Her heart went out to him. Why hadn’t he simply gone home to relax and unwind?
And there was no doubt he was in need of unwinding. Energy crackled around him like heat lightning ahead of a storm. It prickled her skin. She managed to fill the next orders without spilling anything, even though he watched her with the intensity of a hawk tracking a mouse.
“What can I get for you?” she asked, bumping him to the head of the line.
He turned a yawn into a grin. “Surprise me.”
She thought for a moment. Last time, he’d had the stout. Maybe he’d like to try something different. “How about a blonde?”
“I’m partial to honey browns, but a blonde will do for a start.”
She blinked as she processed his words. Was he flirting with her?
The three men and one woman standing in line behind him tried to pretend they weren’t listening in, but they didn’t fool her. Everything the young billionaire owners of the Endeavour did was of interest to the residents of a small town like Grand. Someone transformed a laugh into a cough. Four sets of eyes stared at her, all innocence, when she glanced around to see who had the insensitive nerve.
She refocused on Dallas and gave him the benefit of the doubt. “Unfortunately, the brewery doesn’t have a honey brown on tap. But wait until you’ve tried the Belgian before you make up your mind.”
“Blondes, honey browns… Dallie likes tapping them all.”
Heads swiveled toward the owner of that caustic remark.
Simone stood with one hand on her hip, the other patting her thigh. The look she shot Dallas was filled with more hurt than dislike, but at the same time, if she was looking for sympathy, her snippy tone wasn’t helping her cause with the crowd.
Not at all.
“You’d be the expert,” someone muttered, choosing sides.
Hannah had gotten good at defusing tense situations from years spent working in bars. Plus, she was a middle child. She’d been the family peacemaker and she prepared to put those skills to good use. The last thing she wanted was to have another scene like the one at the Endeavour play out here. The brewery was more than a business to her. This was her home.
It turned out her skills weren’t needed, however, because Dallas appeared not at all bothered by Simone, if the way his smile never faltered was any indication. “I’m willing to try the blonde. It’ll give me something to compare to the honey brown whenever it comes on the market,” he said.
Silently, Hannah passed him his beer. There was no way to know what went on in his head. Attention deficit disorder might explain a few things.
One of the locals, a twenty-something named Allan, assessed the situation and took pity on him. “Come join us, Dr. Tucker. My buddies and I are about to start a game of Settlers of Catan and we could use a fourth player.”
“Thanks. Sounds like fun.” Dallas took a sip of the blonde. “It’s good,” he said, saluting Hannah with his glass. “Put the table on my tab.”
She was too busy for the half hour after than to do more than glance his way to keep an eye on what he was up to. Settling Catan, as it turned out.
Simone approached the bar once the lineup abated.
“I apologize,” she said quietly. “I should never have been rude to one of your customers. I walked in, saw Dallas and the way he was looking at you, and I was jealous.”
“There’s nothing to be jealous about,” Hannah said carefully.
The other woman’s eyes expressed her skepticism far better than words. “You’ve been staring at each other for the past half hour. He lit up like the Macy’s parade when he saw you at the open house. He’s all yours,” she added. “I thought I should warn you not to take him too seriously, though. He’s an overgrown child. His friend Ryan O’Connell watches over him and Dan like an old mother hen, too. No amount of money is worth that kind of aggravation.”
Simone made it sound as if she’d only been interested in Dallas for his money. Hannah thought it was far more likely that she was pretending. The uncomfortable truth, however, was that Dallas and his money were inextricably connected, and any woman who tried to claim otherwise would be lying. Maybe Simone was simply more honest about it than most.
Hannah knew all about being poor and struggling to get a business off the ground. She had stacks of invoices on her dining room table that would have to be paid from the weekend’s gross earnings. Consequently, she’d never considered there might be a downside to having plenty of money, before.
As she filled an order for one of the tables, she tried to put herself in Dallas’s position. Maybe the laidback atmosphere was why he came to the taproom. Its customers were mostly young, married couples, with a few extended family members thrown in, so dating-wise, it was low pressure. Maybe all she represented was someone who’d known him before he had money.
It was entirely possible he’d moved beyond their one night of sex and was simply being his usual, friendly self. She might be the one placing more meaning on a spontaneous event than it deserved, unduly complicating matters. After all, she was the one who’d tried to be something she wasn’t.
Dallas had only ever been…
Dallas.