He had his staff back, but it was karaoke night and Vic was supposed to stop in to see if anyone was good enough for the festival stage. They might get lucky, unless another drunk and off-key woman convinced herself she could tackle Leona Lewis.
“You two best not let me down. I got a reputation to uphold.”
“Your reputation will be just fine, Byron. I noticed a couple of the booths going up today.”
“Not enough and too slowly. We’re worried we won’t get them all done in time. When will the stage be ready? It doesn’t look even close.”
“I’ve been working on the trim work. It’s about ready to go up and then we just have to get it painted.” They worried every year and they always pulled it off in plenty of time. “And I’m sure you, Harold and Errol will find a way.”
Leaning on the bar, Hauk caught Sophie’s eye and waved her to him. With her impish smile, she hopped up from behind her perch where she was scheduling the karaoke songs and hustled to him.
“What’s up, Dad?”
He kissed her temple and pulled her close enough to whisper in her ear. “Do your old man a favor and don’t let another woman sing Leona Lewis unless she can actually sing.”
“A couple are good enough to sing at the festival. I made a list.” Sophie’s grin spread. “And for the record, tips increase your chances of having your request granted.”
“I’ll give you a tip, young lady.” He reached over the bar and tickled her. She ran away laughing, and for a moment he heard her mother in their early days together. With the flash came a pang of agony that he couldn’t risk another woman’s life. And with that pang came the worry that he’d already gotten too close to Vic to keep her safe.
“How many laws are you breaking having her in here?” a gruff man asked as he slid onto a nearby barstool.
“Mr. Hayes.” Hauk pasted on his work smile as he turned to his latest customer. “I believe you could have been asked the same thing all those years you had Vic working lobster cages with you.”
“Guess there’s no law against a daughter seeing how hard her poppa works for her.” Vic’s father inclined his head in a silent touché. “Especially when her momma ain’t around.”
Vic’s mom had killed herself after years of fighting depression. Hauk had been with Vic when they found her. He’d called her dad and then held Vic while she held her mom. He’d brushed her hair, uncertain of how to comfort her, while she brushed her mom’s. He’d sat with her again during the funeral where she’d shed her last tears.
She’d never talked much about her mom since. And she’d never given Hauk grief for closing himself off after losing the two women he’d tried to commit himself to. In a way, she’d shut herself off too. She’d wrapped herself in a blanket of cheer that had eventually banished her grief, but the understanding of it was still there. She made her connections to people carefully, but when she did, it was forever.
She was the embodiment of the kind of woman he’d have loved to spend his life with. She was the person he couldn’t stand to ever see hurt.
“You want your regular?” Hauk asked Mr. Hayes, shaking off the thoughts. “I hope Sophie appreciates me half as much as Vic does you.”
“Yep. And she does.” Mr. Hayes looked around the pub. “Speaking of daughters, have you seen mine?”
“No. Not for…a little while.” Not since she’d taken him to her bed and given him a taste of a heaven he couldn’t keep. Hauk pulled a bottled import he stocked exclusively for Vic’s dad and again tried to shake his thoughts off the tracks they were traveling. He shouldn’t be thinking of his best friend naked and mid-orgasm while serving her dad beer.
“You two have a fight or something?”
Or something. “No. I’ve just been busy building the stage for the festival. She’s been working to line up a headliner and making notes on the entertainment.”
“I didn’t realize she was working on that.”
Hauk angled his head down the bar. “Byron roped her in.”
Mr. Hayes’ crooked nose crinkled and the left side of his mouth curved upward to reveal wrinkles from work and laughter. “I thought you were working on that.”
“We’re supposed to be working together.”
“Isn’t that easier to do if you actually talk to her?”
“Good point.” Though talking to Vic wasn’t likely to be the same again. Even seeing her wouldn’t be the same, because seeing her would remind him of how gorgeous she’d looked with her hair sex-tangled and her eyes desire-dazed.