Leaving Bluestone by MJ Fredrick Page B

say I’d be lonely.” But she lowered her gaze and a blush heated her cheeks.
    If he stayed, could he have her? Could he see what would happen if he pursued her? Could he—take Gerry’s place in her bed?
    No. He couldn’t have that. And if he couldn’t, what was the point in staying? To watch her fall in love with someone else, marry someone else? He called her bid and waited, knowing he didn’t have the hand to beat her, but shit, he’d made his choice. He’d made his choice and now he was going to have to figure out where he was going to go next. He couldn’t stay here and not have her.
    She showed her cards. He grunted to let her know she’d won, but didn’t reveal his own sorry hand. She scraped the chips toward her, eyeing him warily. They played another hand in almost silence, then he got up to get more beer.
    “What’s wrong now?” she asked.
    “What?”
    “You ask me to stay here and play poker with you, then you stop talking?”
    “I thought we were playing poker. You suggested it last night to help me unwind, it helped, so I wanted to play again.”
    “You didn’t just bring me here to win my money.”
    “Maybe I did.”
    She watched him, considering, then shrugged and dealt another hand.
    The tension grew thicker as they played another round in silence. He won this one, focusing on the cards and not the uncertainty that was his life. When he first put the bar up for sale, he knew what he wanted—he wanted to travel around the United States, maybe settle somewhere farther west, like Montana or Idaho where fishing was good. Maybe do the mechanic thing. He’d worked for a mechanic in high school and knew his way around engines. Maybe carpentry.
    But now, nothing sounded appealing, which was why he hadn’t pushed as hard to sell as maybe he should have. He blamed the recession on lack of interest, but he knew he hadn’t done all he could. Tomorrow, he’d start placing ads in the city papers again, and he’d let Rick know he was letting go of the dream.
    Which was getting harder to do with each day.
     
    ***
     
    The following day, after the Parrillas left, Rick giving the bar one last longing look, Quinn called the papers in the Twin Cities and Duluth, winced a bit at the price of the ad, but he was determined. He was out of here.
    When he didn’t invite Lily for any more late night poker games, she took it upon herself to invite Leo and Maddox for poker night on Tuesdays, the slowest night at the bar. She didn’t take his offer of beer, instead sticking to Coke.
    “You got a reason to be up all night?” he asked, placing the glass in front of her.
    “No more than usual.”
    He scoffed and sat down after serving Leo and Maddox. “Your ladies don’t mind you being here?”
    “Trinity’s glad to get me out of the house one night,” Leo said.
    “Beth wasn’t exactly thrilled, but she liked the idea that I’m not working,” Maddox said.
    “So when do you go back on tour?” Lily asked.
    “October. But I’m back in the studio next month. I’m trying to build a studio in the house so I don’t have to leave, but I’m not sure it’ll be done by then.”
    “So how come you get to be here?” Leo asked her. “I thought this was a guys only thing.”
    “I’m one of the guys,” Lily said. “And I don’t have to babysit anyone.”
    “You getting any hits on those ads?” Leo asked Quinn, and Lily flinched.
    “A couple of phone calls. No one willing to drive out to look at it yet.”
    “You’ve mentioned the uptick in business, I presume.”
    “I have, though how long that will last once winter sets in, I can’t guarantee.”
    “I’m working on that,” Lily said, her voice tight and her focus on the cards.
    “Right, a winter carnival,” Leo said. “You have it scheduled?”
    “The weekend between Wilson’s and Beaudin’s.”
    Quinn grunted. “No one will have money.”
    “They’ll save it for ours. Maddox agreed to play.”
    “Maddox plays every weekend.