On Lavender Lane by Joann Ross

Author:Joann Ross
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Romance, General, Contemporary, Fiction
ISBN: 9781101559482
Publisher: Penguin
Published: 2012-01-03T05:00:00+00:00

28

Since he arrived back at Shelter Bay after the meeting with his dad’s lawyers in Portland, Lucas followed what was beginning to become a habit and dropped into Bon Temps.

“How did things go in the city?” Sax asked as Lucas climbed onto what he’d begun to think of as his stool.

“Okay. Although my head’s spinning from the numbers. I knew my dad was well-off, but I had no idea how much money he’d made over the years.”

Even with his father having been generous to various charities around the world, as the estate attorney had shown him, with judicious investing, Lucas could afford to never work another day in his life. All the way back to town, he’d been trying to figure out how to get Sofia and Maddy to let him help out with the project. Maybe if he offered to become an investor…

“So, I guess I’m going to have to start stocking more imported beer,” Sax said. “Since it sounds as if you can afford it.”

“Ha ha. Just give me something local.” Given that Oregon seemed to have gone wild about microbrewing since he’d been away, there was a bunch to choose from.

“It’s a little out of season, since it’s a winter ale, but it is raining today, and given your circumstances, it fits.” Sax reached into the cooler and pulled out a brown bottle.

Lucas laughed. “Mogul Madness Ale,” he said, reading the green and white label.

“Beats the Double Dead Guy,” Sax pointed out. “Especially since it appears you’re now a mogul.”

“Which is weird. But I guess it is better than being Double Dead. Though there were sure a lot of days I thought we might’ve been poster guys for that label.”

“Ah, the good old days.” Although he seldom drank when he was behind the bar, Sax opened a bottle for himself. “To old days. And better days yet to come.”

“I’ll drink to that,” Lucas said as they tapped bottles.

The ale was strong and dark and went down smooth, leaving tastes of nuts, berries, and something like mocha. The fact that he was even learning to distinguish the different hops and flavors told him how far he’d left those days in the mountains, jungles, and deserts behind.

“Do you ever think about them?” he asked. “The old days?”

“Not as much as I used to. Only about every other day.”

That wasn’t all that encouraging. “Scout has PTSD.” He’d left the dog with Charity while he’d gone to Portland.

“Yeah. I noticed that when Kara dropped a pan lid last night and the dog hit the flagstone patio like a Blackhawk was about to come flying over, guns blazing.”

“We’re working on the noise thing. Charity says it’ll take time.”

“I’d say she’s right. I had ghosts for a long time after I got back home.”

“Don’t we all?” There were times that the faces of all the men Lucas couldn’t save infiltrated his sleep.

“Mine were real. They actually talked with me. And rode in the car and razzed me. It freaked me out at first, then it started feeling kind of normal, like when we were a team.

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