Tequila Rose (Tequila Rose #1) - Willow Winters Page 0,51

smile pulls my lips up and there’s a warmth in my chest as I stare at the phone screen, both my hands wrapped around it.

My head falls back against the pillow and that’s when Renee says, “It is him, and you’re all gooey inside.”

I like kissing you too.

“So what’s the plan?” Renee asks and my sweet little innocent bubble pops. That’s exactly what it feels like. When I’m with him, we’re in our own little world where everything is perfect and all that matters are the butterflies in the pit of my belly.

And then my bubble pops. Just like it did now, right in time with the show ending on the television.

Clicking the power button, the screen goes black and Bridget yelps in protest. “Heyyyy!”

“Bedtime, little miss,” I tell her and toss both the remote and my phone on the ottoman.

Renee grabs my phone like I knew she would and I don’t stop her.

“No bedtime,” Bridget says then pouts. It’s a truly impressive pout, one where she sticks out her bottom lip and flashes puppy dog eyes at me. With both my hands on the ottoman, I lean down and give her forehead a kiss. “I told you only one show. Come on now,” I say then hold my hand out to her, standing up straight and Bridget follows my lead. “Time to brush our teeth.”

“Night night, little miss.”

“Night night, Raynay.”

Even though Bridget sounds completely defeated, she doesn’t fight bedtime. With the little yawn she gives me as her bare feet pad on the floor, I know she’ll be out like a light in only a few minutes.

It’s only when she’s tucked in with her night light on and the door open an inch, just how she likes it, that I head back to the living room. Brushing my hair out of my face, I let my cheeks puff out with an exaggerated sigh.

“So what is the plan?” I ask Renee, feeling that nervous pitter-patter in my chest.

It’s late, the night is dark and the salty breeze is now a little too chilly for the window to be cracked, so I close it. Renee hasn’t answered, so I turn around to face her and lift a brow as I say, “How can I tell him?”

Renee stretches out her legs and rests her head on the back of the chair before grinning like a fool and holding up my phone. “I don’t know but I like kissing you,” she jokes and then laughs, and I can’t help but smile.

And to toss a pillow at her smiling face.

“You’re no help.”

Brody

The smell of wood stain is overwhelming. It engulfs me as I lay down another sample of granite on the plywood that will be the bar top.

“I still like the steel best,” Griffin calls out from across the room. Of course he has his laptop open, his feet propped up while I do the manual labor.

A few of the painters look his way, probably wondering what the hell he’s talking about and if it relates to them. Griffin’s gaze never leaves the documents on the screen and everyone goes about their business.

There are at least a dozen guys in this place day in and day out. Construction is practically finished with the exception of some of the plumbing that needs updating and the same goes for the wiring.

It’s eating up a good chunk of the money I set aside for this part of our business. I love the brewery, but it better pay me back. Between the steel countertop and the gray slab of marble with the waterfall edge, there’s no doubt we’d save money on the steel that Griffin keeps going on about.

“You like the steel look or you like the price tag?” I call out to where he’s seated in the booth and that gets his attention.

“If I say both, will you know I’m lying?” he asks and a huff of a laugh leaves me.

The steel may be economical, but the vision in my head, the shared dream of this bar … it calls for a pricier aesthetic.

Exhaling and heading to the cooler, I decide we can look at the numbers again. We can push the online retail and the partnerships we have lined up. A little more time may not be so bad. It’ll be better than opening a subpar bar.

With a beer in hand, the water beads dripping down to my wrist, I sit across from Griffin. I don’t expect him to stop working when I ask him a