Chapter 15: Lottie

I can't believe I agreed to come to karaoke night. I'll admit, dinner was a lot of fun. Dottie joined us and introduced her son, Jared, who looks the same age as her. I still don't know what kind of magic she possesses to look so youthful.

It's eight thirty when we walk through the front door of the local watering hole, Blue Moon . The bar is already half-filled with people. Some I've seen around town, and some I haven't. Thankfully, karaoke doesn't start till nine, and I don't see Dottie yet, so I have enough time to have a few drinks and hide out in a corner where no one will notice me.

Ginger leads me to the bar along the back wall, passing by two billiards tables, a few dart boards, and cocktail tables. There are booths against the right wall and a small stage in the back corner where I assume karaoke takes place. No doubt, it's also where live music plays from time to time.

We perch on tall barstools where my feet dangle, and I rest them on the bar rail. The smooth wooden bar under my hands is clean and lacks the sticky, unpleasant texture most bar tops always seem to possess. Behind the counter, one of the most gorgeous women I've ever seen mixes drinks without even looking, adding flourishes and bottle spins effortlessly. Her cobalt blue hair floats around her brown mocha skin in fluffy waves as she spins a bottle full of alcohol in her hand and pours a generous helping into the glass.

Ginger calls to the woman who waves with her free hand and finishes the drink she's making before walking over to greet us.

"Evelyn, this is Lottie. Lottie, this is the best mixologist you'll ever meet. Her drinks are to die for."

"Well, I don't know about all that, but I do like to play around with ingredients. It's nice to meet you, Lottie. I've heard gossip around town about this mystery woman staying in Hunter's cabin. It's nice to finally put a face to the name." Extending her hand, I shake it quickly in greeting. Noticing her nails are painted the same cobalt blue as her hair.

"Nothing negative, I hope."

"Not in the least."

Evelyn's smile is wide and genuine. Up close, her skin appears to shimmer in the low light as if she's covered in body glitter, but like two days later, after you've tried to wash it off but a layer still remains. Her eyes are so bright, light blue, that I wonder if they're contacts. Either way, the combination of hair color, skin tone, and eye color is striking.

For a petite woman, she carries herself like an Amazonian queen. Strong and confident, shoulders back and chin high. And not in the false way I used to do while walking onto a stage to perform when I just wanted to turn and run away.

Over the last few years, performing has become more of a mechanical action for me. Robotic, if you will. I'd plaster on the smile, do the dance moves, and sing the songs, rarely feeling the emotions I displayed while on stage or that were being portrayed in the music. I'd become so disconnected from it all. It was painful, loathing the thing I had loved so much. All I want is to enjoy music again. Being here in Snowberry has made falling back in love with music easier. To feel more than numb.

Right now, though, I'm not feeling the music, and if someone tries to force me to sing karaoke, I may have to fake a stomach bug and sneak out the back. Possibly explosive diarrhea if they don't believe me.

"What can I get for you two lovely ladies tonight?"

"We would like two blue moons, please," Ginger orders for us.

I have no idea what's in a blue moon, and I don't care as long as it contains alcohol.

"Coming right up."

Evelyn grabs two shot glasses and a few bottles from the bar, free-pouring alcohol and other mixers without measuring, adding something blue to tint the clear liquid.

"Oh hey, looks who's here," Ginger nudges my elbow and points with her chin behind me.

I turn in my seat to see Hunter and Ryder sliding into a booth on the opposite side of the bar. They just arrived, and Ryder keeps his eyes trained on his brother, his back towards us. But Hunter's gaze catches on mine as if he knew exactly where I was.

A breath catches in my throat as heat washes over me. My nipples pucker under my dress at the sudden, unexpected arousal. Since when could a glance turn me on?

The temperatures have been dropping day by day, but it isn't the cooling air that causes goosebumps to pebble across my exposed skin. Ginger came over to pick me up before dinner and insisted I wear the one semi-casual cocktail dress I brought. The hem hits mid- to low thigh, making it a little more demure than the miniskirts I wore back in Cali. The material is silk chiffon in a soft robin's egg blue. The natural waistline balances the lower neckline, creating a sexy but modest look.

We're in a local small-town bar, not a high-end rooftop nightclub in Vegas. I don't need flashy or glitzy here. Even in what I would consider a casual look, I can tell I'm still a bit overdressed compared to the rest of the crowd. There are some women in dresses, but they're relaxed and informal.

Under Hunter's attentive gaze, the dress doesn't make a difference; I feel naked. Like he can see through any fabric I could place over my body.

Hunter's chest rises and falls in a deep breath I can see even from across the bar and the heat in his eyes intensifies. I swivel on my seat and look away before I do something stupid, like swoon so hard I fall off my seat and flat on my ass on the floor.

Yeah, let's not do that. I'm supposed to be flying under the radar, not drawing attention to myself.

My drink, a blue moon, sits on the bar in front of me. It's definitely blue, but it's also smoking and . . . glowing? That can't be right; I have to be seeing things. It's just the colored lights over the bar making it appear to be bioluminescent. Right?

Lifting the glass, I stare at it in awe, trying to discern how the hell they managed to make it smoke and glow without adding anything else—not even a clump of dry ice.

"This is amazing. How did you make it do that?"

Evelyn grins, spreading her arms wide on the bar and watching me in amusement.

"A mixologist never reveals her secrets," she says.

"I thought that was magicians?"

"Them too."

I take an experimental sip of the smoking blue moon. It's sweet, then sour, and then it burns on the way down in the best way.

"Holy crap, that's good."

"Careful," Ginger warns. "They're stronger than they seem. It'll sneak up on you if you're not careful."

Against her own advice, Ginger takes a large swallow of her blue moon before grinning at me. I take another drink, too, this one larger than my first, but I sit my glass down on the bar afterward to keep from drinking too much. I can already feel the warmth growing in my chest and trickling down to my stomach.

"What do you say we go say hello to my brothers?"

"Oh, I don't know . . ." I start to rebuff but don't get the chance to finish when Ginger stands and strides right over to her brother's table. "Okay, I guess we're going over."

Steeling my spine and trying to push down my growing attraction to Hunter, I slide off my stool, bringing my blue moon with me. My sneakered feet land on the floor, and I smooth my skirt down my backside, making sure not to flash anyone unintentionally.

My white Prada sneakers are soundless as I make my way over to the booth. Ginger's already seated next to Ryder, leaving the seat next to Hunter wide open just for me.

I slide into the booth, and even with Hunter scooting all the way in my thigh still brushes his denim-clad one under the table. I feel it tense, and I shiver.

Hunter smells amazing. That same woodsy, leathery musk from when he drove me to his parents last night. I don't know what it is about him specifically, but the smell of him only makes my arousal intensify.

"Hello, Lottie. Are you having a good night?" Hunter asks in his gravely baritone.

"So far."

"Good."

We sit awkwardly side by side, looking but not looking at each other. My fingers mindlessly fidget with my glass, trying not to pick it up and chug the blue drink to give myself a bit of liquid courage. Hunter doesn't have a drink yet, so his hands rest on the table folded tightly in front of him.

Our uncomfortable silence is broken when a server approaches to take the guys' drink order. They both order beers and once again, when the server leaves, we return to our wordless staring. Ryder doesn't seem the least bit uncomfortable with the silence. I think he rather prefers it. Ginger also doesn't seem bothered by it because she's busy shifting her bright eyes between Hunter and me, suppressing a grin. She's either trying not to speak to see how long we let this go or is trying to decide what to say to make this even more awkward. I don't have to wait long to find out which.

"Doesn't Lottie look pretty tonight, Hunter? When I saw that dress in her closet, I told her she just had to wear it." Ginger props her chin on her palm, elbow on the table, a teasing, playful grin spreading across her lips.

She's staring at Hunter, waiting for him to reply while I turn beat red from ear to toe. Poor Hunter flusters next to me but only takes a moment to recover and pull himself together.

"Yes, she does. It's a very lovely dress." Hunter turns to look down at me, running his gaze quickly down and back up. "It was a perfect choice."

The blush that started with Ginger's question now intensifies, but this time, I smile. My heart flutters in delight instead of embarrassment.

"Thank you, Hunter."

"You're welcome."

The server returns with the guy's beers, and after we all partake in our drinks, the conversation begins far less awkwardly this time. We talk about dinner at Dottie's and upcoming plans for the week, of which I have none—other than meeting with Sophie to learn how to cook.

"I can't believe you burnt toast. You literally just turn the nob down to a lower setting, and that's it. Burning toast has to be intentional."

"Well, I'm sorry I'm not a toast connoisseur, okay. I never really had to cook before. Someone else always did it. Cooking is just not my forte. I'm hoping maybe a few lessons with your mom can give me enough knowledge to make basic meals, so I don't always have to order takeout."

Ginger laughs openly, relaxing more with each sip of her drink. I'm following right along behind her, drinking slowly but feeling the warming effects of the alcohol.

"Mom will definitely teach you a thing or two. She is an excellent cook."

"Well, I look forward to not burning my toast anymore. Cereal gets real boring real fast."

Hunter, who had remained quiet but attentive, finally eases into the conversation, and I feel the previous weirdness drifting away. The easy friendship and camaraderie freely given by these siblings makes me feel like a real friend and part of their community.

"If you're looking for a good breakfast, you should try Morning Star Café. Their breakfast platters are exceptional."

Ginger and even Ryder nod in agreement. I haven't investigated the café yet and am going to have to now. Even if Hunter's mom teaches me how to cook properly, I don't think it'll ever be a skill I perfect.

Halfway through our drinks, a blur of pink twirls up to our table. It isn't until she stops that I realize it's Becca, the waitress from Dottie's, rolling up on her skates. Different from the pure white ones she was wearing before, these ones are pale pink, with each wheel being a different pastel color.

"Hey, Ginger, Lottie, boys. What are y'all doin' over here sitting around? I thought we were gonna play some pool?"

We had told Becca our plans for the evening when we were eating dinner. She mentioned meeting us here to play a few games of pool with us, but Seeing Hunter made me completely forget about it.

"Of course we are," Ginger agrees happily. "But that makes an odd number; we need four to play teams." She gives her brother a knowing smirk from across the table.

"How about it, Hunt? You willing to join us for a game?"

Hunter doesn't answer immediately, Ginger doesn't flinch, and Becca pouts, hoping to sway him with a sappy face and large stuck-out bottom lip. He ignores them both and looks at me. I give him a soft, reassuring smile.

"You can be Lottie's partner," Ginger adds in a sing-song voice.

"Sure, sounds great," he finally agrees, and my heart does a little pitter patter.

"Woohoo! Let's go before someone else nabs the open table."

Becca rolls away, and I watch the redhead in her skintight jeans and roller skates wheeling towards the empty billiards table. Moving so smoothly, it's almost as if she's gliding on an invisible wind, barely having to propel herself along.

"Does she wear those skates all the time?" I ask Ginger. "I thought they were just part of her uniform for Dottie's?"

"Oh, they were. She just decided she liked wearing them a little too much, and now she wears them practically everywhere. We've all kind of gotten used to it."

Ginger shrugs and slides out of the booth, and Hunter and I follow suit. Ryder remains silently sitting in the booth as we carry our glasses to a table near the pool table, claiming it as ours, and begin setting up for the game. Hunter stands next to me as we choose cue sticks.

"Have you played before?" he asks as I test the weight of one of the sticks.

"A few times."

I've played far more than a few times, but I've learned it's best not to brag to a man about how much better you are at something than them. Hurts their masculine pride.

"Are you two ready to play, or are we going to stand around all night?" Becca calls from behind us.

We choose our sticks and turn to meet her and Ginger at the table, where they've already begun racking the balls.

"What are we playing?" Hunter asks.

"Straight pool. Nothing fancy, basic rules. Rotating each turn between team members."

"And what do we get if we win?"

Ginger laughs, leaning on the table for support. The idea of us winning the most hysterical thing she's heard, apparently.

"You want to make a wager?" she asks incredulously through her chuckles, staring at Hunter with disbelief. "You're a shit player. It wouldn't be fair to bet against us. I only partnered you with Lottie because I thought it might get you two close. Not because you could win."

Hunter scowls and grumbles low in his chest, frowning at his sister. Her lips quirk in a teasing grin.

"Is that so?" I insert myself between the two siblings, leaning on my stick like a magical staff, one hand propped on my hip in challenge.

Ginger raises an eyebrow at me, intrigued. "Yeah. That's so."

"Well, I think we could beat you."

Leaning close enough to my ear, I can feel his breath fan across my skin. Hunter whispers, "Are you sure about this, Lottie? I really am a shit player. I was just trying to have a little fun."

When I turn to look him in the eyes, our noses brush and he leans back a fraction so we're not touching but close enough that one small movement would cause us to kiss. I try to ignore the heat pooling in my gut and the ache between my thighs. It doesn't completely work but it's enough that I can speak.

"Yeah. I got this."

Hunter inclines his head and straightens at my side, prepared to stand by me at my word. I like that he trusts in me so freely and doesn't try to argue. He just waits patiently, supportively.

I look back to Ginger, who looks as happy as a clam. She thinks she's going to win. Hunter must be a really horrible player. I wonder why he agreed to play then if he was just going to embarrass himself?

"Great. And what shall we wager?" she asks, twisting the cue stick between her fingers rolling the smooth wood back and forth.

Normally I would wager money, but that doesn't seem appropriate. So, I look to Hunter for assistance. He's beaming at his sister with malicious glee.

"If we win, I don't change the oil in your car anymore. Or the coolant or anything else for that matter. You have to take it to the auto shop like a normal person or do it yourself."

Ginger's smile falls, and she glowers at her brother, her eyes squinting dangerously in his direction. That doesn't seem like a big deal to me, but from the look on her face there's something else to it that I'm not getting.

"And if I win," she begins, keeping her fiery gaze locked on Hunter. "You have to sing karaoke. Song of my choice."

My body goes rigid, and my heart sinks to the pit of my stomach.

I told her I didn't want to sing.

"Both of us?" I ask shakily.

"No. Just him. He never has, and I want to hear his lovely singing voice."

My racing heart eases back into a normal rhythm, and I breathe a sigh of relief. Even if we lose—which we won't—it will only be Hunter on stage. I can live with that.

"Agreed." Hunter reaches out a hand and shakes Ginger's; Becca and I watch on as the siblings have a silent stare-off, not sure if they even remember we're still here. This seems to have become something between them, and that's fine with me. I'm just here to have a little fun with new friends, that's all.

We all take up our positions, and Ginger waves to the racked balls on the table.

"Age before beauty."

Hunter snickers and shakes his head, turning those baby blues on me. They're lighter, softer than when he was standing off with his sister.

"Would you like to do the honors? As I said, I'm not the best."

One side of my lips curls up, and I internally apologize in advance to Ginger because she is not prepared for what's about to happen. I may be horrible at cooking, but years spent hiding out in my house with no one to keep me company and too much time on my hands gave me ample opportunity to perfect my billiards skills.

"I would love to."

Hunter steps out of the way and leans back against the wall nearby behind me. I ignore his watchful gaze and instead focus on Ginger and Becca on the opposite side of the table, waiting patiently to see what happens.

Lining up my shot, I get the cue ball right where I want it, sliding the stick through my fingers until I know I have the right amount of speed and strength. I snap the point of the stick against the white polished cue ball, and it spurs into action. Rolling across the green felt it smacks into the other balls with a loud crack.

The balls scatter wide, and two sink into pockets right away. Stripes.

"Holy shit." I hear Hunter's stunned surprise behind me, but I watch as realization washes over Ginger's face. Her snarky arrogance and smug smile vanish in mere seconds.

I line up my next shot and sink one more ball before I scratch, and it's their turn. A deep, throaty chuckle tickles my spine as I go to stand by Hunter.

"You're a freaking shark," Becca blurts, laughing lightly, not nearly as upset about it as Ginger.

"Why didn't you tell me you were so good at pool?" Ginger mopes.

"You didn't ask."