up inside of her like boiling water, she had to say them now. And she wanted to. Maybe because she was feeling bold due to the alcohol. But maybe because it was just the right thing to say. Maybe because he needed to hear it.
“Things are easy for you, though,” she said.
“Excuse me?”
“You said my road wouldn’t be that hard, but you’re the one who has it made. You’re a man. A man everyone just kind of gives a pass to. It doesn’t matter what you do. Everyone just kind of accepts it. You can say whatever you want. Like now. You’re giving me a ride home, after being totally condescending. And you don’t even care. Me? I have to watch what I say. I have to... I have to keep up appearances for the family name. You burned that bridge a long time ago. Aren’t you like...a pastor’s kid? And you own a bar now. But if anything, people just kind of laugh at it. How funny, your dad preaches sermons on Sunday to everyone who’s hungover from being at Ace’s place on Saturday night.”
“You can stop talking now, Sierra West,” he said, his tone deadly now. “You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about. You don’t know my life.”
“Maybe not. But you don’t know mine. And you were more than ready to cast judgment on me, Mr. World-Weary, I-Know-People. You think you know me, but you don’t. Maybe nobody does.”
He laughed, and it grated against her skin. It was derisive. Unkind. “Trust me, baby, everybody thinks that. Everybody thinks they’re so unknowable, so complicated. But they aren’t. People are just people, you included. You don’t have any hidden depth to awe and astound me.”
“Stop the car,” she ground out.
“We aren’t there yet,” he said, his voice hard.
“I don’t care. We’re in the driveway. I can walk to the top of it.”
“Right. And I’m going to let you get eaten by a mountain lion now?”
“I’m not going to get eaten by a mountain lion.”
“No, you’re right. He probably won’t eat you. He’ll probably just gnaw on you for a while. But I think I’ll go ahead and keep driving you so that doesn’t happen, either. I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”
She gritted her teeth. “Out of the goodness of your heart?”
“Hell, no. Because I don’t want to deal with any of the fallout that would come from having you get gnawed on on my watch.”
“Asshole.”
“Well, now you know my secret.”
“It’s a poorly kept one. I just had to be around you for about five seconds and it became pretty clear.”
“So we’ve established that I’m an asshole, and you’re a whiny rich girl. You’re going to be very embarrassed by all of this tomorrow. I, on the other hand, won’t.”
That did it. Now she was just pissed. “Embarrassed? Why should I be embarrassed? You’re the one who should be embarrassed.”
“Why?” he asked.
Dammit. She didn’t know why. She had said it, and it had felt strong, and kind of badass, but now she felt like it really wasn’t. Especially since she didn’t have anything to back it up.
“Because—” good one, Sierra “—because, you’re just a bar owner. Serving alcohol and buying mechanical bulls for people to fall off. What is that?”
“Most of the town spends more than a bit of their free time at my humble establishment. And I seem to recall you spending money to ride good old Ferdinand, so I’m going to go ahead and say maybe you shouldn’t throw stones from your glass house.”
“Whatever. Other people grow up and move on from that kind of behavior. You wallow in it. And don’t think I haven’t heard plenty about your reputation with women. You’re just one of those guys. An eternal...frat boy. You were probably hoping to get into my pants.”
“I was very much not hoping for that.”
“So you say.”
He pulled the truck up to the front of her brother’s vast log-cabin-style house. She could see that the porch light was on, probably out of consideration for her. Something Colton had done, she was certain, and not Natalie. Natalie would probably prefer that Sierra not be able to find her way to the front door in the dark.
Natalie wouldn’t mind if Sierra was gnawed on by a mountain lion.
“I’m sexy,” she said, opening the passenger door and stumbling out into the darkness. “And I know it.” Dimly, she was aware that that was a song lyric, and she wasn’t coming across very well.
“Keep telling yourself that, sweetheart,” Ace said. “I’m sure some men will even believe you. And on that note, good night, Sierra West. It’s been...interesting, but I think you’ll understand when I say that I hope we don’t have occasion to talk again.”
She stood there for a moment, wondering why he wasn’t pulling away before she realized she was still gripping the open passenger door, preventing him from doing just that.
“Same goes, Ace Thompson.” She slammed the door shut. “Same goes.”
ACE WALKED INTO the empty flour mill and looked around the open space. He had a cramp in his right hand that signified his ownership of the place, and he’d signed his name so many times that morning his signature had started to look like it wasn’t even made of letters anymore.
But now it was official. The old mill that had been standing empty for years, a ghost waiting to be brought back to life. He stood, looking around at a whole lot of square feet of potential, and expense. The roof had a steep pitch, a mezzanine floor overlooking the vast, empty room. The large picture windows gave a stunning view of the steel-gray Pacific ocean and white-capped waves.
He’d gotten a killer deal on the place considering the location. Of course, it had been a killer deal since the building itself was little more than a gutted corpse lying on the beach. A giant-ass beached whale.
Call him Ishmael, and shit.
But he could see beyond all that. The bar did well enough that he could afford this investment. He could afford to expand. It was a strange thing, committing to that. Committing to moving forward. To really admitting that his life was in Copper Ridge now. That he owned bars. Or, in this case, a brewery.
He checked his watch. Jack Monaghan was supposed to be here any minute, along with Eli Garrett. Ace had the money to put into this place, but he’d really like to kick it off with some investors.
The more interest he had from the community, the better off he’d be.
Buying his current bar had been more of a sure thing. Ted, the old owner, was retiring and that was going to leave a hole. Someone had been needed to step into that hole and fill it with booze.
Ace
