Total pages in book: 60
Estimated words: 57350 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 287(@200wpm)___ 229(@250wpm)___ 191(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57350 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 287(@200wpm)___ 229(@250wpm)___ 191(@300wpm)
“Nope,” Mrs. Poppins said. “It’s just about that time.”
They reached the end of the street and crossed it together. The road was quiet, and a pickup truck rolled slowly past before turning the corner toward the highway. Puddles still dotted the pavement, reflecting strips of blue sky between drifting clouds.
“Time for what?” Bianca asked again, completely baffled.
“Oh,” Mrs. Schiller said happily, “Adam stocked the bar for the day, probably has coffee on, and he’ll be tuning up.”
“Tuning?” Bianca repeated.
Mrs. Schiller giggled. Actually giggled. “You’ll see.”
They continued down the sidewalk toward the low wooden building that housed Adam’s bar. The sign above the door creaked in the breeze.
Mrs. Poppins glanced up and nodded with satisfaction. “I’m so glad he renamed it. It should say Adam’s.”
“It used to be Babe’s Bar,” Mrs. Hudson explained.
“It just didn’t fit,” Mrs. Poppins added.
“No,” Mrs. Hudson agreed firmly. “Adam’s is a much better name.”
Joan reached the door first and pulled it open. Cool air and the faint smell of wood and lemon cleaner drifted out to meet them.
Bianca stepped inside with the others. The interior was dim compared to the bright street outside, but it smelled clean and fresh. Sunlight filtered through the tall windows along the front wall, catching on the polished bar and the rows of bottles behind it.
From farther inside the room came the soft sound of guitar strings being strummed.
“Hi, Adam,” Mrs. Schiller called cheerfully.
Adam looked up from where he sat on a stool with his guitar resting across his knee. He smiled easily when he saw them. “Morning, ladies. There’s fresh coffee on.”
“I’d rather get a Seven-Up, dear.” Mrs. Schiller moved toward the bar. “But I’ll pour for everybody else.”
Adam’s gaze shifted to Bianca. “You joined this group?”
“I was kind of swept along by it,” she admitted honestly, still feeling a little stunned by the entire procession. “I’d love water and will come help you, Mrs. Shiller.”
“Nope.” Mrs. Schiller waved her away. “You sit down.”
Bianca blinked. What exactly was happening here?
“Hi, Adam,” Joan said with a wink.
“Hi, Joan,” Adam replied. “How are you?”
A small, completely irrational flicker of jealousy sparked inside Bianca’s chest.
Joan was beautiful. Probably a few years older than Bianca, but confident and polished in a way that suggested she knew exactly how attractive she was. And she looked at Adam like he was dessert.
“Sit here,” Mrs. Poppins said, pulling out a chair for Bianca.
Bianca sat down automatically.
Mrs. Schiller soon returned with drinks and placed a glass in front of her.
Bianca glanced toward Adam, confused.
He just grinned.
“It’s our own little show,” Mrs. Poppins explained. “He tunes up and practices. Sometimes Dawn joins him.”
“Is Dawn coming today?” Mrs. Hudson asked.
Adam’s hand rested lightly on the wood. “No. You might want to stay away from the Lodge-Freeze crew. I heard they all have the flu.”
“Yes, I heard that too,” Joan said. “It’s a pity. When it goes through that family, it goes through everybody except Quinn.” She licked her lips thoughtfully.
Mrs. Hudson pushed her shoulder. “Knock it off, Joan. He and Juliet are happily married.”
“For now,” Joan said lightly.
“They’ll last forever. Those two are still making googly eyes at each other,” Mrs. Hudson replied firmly. “And you stay away from my Henry.”
Bianca took a sip of her drink, still trying to understand what exactly she’d been pulled into. The strange card in her pocket felt heavy, but she wasn’t sharing it with this group.
“Are you working on anything new?” Mrs. Hudson asked Adam.
“Yeah.” He adjusted the guitar in his lap and strummed a chord. “How’s this?”
The notes rolled softly through the quiet bar, warm and steady. Within a few minutes he began to sing, his voice low and easy as the melody unfolded. The song drifted through the room, carrying words about rivers and valleys and wide Montana skies stretching over mountains.
Bianca’s mouth dropped open.
He was incredible. And sexy. His voice rolled through the quiet bar, dark and husky, and he looked completely relaxed while he played. One boot rested on the rung of the stool, his shoulders loose, fingers moving easily across the strings. The music filled the room in a warm, steady rhythm that seemed to belong there.
Bianca turned toward Mrs. Hudson. “Do you do this every day?”
“No, dear,” Mrs. Hudson said, smiling as she watched Adam. “Maybe once or twice a week. He doesn’t play all the time, but when he’s working on new stuff, he likes our input.”
Bianca suspected the truth was that the women simply enjoyed listening. She certainly did.
Warmth stirred deep in her abdomen and then rolled slowly through her, a quiet warning tick she couldn’t quite ignore. Adam’s smile, the easy way he held himself, the way the music seemed to flow out of him was more dangerous to her heart than she’d realized. The sound was romantic, and she wondered vaguely, maybe hopefully, that she’d inspired some of it.