the two of them, delighted to have their company. These two are something else. Adorable. "Gimme me a second." He ran stocking-footed to his bathroom and dug out an old towel.

When he jogged back into the room, Sandy and Moonshine were waiting patiently. He handed the cloth over to Sandy who dried off Moonshine's do.

Bored and ready for action, Moonshine slipped out of Sandy's grasp and joined Patrick in the kitchen.

"I guess I was done drying her off," Sandy huffed. "Wow. This kitchen," he ran a hand over a countertop.

The exposed brick along with the stained cabinets gave the room a rugged look. A skylight above added natural light to the room, brightening the space.

Patrick grabbed a step stool and started opening cupboards. Slightly off balance, he wobbled. I guess I had more to drink than usual tonight.

Sandy came up behind him. "What are you doing?"

"Looking for the dog bowls." Stretching his arm out, he shifted stuff around in the back of the highest shelf.

"You had a dog?"

"Yup, an ancient labrador named Todd. He died a couple of years ago. I should've put him down before he got decrepit, but I didn't have the heart to do it. He used to come to the store with me every day. Mostly he'd snore in my office until it was time for us to go home." He balanced on his tippy toes and caught hold of the dishes. Sandy placed a steadying hand on his back. That tiny kindness and personal touch caused his pulse to pick up speed. Once his feet returned to solid ground, he came face to face with the guy who still had his hand on him.

Sandy's gaze roamed freely over Patrick like he was a peppermint stick he'd love to consume.

Without thinking it through, he followed his instincts, leaned forward and kissed Sandy. But just maybe it had something to do with how mesmerizing he looked standing in Patrick's moonlit kitchen.