THEN

"I wanna go home..." I heaved a sigh and collapsed my upper body over the counter at The Riverbank. Outside the big front window, the parking lot was empty. "Or at least outside, where the air is fresh and there's something to do."

Where were all the customers? I needed engagement, human interaction, or some other kind of amusement before I died of boredom.

"You can't leave," Uncle Reed deadpanned. "You're on the clock."

I spared a glance in his direction, amused by the little "corner office" he'd made for himself using stacked up cases of beer. He didn't seem to mind being closed up in that stuffy little shack, apparently. He used inventory to close himself up more.

I couldn't relate. Ugh.

Someone save me!

I reached for my phone and started typing a text to my cousin, Charlie. She could save me. She was excellent entertainment.

Violet: I'm bored at work. Come talk to–

"I'm not gonna bust you for being on your phone," Uncle Reed's voice stopped my fingers in their tracks, "but if you're texting Charlie to come entertain you, I'll put her to work too."

Dang it. No way was I going to subject my favorite cousin to this level of boredom. I dropped my phone on the counter with another sigh.

"I thought you were the fun uncle."

"I am."

"Are not." I turned and made a face at him like a two-year-old. He made one right back. "I'm gonna call a cousin meeting and have your status revoked. We'll be picking someone to replace you."

"Go ahead," he snort laughed. "You've got a bunch to choose from."

He wasn't wrong about that. Uncle Reed was the youngest of the six Hale siblings here in Serenity. There were five brothers and their sister, Aubrey, who was already designated the fun and beautiful auntie. Uncle Maddox and Uncle John both lived too far away, so they didn't have local sway among the cousins here.

That left my dad, who definitely wasn't fun uncle status. Even Charlie would agree that he was far too serious. Or Mason, who was Charlie's dad, so he wouldn't get her vote. All we had was killjoy Uncle Reed.

I glanced around the walls that entrapped me. What little space we had was filled to the brim with product from River's Edge Brewery, all courtesy of my grandparents on Mom's side. They were retired in the city now, living in a spotless penthouse with a group of board members handling the business, but they built this little piece of their legacy for my mother.

I'm not sure they knew what they were doing.

"You know, it wouldn't be so bad if this place wasn't so freaking tiny." I took a step back and did a little twirl, if only to accentuate how little room there was to twirl. "Dad's creepy, old cabin in the woods is bigger than this box."

"What do you expect? It's supposed to operate like a food truck, Violet." My uncle laughed. "And don't knock your dad's creepy cabin. It's been in the family for years. Have you been down to see it since he and Grandpa Hale started renovating it?"

"No," I shrugged, switching gears to my other grandparents.

When I went to their house, I preferred to stay inside and eat cinnamon rolls or venture into the woods. It was a legacy much more my speed, but the old cabin down the road was the center of many spooky campfire stories growing up, so I usually avoided it.

"Well, it's a lot nicer now," Uncle Reed let me know. "Might even have you reconsidering Grandma's offer to move in before she turns it back into a rental. You'd have first dibs since you're the oldest grandkid in Serenity."

He sent a warm smile my way, throwing in some puppy dog eyes to try and convince me. None of the Hale siblings wanted to see the cabin rented again.

"I'll think about it," I said honestly. I had to admit, it would be nice to spread my wings at some point and have my own place.

One problem at a time though. And right then, I had no customers to interact with. What did a girl have to do to get some business around here?! Take off my shirt and hold up a sign by the road?

"Don't do that," Uncle Reed answered what I thought was a silent question. "Your father would kill me."

Oops.

Just then, the glorious sound of a car rumbled in my ears, crushing gravel as it pulled into the parking lot and claimed the spot beside my Range Rover. I perked up and put a smile on. Finally, someone to talk to other than my uncle. Whoever this is has to be more interesting than him.

The car was an older model Ford Focus with a dent in the side. A minute or two passed before the occupant stepped outside of the driver's side door. And when he did, I almost lost my breath.

He was the hottest guy I'd ever laid eyes on.

From a distance, the first glimpse of him was all good posture and an athletic build. He wore gym shorts and a plain white tee, so his clothes were nothing special, but there was something about the way he carried himself that rendered me unable to move. I just stood there watching him, speechless. I swear, I saw tiny little hearts crowding my peripheral vision.

As he drew closer, my view only got better. His hair was light brown, eyes a milky blue like the sky when spring is coming, and he had the most adorable splash of freckles on his nose. So jealous of that. My freckles only showed up after a summer in the sun.

When he caught me staring, his mouth tilted up into the most breathtaking smile. Boyish in nature, not smirky or laced in some arrogant form of I see you staring. He genuinely just looked happy to see me, and boy was I happy to see him too.

That was when I panicked.

Not only did I officially have a customer to keep me occupied, something cute was coming right toward me, and I had an opportunity to flirt.

But with Uncle Reed sitting right there? No thanks.

"Uncle Reed, take ten," I blurted out as Mister Cutie Pants approached the window. He was seven steps away, at most.

"Take what now?" Uncle Reed barked a laugh. "Violet, I'm the boss in this place. I'm supposed to tell you when to take ten."

Details...

"Well, can you just..." I let out a frustrated sigh, then turned on the charm with a smile. "Get lost for a minute? I wanna get my flirt on, but I can't do it with my lame uncle listening in."

"I'm not lame," he pouted as he came to his feet. "I'm the fun uncle, whether you like it or not. I got voted in!"

"Okay, fine." I shooed him out the back entrance. "I won't call a recount if you make yourself scarce. Right meow."

That was a power move. Uncle Reed loves cats.

"Deal," he laughed, letting the door swing shut behind him.

When I turned back to the window, I was mortified to see that Mister Hottie had arrived in front of it much sooner than I anticipated. How much had he seen?

Realizing that the window was still shut, and I had a paying customer waiting, I flung it open and threw a smile on.

"Welcome to The Riverbank. What can I get you?"

Captain Handsome's eyes beamed between me and the back entrance. "Who'd you just kick out of there?" he asked, the gravelly tone of his voice such a contrast to the shimmer it sent through my veins.

"Oh, just..." I glanced over my shoulder at the door, then back to the window. "That was my uncle. And I didn't really kick him out." I let out a nervous laugh, surprised I could make eye contact. My whole body was a live wire in this guy's presence. "He had to go...save a cat."

"A cat, really?" He nodded, struggling to keep a straight face and act like I hadn't just fed him a really lame line of bullshit. "That's nice of him."

"It really is..." I cracked a smile at the absurdity of this conversation so far. It wasn't going at all how I thought it would.

For a moment, neither of us spoke again, but it wasn't an awkward lull. The seconds just passed quietly between us, and time seemed to slow down as we regarded each other with curiosity and amusement.

I took a closer look at those freckles on Cute Guy's nose, then watched in wonder as his gaze roamed over my eyes and lips, along my neck and down to my chest, before coming back up again. His lingering glance made my skin hot, and my heart beat wildly in my chest.

Reminding myself that I wasn't being very professional, I cleared my throat. "Was there something I could get you?"

"Uh, yeah." He shook it off and came back to the moment as well. "A six pack of Allegheny Pale," he answered, adding with a smile, "please."

"From the fridge?"

"Sure."

"Coming right up."

I turned on my foot and headed toward the cooler along the back wall. The classic pale ale was far and away our most popular sell, so the stock took up almost half the space. I collected a six pack and went back to the window.

Proceeding with business as usual, I started to ring it up, but my concentration was shot with Mr. Handsome's eyes on me. My fingers fumbled over the keys like I'd never used the register before, and then I almost forgot the most important part of working here.

I lifted my eyes to his. "Can I see your ID?"

"Of course," he smiled. Wallet in hand, he pulled out his driver's license and handed it to me. Our fingers didn't brush, thank goodness. I was frazzled enough without making direct contact.

I looked down at his card, my eyes flying on instinct to the part I needed to confirm and doing the quick math on his date of birth. Pausing to think of today's date, I couldn't contain my joy.

"It's your 21st birthday?"

He gave me a sheepish smile. "Yep."

I was practically giddy at his response because birthdays are my favorite, and this almost never happened. Fresh twenty-ones were a rare sight at the beer stand. Most people just hit up a bar with their friends. I was half tempted to sing him happy birthday, but I had to play it cool.

"That explains why you barely look old enough to shop here," I joked as I handed his card back.

Our fingers brushed that time. It was glorious.

He took his time putting his license away. Still looking down at it, he let a smile sneak out and muttered, "That's funny coming from someone who barely looks old enough to work here." He looked up at me. "How old are you anyway?"

"Nineteen," I answered, straightening my spine.

"So, you can sell alcohol but not drink it?"

"Exactly. The state of Pennsylvania allows someone under the age of twenty-one to sell alcohol at a licensed establishment where the product in question will be consumed off-premises." Yep, that was me. Parroting the law like some kind of robotic super nerd. As my cheeks went flush from embarrassment, I mumbled under my breath. "I can't believe I just said that."

Mister Handsome didn't seem to mind. He just stared at me with a twinkle in his eyes. And I stared right back. I swear a whole minute went by, which isn't long in the grand scheme of things, but it felt like a lifetime in the shimmery, weighted silence that stood between us. He was the first to speak again.

"What's your name?" he asked, leaning forward and resting his arms on the counter. I liked how comfortable he was getting. I liked that he was close enough for me to catch a whiff of his cologne.

"Violet," I answered.

His eyebrows went up with interest. "Like the flower?"

"Yep. What's yours?"

"Cash," he said.

"Like the currency?"

He laughed. "Yep."

And then time stood still again.

Another pleasant lull.

Another shared smile.

Another bout of intense but comfortable eye contact.

Is this what love at first sight feels like?

It must've been. There was no other excuse for how my insides felt from just the sound of his laugh and the look in his eyes.

When I found myself leaning forward to get closer to him, my arm bumped the register and reminded me of where I was, what I was doing. Or rather, what I was supposed to be doing.

Taking a quick step back, I blurted out, "You owe me money."

"Yeah, I do." Cash snort laughed as he reached back into his wallet. 

"It's twelve ninety-nine," I told him, but he was already passing me fifteen dollars in cash. I entered the numbers into the register, enjoying the ding as it popped open.

Not wanting him to leave just yet, I took my time getting Cash's change together, opting for one last bit of small talk since we seemed to be so good at it in the short time we'd known each other.

"So, what are your birthday plans?" I asked him as I gathered some ones from the register. When he didn't answer right away, I looked up at him expectantly, thrown off by the melancholy expression now spreading over his face.

"Uh, well..." He exhaled a half-hearted laugh and scratched at his jaw. "You're ringing it up."

"What?" I glanced down at the beer, then back to him. "You're celebrating your 21st birthday with a six pack?"

He nodded. "Yep."

"Not going on a bar crawl or throwing a house party with all your friends?"

"Nope," he frowned. "I'll be at home."

"Oh." I went back to the register and continued pulling his change out, trying to ignore the discomfort climbing up my spine. I'd already grown so used to that smile of his, I hated to see it go. "But you will be with your friends, right? Or your family? Someone is celebrating with you?"

When he didn't answer, again, I looked up at him. Again. He met my eyes with a forced smile. 

"Yeah, of course. I'll have people to celebrate with."

I saw through the act immediately. 

"Don't lie to me, Cash," I admonished him softly, tossing some humor in my voice to settle the tension. "Lies are for your closest comrades. Best friends and girlfriends and parents when they're being insufferable. But me? I'm a stranger. Just the checkout girl at your local beer distributor, so tell me the truth."

"Well, shit." Cash laughed a little and ran a hand through his hair. "Since you put it that way, my little brother is with his dad this weekend and my mom is, uh..." Looking out at the parking lot, he cleared his throat. "She's working."

"And your friends?"

"None of them are free tonight."

"Oh, that..." A touch of sadness wrapped itself around my heart. No one should spend their birthday alone. "That simply won't do."

I handed Cash his change and then reached for my phone. But as soon as I pulled up the text conversation with my mom, he reached out and wrapped his hand gently around my wrist.

"Don't do that," he said softly.

"Do what?" I gave him an innocent smile. "You don't even know what I'm doing."

"I think I can guess exactly what you're doing, Violet like the flower, and it's not necessary." He returned my smile with one more solemn, his eyes resolved. "I'll be fine."

"But my mother is making homemade chicken pot pie," I informed him, determined to convince him of my plans before they were even fully planned. All I knew was that I couldn't let him get away just yet. I gestured to the six pack between us. "My dad likes the same beer as you, so you'll have someone to drink with, and–"

"Violet–" he tried to cut me off.

I didn't let him. "You shouldn't be alone on your birthday," I said with finality in my tone. I wasn't taking no for an answer. "I get off in a half hour. We start dinner as soon as I get home. You can follow me there."

For a moment, Cash just stared me down, his expression turning neutral as he thought it over. I had all the time in the world to wait.

Well, not all the time in the world, but a solid half hour. And I was nothing if not persistent.

"If I spend the evening at your house," Cash finally spoke again, "we won't be strangers anymore."

"You're right." I leaned forward, grinning like an idiot. "We'll be close comrades."

"That means I can lie to you," he reminded me.

I shrugged. "Yeah, but you won't."

Looking down at my phone again, I noticed Cash's hand was still around my wrist, applying the most gentle of pressure as his thumb brushed slowly over my pulse.

When he noticed it, too, he released me and grabbed his case of beer. I half expected him to take off, ignoring my invitation and freeing us of whatever energy had just taken both of us captive. But instead, he lingered at the counter with surrender in his eyes.

"So, you'll come over?" I asked him.

He nodded. "Yeah, I guess I will."

"Good."

Violet: Mother, we need a birthday cake at dinner. I'm bringing someone home.

Mom: I'm on it.