Small Town, Big Rumors: The Tequila Rose Duet by Willow Winters

Author:Willow Winters [Winters, Willow]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-02-05T18:30:00+00:00

ROBERT

Asher’s garage has this nostalgic scent to it. It’s an old airplane hangar from the ’80s he and his dad converted to a garage. He saved up all the way back in high school to add all the gear he needed to start his own shop. It smells like oil, hard work and well-used machines.

“Asher,” I call out as the gravel crunches beneath my feet at the large entrance. The garage door is up and I know he starts his day the second the sun peeks up from the skyline. I take a long look around the quiet lot, not finding him where he usually is: under the car on the lift right in front of me.

“Heyo,” Asher bellows from around the corner and that’s when I spot an ancient hunk of metal. It’s an engine that’s entirely too large to belong to a car, and it sits just before the door that opens onto a hall leading to more offices and storage.

Asher catches me studying the engine as he makes his entrance, a rag in one hand, cleaning up the wrench in his other.

“Isn’t it a beaut?” He takes a moment to nod at it.

“Depends.” I meet my friend halfway at the engine. “What is it?”

“For the tractor. I’m thinking it’ll pull a cart and we can have hayrides this fall.”

An easy smile slips across my face as he slaps the side of the metal behemoth. “I just have to clean it up a bit and we should be good.” Asher’s a solid guy and a good time to hang out with, always thinking about what he can do for the community. “Hayrides for the kids and then the after-party in the hangar.”

My lips kick up into a smirk at the thought of it. “Sounds like a good time to me.” The second floor of the hangar has seen a number of parties back in the day. I’ve missed too many of them recently.

“You going to be here?” he asks me, tossing the used rag in a drum in the corner and grabbing a fresh one to wipe the oil from his hands. He’s almost always got black crud somewhere on him while he’s here. The citrus aroma of orange from some heavy-duty cleaner he uses fills up the space as I follow him around the interior.

“’Course, why wouldn’t I be?”

“I heard you were thinking about eloping with Magnolia up north or something like that.” Asher smirks at me. His voice is far too casual for what feels like an assault on my heart. I know it’s not intentional. He couldn’t hide the humor from his eyes if his life depended on it. It takes me a second longer than it should to fix my expression. “I’m just fucking with you, man.” He tosses down the blue rag, this one less filthy than the previous one and his hands somewhat cleaner. The light in his eyes dims when he asks, “You doing all right, though?” He turns his back to lead the way to the register and, right in front of it, dangling sets of keys.

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