“Nothing.” I scratched the scruff on my cheek. “I don’t know. These last few years have been the best, you know? No drama like we had as kids. We’ve got a good gig here at the bar. Finally don’t feel like I’m scraping pennies together. I guess I’m just pissed that things are changing. This guy . . . he’s a game changer.”
“Is that really so awful? Logan’s not a bad guy, and Charlie adores him. She deserves a father, Jackson.”
“I know.” I sighed. “It’s just . . .”
I trailed off, not wanting to admit that I was jealous. How did you tell your best friend that you didn’t want her kid to have a dad because for the longest time, you’d been the guy playing that role?
I’d always suspected that Thea might meet a guy one day. Hell, she deserved to be happy. I could compete with a stepdad. But I didn’t stand a chance with a real dad, especially when he had millions of dollars and could give Charlie her every desire.
“I’m sorry.” Thea shook her head, understanding settling on her face. I didn’t have to tell her I was jealous. She’d already figured it out. “I didn’t think of how you’d be feeling about all this. But you’ll always be her uncle Jackson. She loves you so much.”
I hung my head. “But I can’t spoil her like he can. I don’t have that kind of money.”
“It’s not a competition, and it’s not about the things you buy her. She needs love from you both.”
Did she? If Charlie had her dad, would she really need Uncle Jackson? She’d have her dad to play with her and he’d be the one to build her forts. He’d be the guy helping to sneak animals into their house when Thea wasn’t looking. Logan would be the one to take her fishing or hiking around the lake.
That was, if they even stayed in Montana. I had a bad feeling that this “vacation” they were taking to New York would become permanent.
“She’ll forget me if you don’t come back.”
“What?” Thea’s eyes went wide. “We’re coming back. This is just a vacation.”
“You might decide to stay.”
She shook her head. “No, I won’t. I’ve already told Logan I won’t be moving back to New York. This is just a vacation.”
“Hope so.” I stood from my stool and went behind the bar for a refill. “While you’re there, go get a Giovanni’s meatball sub for me. Damn, I miss those things.”
Giovanni’s had been our spot. Thea and I had each lived close to the restaurant as kids, and whenever we had the money, the two of us would share one of their famous foot-long sandwiches. Even after both of us moved out of Brooklyn for jobs in Manhattan, we’d still go back for a meatball sub.
Usually we ate there when one of us was in a bad spot.
She’d taken me to Giovanni’s after her boyfriend had cheated on her with her best friend. I’d bought our sub before breaking the news that I’d be moving to Montana.
For years, Giovanni’s had been our safe place.
A sad, faraway look crossed her face. “I doubt we’ll be spending much time in Brooklyn.”
“Probably not.” Logan was no doubt an Upper East Sider. “I wouldn’t go back either.”
Not to New York. I wouldn’t go back to a place where there were more bad memories than good.
I took the soda gun and filled my glass, then grabbed Thea’s sketch pad to flip through the pages. “You’ve almost got this one full.”
“When I get back, you’d better have a new one waiting for me.”
I chuckled. “Done.”
Thea had been a perpetual whiner during the first few months after she’d moved to Montana. She’d complained constantly about how boring and slow it was at the bar. So I’d bought her a sketch pad, then told her to quit bitching and draw. Ever since, whenever she ran out of room in one pad, I bought her another.
“Who were you drawing tonight?” I asked, reaching the end of the book.
“You’ll see.”
I turned to the last page and nearly fell over.
That hair. It was the girl from my dream.
Even though the drawing was a black and white, it was obvious her hair was light and long and wavy. She was in profile, her high cheekbones resting perfectly over a shy smile. Somehow, Thea had reached into my mind and yanked out my dream girl.
“She’s hot.” Hot wasn’t the right word, but I didn’t want to get all gooey in front of Thea. Beautiful. Stunning. Ethereal. Those big words would just lead to questions I didn’t want to answer, so instead, I went with hot.
I looked up from the book and scanned the bar. I knew she wasn’t here, but I wished she’d be back. “I’m sorry I missed her. Who is this?”
Thea’s jaw dropped. “Seriously?”
“Seriously. Who is this?” I glanced at Thea, then back down again, wanting to keep my eyes on the page. “Was she just passing through or do you think she’ll be back?”
Please, let her be here for the summer. Let this woman be real.
“Do I think she’ll be back?” Thea’s voice rose as she stood from her stool and rounded the bar, only to snatch the sketch pad away. “Give me that.”
She looked at it for a moment, then shoved it in my face. “That is Willa, you dipshit.”
“No fucking way.” I yanked the pad from her hands. Willa? The timid blond girl? She was the science teacher’s daughter and a kid. There was no way Willa was this gorgeous woman. “She doesn’t look like this.”
“Yes fucking way she does.”
I bent closer to the paper, studying it before looking back at Thea. “She does?”
“Oh my god.” Thea tossed up her hands and walked away to check on her customers. It gave me a chance to study the page.
This couldn’t be Willow. Willa. I was shit at remembering names. When I’d first met her, I’d tried to memorize it just like she’d told it to me. Willow. Except I’d memorized it wrong. She’d corrected me a few times, but Willow had stuck.
Willa. With an a. Willa.
I repeated it ten times.
“Do you see it yet? Or am I really that bad of an artist?”
“Huh?” I jerked up, forcing my eyes away from the drawing as Thea came back. “I, uh, gotta go.”
In a daze, I hugged Thea good-bye and walked out—taking her sketch pad with me. I was going to get to the bottom of this and find out why I’d been dreaming of Willa for two weeks.
Starting with a phone call.
My feet headed down the route home as I dug my phone from my pocket and dialed the number.
“You’d better be in jail if you’re waking me up at this hour,” Hazel answered.
“Not in jail.” Not that she’d come bail me out anyway. She’d leave my ass in a cell until I’d learned my lesson. “Sorry to wake you.”
“Are you okay?”
Am I? “Uh, sure.”
“Then why are you calling me after midnight?”
I sighed. “This is going to sound strange.”
In the background, blankets rustled and a bed creaked as Hazel shifted around. “Jackson, are you drunk?”
“No. I swear.” I wasn’t drunk, but I was really damn confused. “Do you know where Willa lives?”
“Willa Doon?”
“Yeah, Willa Doon. You work with her at the camp, don’t you?”
Hazel had retired from bartending but got bored after a week, so she volunteered at the Flathead Summer Camp. I was pretty sure that Willa worked there too.
“Yes, I work with her. She’s the director. Why do you need to know where she lives?”
Fuck. I should have gotten Willa’s address from Thea. She might have asked fewer questions. Though between her and Hazel, it was a crapshoot, since they both lived for giving me shit.
“I—I just . . .” How was I going to say this without sounding like I was drunk? There wasn’t a good way, so I just blurted it all out. “I had a dream about her a couple of weeks ago and I can’t get it out of my head. I want to talk to her.”
Hazel stayed silent. All I heard was the sound of my own boots hitting the sidewalk.
“Hazel?”
“You had a dream and now you want to talk to her. At this hour?”
“Oh, right.” It was dark. The curse of being a bartender. My day didn’t start until lunch and went well into the night. I often forgot that most people didn’t sleep until noon and go to bed after three. “Never mind.”
“Wait, Jackson.” Hazel stopped me before I hung up. “I don’t have her address off the top of my head, but she lives at her parents’ place. Above the garage.”