Chapter 2

CHAPTER TWO

CALLIE

I wipe my hands down the length of my apron as I head back to the kitchen area. “We need more burgers.” Glenn looks up at me from his place in front of the griddle and swears as grease from the hot beef patties splatters in the air.

I put my empty tray on the ledge. “My brother-in-law called a little while ago. He said his group wasn’t pulling any fish with size in, but another group was catching a ton of keepers already today.”

Glenn nods. “You tell Bill and everyone fishing on team Doon that we’ll keep cooking free burgers and fries. Remember to rustle up some guys for tomorrow though. We’ve got that semi-truck stopping in the morning with a load of ice for the fish and more water if we can get some volunteers to take it over to the tents tomorrow.”

“I’ll tell ‘em. In the meantime, let me have those burgers. We have hungry mouths to feed.”

Glenn’s bright blue eyes shine brighter than his bald head when the light hits it. “Bossy you are, Callie. That’s why I hired you. You keep us all in line.”

My lips turn up in a smile. “And don’t you forget it, either.”

He lays the sizzling patties onto buns before closing them, adding fries to the plates and loading my tray up. “I wouldn’t dare. Knock off when you can. That semi-truck will be here at the crack of dawn.”

Laden with my heavy tray, I grin on the way out to the tables because it’s not everyone who can say their boss cares as much as Glenn. Any community event going on and he’s all-in, right along with the rest of us.

Blake, Grady, and Dawson are sitting together at a table not far from the bar. I try not to interrupt their conversation as I lay their plates down in front of them. “Glenn said these are on the house. I swear that man would give the shirt off of his back. How’d the fishing go today?”

Blake takes a drink of his beer. “Caught a few but nothing spectacular. The whole river is full of boats though. You literally have to see it to believe it. Best fishing in three counties around,” he boasts proudly.

My brother-in-law, Bill joins the group and snags a french fry off Dawson’s plate before sliding into an open seat. “Thought I’d drive over and join you for a little bit tonight. I’m not going to make it out in the morning. I need to stay with the kids tomorrow. The sitter turned sick and Linda has a meeting with a bunch of investors in the area.”

More city slickers, always trying to move in and buy our land. Every last one of those high rolling billionaires want to waltz in here and gobble up the land so they can sell it for a mint or fly in for a weekend, and then not set foot in town again for a month, or sometimes a year.

The boisterous voices of the patrons in the bar drown the reporter’s voice coming from the television above the bar, but it’s hard not to follow the captions. The fishing contest is being reported by all the local news stations and not many of us don’t know at least a few people fishing in the biggest tournament of the year.

The bell over the door of the bar jangles alerting me that we have another customer.

I glance up the length of the stranger and into the deepest grey smoldering eyes I’ve ever seen. I should avert my gaze, but he doesn’t move from the doorframe, or look away either. Instead, he arches an eyebrow, slowly taking in the long greasy green apron, jeans, and worn-in leather boots on my feet.

My cheeks flame as I drag my eyes away from the handsome devil, quickly returning to the kitchen as more orders are called out. Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome must be in town for the fishing contest. He is definitely not from town. I’d recall those eyes, chiseled features, and those well-defined muscles just pulsing right below that form fitting t-shirt and especially those snug fitting jeans. Good lord, I’d remember that.