Sassy Blonde - Stacey Kennedy Page 0,20
skies are so blue,” Maisie sang to the music blasting through the speakers the next morning. She sat next to Hayes in his big-ass loud truck, while he drove down the sunbaked road, looking like some hunk out of a country music video. She’d offered to drive the brewery’s truck but got a flat no. He hooked his truck up to the trailer with the THREE CHICKS BREWERY logo written on the side and off they went to their first stop, Fort Collins. He’d rolled down the windows almost immediately, forgoing the air conditioning on the blistering hot day, so she stuck her feet out the window, the sun warming her toes. “Sweet home Alabama. Lord, I’m coming home—hey!” She shot Hayes a glare when he turned the volume down. “I love that song. Turn it back up.”
Hayes put his cowboy hat on the dash. “Sorry to tell you this, but we’re nearly at the festival.” He glanced sidelong at her, arching a brow before turning his attention back onto the road. “It might be useful to stop singing and talk about what’s ahead of us tonight.”
She shuddered, invisible creepy crawlers rushing across her skin. “Ew, you sound like Clara. Take that back right now.”
His loud laugh filled the cab of the truck. “The fault of that lies on your shoulders. You’ve brought me into this. Now I can’t fail, or I’ll have to face your sister’s wrath.”
Maisie laughed, wiggling her toes against the hot breeze brushing over them. True. She loved Clara, but her older sister could destroy anyone’s personal armor with a single look. “Okay, you’re right,” Maisie hedged, pulling her feet back into the truck and sitting cross-legged on the seat. “We probably should talk about what’s ahead of us.” She reached into her tote bag with all her art supplies.
“Whatever happened to that?”
She glanced up, finding Hayes gesturing at her tote.
“Back in the day, I remember you wanting to open up an art studio.”
Her heart squeezed. “You remember that?”
“Why wouldn’t I?” he asked, eyes on the road. “You and Laurel talked about it for a year straight in our living room.”
The reminder of her past life with Laurel didn’t hurt like it used to. Now warmth touched those cold, grief-stricken places, and she noticed over the last few months, Hayes could talk easily about Laurel too, recalling all the love, the joy Laurel had brought to their lives. For as long as Maisie could remember, she and Laurel had talked about opening the studio together. Well, a coffee shop/art studio that, even though it didn’t sound like it would fit in town, they’d planned to make work.
“Plans changed,” she told him, knowing he’d understand.
And he did. “Yeah, they do.” He scrubbed a hand over his face.
An ache filled her chest, and she wished that were something they didn’t have in common. “I haven’t even thought about the art studio in so long. It’s kinda one of those dreams that wasn’t ever meant to be,” she explained. “The brewery is my life now.”
Out the window, wind feathered through the wild grass and crops as he gave her a quick look. “A bit of a shame. You’re so talented.”
“Thanks.” She smiled. “But it’s a hobby now, nothing more. My sisters have a lot on their plates, and I haven’t been helping their stress.” She opened her notebook. “I’ve got to keep doing my part to make the brewery a success.”
“You’re on your way to the festival, aren’t you? I’d say you’re doing your part.”
She chuckled, flipping through a bunch of papers trying to find the one where she’d made notes about the festival. “Let’s have that conversation at the end of the festivals after we’ve nailed this.”
“What exactly are you looking for in there?”
She flipped over a few more pages of doodles. “I made notes about what we need to do, just have to find them.”
His soft laugh drew her gaze. “That is how you keep notes?”
She glanced down at the ripped-out pages, covered in paint. “Hey! One woman’s mess is another woman’s treasure.”
He gestured to her notebook. “Those notes are your treasure?”
“Damn right they are,” she said, lifting her chin. “Ah, here it is. Okay, we’ve got three festivals. First one, as you already know, is in Fort Collins, then we hit Colorado Springs, and Boulder to finish up.”
He nodded, taking that in. “Tell me why these three festivals are important for the brewery?”
“They’re the three biggest festivals in Colorado. It’s a great way to market beer