talking, her eyes wide. “He’s a widower, isn’t he?”
I shrug one shoulder, taking the drawing back and folding it up into my back pocket. “Yeah.”
Though I want to follow him and demand he tell me what that was all about, I don’t. Fletcher doesn’t say anything when he leaves either.
Presley finds me next, smiling. “What’d I miss? Is that his kid?”
Again, I nod, but I don’t expand on any of it. I know who I can get answers from for now, and he’s going to talk to me about it.
Avie is at his desk when I barge in and close the door behind me. He briefly looks up from his phone and then back down. “What?”
“How well do you know Fletcher?”
He groans. “Not this again. I told you to stay out of it.”
“I know you did, but I’m assuming Fletcher is Lincoln’s dad.”
“I don’t know if he is,” he tells me, a sour edge to his tone. His lips press into a hard line. “I know he has a few sons, but I don’t know who they are.”
I stare at the photograph of our parents on the wall behind his desk. “So why’d he give us forty thousand dollars so we didn’t lose the bar?”
“He just did. Fletch has been coming here since we were kids. He didn’t want me to lose it, so he gave us the money. End of story. He told me not to ask questions, and I didn’t. You shouldn’t either.”
My heart does flip flops in my chest. “You don’t find it a bit odd that he gave us the money, and now his son is fucking me?”
“You don’t know that Lincoln is Fletcher’s son. You’re just assuming because the kid called him dad. And I told you not to mess around with that guy. But you didn’t listen.”
“And I told you not to sleep with Presley. A few times.”
Groaning, he leans back into the chair, his hands in his hair. “I got work to do. And so do you. We’ll talk later.”
Slapping my hands to my knees, I stand with an exaggerated motion. “Whatever.”
My shift goes by agonizingly slow, and while I attempt to get answers from Bear, who remains at the bar through dinner with two other guys, he gives me nothing to go on. Other than yeah, Lincoln has a kid and his wife died. “You’re not being very helpful,” I tell Bear when he pays for his tab.
He keeps his eyes on Mal, who he’s been flirting with all night long. “I’ll give you his phone number if you give me hers.” He gestures with a nod to Mal.
I look over my shoulder, then back to Bear. “I can’t do that.” Clearing my throat, I try to ease the awkwardness from my voice. “She has kids and no time for a one-night stand?”
His brow dips, his eyes narrowing. “Who says I’m looking for just a one-night stand.”
“Just a guess.” I smile, playing off my nervousness. “Judging by your brother’s history.”
Running a hand over his face, he lets out a chuckle. “C’mon, honey.” Leaning into the bar, he reaches for a coaster and flips it over before he steals my pen from my pocket on my apron around my waist. Pulling the cap off with his mouth, he scribbles a number and then covers it with his hand. “Ya gonna tell me?”
“Fuck, fine.” I take another coaster and write Mal’s number on it. She’s going to kill me. “But if you just fuck her and run, I’m going to hunt you down and do something really bad to you.”
“Uh-huh. Who says she doesn’t fuck me and run?”
I consider it. “Then that’s her problem.”
“Fair enough.” He slides the coaster over to me. “Go easy on him.”
“Why?” Not that I was planning on ripping the dude a new one over not telling me he had a kid, but I’m curious about his choice of words.
Leaning in, his eyes smile before he does. They’re sincere when he says, “He’s a really good guy but has a rough exterior.”
Before I can interrogate him more, Bear leaves, and I pull Mal aside, untying my apron from around my waist. “I’ve got bad news. Or maybe good news.”
She frowns, tucking strands of her hair behind her ear. “You’re not pregnant, are you?”
“What? No. Why?”
She sets a bottle of gin back on the shelf after making a gin and tonic for a customer seated at the bar. “The last time I had bad news,” she side-eyes me, “it came with