Never Say Never (Haven Harbor #3)

Chapter 4

FOUR

GUARANTEED TO BE A GOOD TIME

D aisy

Ten more minutes.

This day has felt like an eternity. Beside me, the clinic’s newest employee, Hazel, hums quietly as she enters a patient’s data into the system. What she lacks in experience she makes up for in enthusiasm—I swear even the sound of her typing is cheerful. I am trying my best to be upbeat and welcoming, but I’m pretty sure I’m failing miserably.

My run-in with Tucker on Saturday has me very distracted. On top of that, I still need to deal with the situation with Scott. I’ve managed to avoid him all day, pretending to take a call when he arrived this morning and at one point even ducking behind a corner when I saw him on his way out for lunch.

I feel like a coward—I know I need to gather the courage and tell him we’re better off as friends, but I hate the idea of hurting him. I’m a people pleaser and always have been. But I have to just deal with it. Maybe tomorrow, though? That sounds like a good plan to me.

I quickly tidy my desk, getting ready to make a break for it, when I hear Scott’s voice directly behind me.

“Can I talk to you for a second, Daisy?”

I wince. Shit . I paste a grin on my face and follow him as he motions to an examination room across the hall, a knot forming in my stomach.

You can do this.

Make it short and sweet.

Get it over with.

But before I have a chance to open my mouth, he takes a step toward me with an awkward smile. “I had a really great time with you the other night. I wondered if you would like to go out again this Friday?”

He exhales and the tension in his shoulders seems to relax. My muscles, on the other hand, are pulled tighter than the strings on a guitar. “Scott, I—"

“Why don’t I pick you up at seven?” he says, before I can finish. “We can go to Catch 21.”

I find the courage to scrape out the words. “I think we need to rethink things, Scott. It’s just that I work for you, and I think it’s best that we keep our relationship professional.”

His eyebrows pull together in surprise.

“I thought you had a good time. It felt like you were feeling it as much as I was.”

“I like you,” I say gently. “But I’m not the girl for you. I hope you can understand.”

“I see.” He looks up at the ceiling. “I guess I misread things.”

I hate this. And I’d also like to keep this job for the next four months before I leave on my trip. “I really enjoy working for you. I hope it won’t be awkward. I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine. Don’t be sorry,” Scott says, his expression softening. “It won’t affect things around here. I need you. Hazel is taking longer than I hoped to get the hang of things around here. Do you think you can get her up to speed before you leave?”

I heave a sigh of relief at the change of topic. “We have a ways to go, but yes, I’ll make sure of it,” I answer, hoping that I sound convincing. He hired Hazel to take my place while I’m away but so far, she has spent more time fawning over Scott than she has actually working. The girl has a serious crush.

“I know you will,” he says with a nod. He steps aside, motioning toward the examination room door. “See you tomorrow, Daisy. Go ahead. I’ll lock up.”

I say goodnight and head out, thankful to have the conversation over with. I’m looking forward to a date with my couch and some leftover Thai food. Maybe a warm bath or a walk along the beach if I can find the energy. At the apartment, I find Briar in our kitchen wearing a tight jean skirt, a black tube top, and black ankle boots. Her platinum hair is in waves around her face and her lips are painted with a shiny, pale pink gloss.

“Wow,” I say, looking her up and down as I drop my purse and keys on the counter. “It’s Monday night. Where are you going?”

“ We are going out,” she corrects me. “You have 20 minutes, and I am not taking no for an answer, so don’t even bother trying. I’m starving, and I have no interest in cooking. Besides, it’s Marg Monday at Cocina Caliente.”

I cast a wistful glance at the couch as Briar ushers me to my bedroom, where she plucks out a selection of short dresses from my closet, tossing them on the bed. I sigh in defeat. When Briar is determined, I know I don’t stand a chance.

“You can wear this,” she announces, shoving a spaghetti strap dress toward me. It’s not overly dressy but also does not give off the I-put-zero-effort-into-getting-dressed vibe. “And wear your Jimmy Choo wedges. They make your legs look nine feet long.”

The shoes are one of my best-ever thrift store finds, right up there with my treasured pair of perfectly fitting vintage Levi’s. Briar and I go thrifting pretty regularly. It’s like a treasure hunt—nothing beats the straight up euphoria I feel when I find something I truly love tucked into the racks. But I’m not in the mood for Jimmy Choos tonight.

“What’s wrong with jean shorts and a T-shirt?” I ask, flopping down onto my bed.

Briar levels me with a look that lets me know she is exhausted with my excuses. When she crosses her arms over her chest, I know I’m wearing the damn dress.

“Come on, Daisy. Let’s have some fun. It’s just dinner. We’ll eat tacos, drink two-dollar margaritas and if we’re lucky, meet our future husbands.”

“Fine. I’ll go,” I groan. It will probably be good for me to unwind a little after my uncomfortable chat with Scott.

“Good.” She smiles as if she knew all along that I would cave. “I’ll drive. Holler when you’re ready. I’m going to send a quick text to my brother and check in on my mom while you’re getting dressed.”

“Say hi to him for me,” I say before she winks and turns for the door.

I’ve known Briar since college; we met at a party in the second semester of freshman year and immediately hit it off. I admired her confidence, her over-the-top fashion, and boisterous personality. With Briar, it’s guaranteed to be a good time. She’s turned out to be an incredible friend too. In our sophomore year, we shared a dorm together and then after graduation, we decided to rent an apartment close to the beach.

Sadly, Briar’s stepdad passed away six months ago from a heart attack and her mom has been really struggling. She lives just outside of Vancouver, British Columbia so Briar relies on phone calls and text messages to keep in contact. I know she’s toyed with the idea of moving closer to her mom, but for now her brother living nearby is given Briar the peace of mind she needs.

Twenty minutes later, I join Briar in the kitchen, wearing the little black dress with the wedges, my hair pulled back into a bun at the nape of my neck.

“You clean up good,” Briar says with an approving nod. She grabs her keys, and we head out. The drive to the restaurant takes six minutes—one of the perks of living in a small town. But when we push open the big, wooden door to the colorful hot spot we’re told it will be a 10-minute wait.

Once we’ve been seated, it’s another several minutes before our server arrives. “Sorry for the delay, ladies,” she says apologetically as she hands us our menus and slides a basket of taco chips with salsa and guacamole into the center of the table. “It’s always like this on game night. Take your time with the menu. I’ll be right back.”

My gaze flicks over to the bar and the giant TV playing the Rangers’ game. That explains it.

“Oh good, we can watch the game,” Briar says, rubbing her hands together.

“Since when do you like hockey?”

“I’ve always loved it.”

“The game or the hot guys on skates?”

“What game?” she shrugs her shoulders reaching for a taco chip.

“Puck Bunny.”

Briar’s lips tip up in a mischievous smile as she pops the chip into her mouth. She shrugs, not bothering to argue the nickname. Just then her eyes land on something over my shoulder and she leans toward me conspiratorially. “Check out the table in front of the bar,” she tells me, eyebrows raised. I take a quick glance in that direction and the smile falls from my face when I spot Holden, Jake Matthews, and Grayson Ford. My gaze nervously moves around the table looking for Tucker, and I exhale in relief when I can’t find him.

Grayson and Jake are close friends with Tucker and Holden. While Tuck and Holden are notoriously single, the other guys have settled down. Grayson is married to Sierra, Jake’s sister, who owns a bakery here in town. Jake is married to a woman named Everly and last I heard they have a baby on the way. I don’t know either of them very well, but they seem like nice guys, although Jake has this serious intensity to him that always makes me feel a little off balance.

All of them are handsome, but Holden is probably the prettiest, with his perfectly styled dark hair and sea-green eyes. He’s also the one that gets the most attention from the opposite sex, but I think he is officially off the market since meeting his girlfriend Aubrey last year. Holden was single for a long time—ever since his high school girlfriend broke up with him after graduation. They had been pretty serious, so that messed him up for a long time. Eventually, though, the carousel of girls vying for his attention got him out of his funk. He and Tucker are roommates and I can only imagine what has happened in their little beach house on Haven Harbor over the years. Scratch that. I don’t want to imagine it. Now that Holden is with Aubrey, that leaves the title of Reed Point’s most notorious bachelor to Tucker.

“Where’s Tucker?” Briar asks as if reading my mind, nodding in the direction of the boys’ table.

I raise a brow. “How would I know?”

“I don’t know. You guys are family or whatever. I thought maybe you’d have talked to him.”

“I have better things to do than keep tabs on Tucker,” I huff, and it comes out sounding more defensive than I had intended.

Briar gives me an amused look, but thankfully we are interrupted by someone at the table next to us who says something about hot sauce. When my eyes lock with his, I’m momentarily at a loss for words. The guy is gorgeous .

“Daisy, the hot sauce,” Briar says, coming to my rescue.

“Oh, right,” I stumble. “Hot sauce. Sorry. Here you go!” I quickly grab the bottle from the table and shove it toward him.

Hot Guy smirks, then takes it from my hand, lifting his chin in a nod. “Thanks,” he says. “I’ll give it back. I promise.”

I watch him twist the cap off the bottle with his large hands and nicely manicured fingers. Why is that so attractive? I’ve always had a weakness for guys with nice hands.

When I realize that I’m staring, I reluctantly rip my attention away from Hot Guy and his hands, which honestly deserve to have their own Only Fans page. I shove a chip in my mouth, trying to regain my composure. Clearly, I need to release some tension. When my gaze lands on Briar, her mouth falls open.

“That guy is so hot,” she whispers. “Holy fucking shit… you need to make a move.”

“What if he has a girlfriend?”

“What if he doesn’t? Just go for it. Make eye contact and hold it. If his gaze doesn’t immediately snap back to his friend, then it’s a sign he’s interested. Trust me, the eye lock works every time.”

Briar is right. What’s the worst that can happen? Well, his equally hot girlfriend could show up and interrupt my pathetic attempts at flirting. I shudder with anticipated embarrassment. It’s been a very long time since I’ve even thought about picking up a guy at a bar.

“Hey, thanks,” Hot Guy says from beside me, interrupting my thought spiral. I take the bottle of hot sauce from him. “With how busy this place is tonight, I thought it would be quicker if I just borrowed yours. Is it always like this on a Monday?”

“It’s not. It’s the hockey game. Gets people off their couches, I guess.” I nod my head at the big screen. “You haven’t been here before?”

“First time. Just in town for the week at a hotel conference. We’re from Lake Tahoe. My name is Will, by the way,” he says, then nods to the guy sitting beside him. “This is Cam. And you are…”

“Daisy. My name is Daisy… and this is Briar. It’s nice to meet you.”

Briar echoes the sentiment and the four of us settle into easy conversation, chatting about our jobs, the restaurant, where to find the best coffee in Reed Point. Before long, the two of them are sitting at our table and ordering us a round of drinks.

My face feels hot from the sexual tension crackling in the air between us. Looking at Will, I find myself thinking that maybe what I need is a couple of hours in bed with a hot guy. No strings. Forget the feelings. Just a good time and a release from all of the stupid thoughts I’ve been having about Tucker.

This guy could be the distraction I need to finally get Tucker Collins out of my system.

Will stretches his arm across the back of my chair, the tips of his fingers grazing my shoulder when he does. “We gotta get going,” he says, sounding reluctant to leave. “Daisy, um… any chance I could get your number. We’re in town for most of the week, maybe we could meet up for a drink? I had a good time with you tonight.”

Without thinking too hard on it, I agree and watch him punch my number into his phone.

When they’re gone, I turn my attention to Briar, who is staring at me with her eyes wide. “I am screaming inside for you, girl!”

“Don’t get too excited. With my luck, he won’t even call.”

“I saw the way he was looking at you. He is going to call.

By the time I’m back home and hopping into bed, I have convinced myself that a steamy night with Will is exactly what I need. A little adventure before I leave.

But when my head hits the pillow, it’s not Will who comes to mind as I drift off to sleep, but a honey-haired, sapphire-eyed football coach I’ve known all my life.