Making Peace Read online

  Making Peace

  Love In Three Lakes: Book 3

  Sasha Goldie

  Contents

  1. Carson

  2. Max

  3. Carson

  4. Carson

  5. Max

  6. Carson

  7. Max

  8. Carson

  9. Max

  10. Carson

  11. Max

  12. Carson

  13. Max

  14. Carson

  15. Max

  16. Carson

  17. Max

  18. Carson

  19. Max

  20. Carson

  21. Max

  22. Max

  23. Carson

  24. Max

  25. Carson

  26. Max

  27. Carson

  28. Max

  29. Carson

  30. Carson

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  Making Peace

  1

  Carson

  "Carson," my head bartender, Pearl, called out over the sounds of the customers: laughter, dishes and cutlery clinking, loud conversations. "Care to run one more drink order out for me?"

  "Excuse me," I said to my friends, again lamenting my choice of nights for the get-together. Sunday nights were always slow. Should've done our little celebration then.

  "Outside." She put the last bottle on the tray. "Table six."

  "Sure," I said as I took the tray. "Where is Nick?"

  "In the bathroom, I think?" She filled a draft mug. "I'm not totally sure, but if he doesn't start pulling his weight, he'll have to go.” I studied her serious expression and arched eyebrow and sighed.

  She was absolutely right, of course. I'd been avoiding the discipline, but my newest server had a bad habit of disappearing, and the rest of the staff ended up having to pick up his slack. It wasn't a pleasant situation.

  "I'll handle it," I promised. Our entire staff was made up of only about six people. That number would increase when the kitchen was finished, but the work would increase as well. We didn't have time for people that couldn't or wouldn't keep up.

  Especially when it meant I couldn't even take a night off. One night, that's all I wanted.

  After running the drinks outside to table six, I sat back down with my friends. "The next time we get together, we're going to the diner," I said jokingly, blowing out a long breath. “Or we can go to Bend.”

  "Well, your timing is good. We want to rent a cabin out on the lake later this summer," Brady said as I took a pull on my beer. "Do some fishing, swimming. Bonfire."

  It sounded like heaven, but what didn't sound wonderful was me being there alone while the four of them enjoyed a romantic weekend. "Sure," I said brightly, masking my loneliness. "We'll have to do that for sure.”

  Ugh. Great.

  No sense in sharing my apprehension about such a weekend. I'd just beg out of it at the last minute so they could go enjoy themselves. No reason to bring everyone down, especially as this night was meant to be a celebration of Ian and Nate's engagement, not a pity party for me.

  A line had formed at the bar. "Sorry, guys," I said, sliding out of my chair. "Duty calls."

  "How can I help?" I asked the man at the counter as I tied on an apron. This would take a minute, and I didn’t want to get anything on my good pants.

  I didn't recognize the customer, but that didn't mean much. We had more tourists in the area than normal thanks to a hot air balloon festival in Bend. That always brought people out of the woodwork.

  Working my way through the line side-by-side with Pearl, I mixed drinks, opened bottles, and joked with regulars and tourists alike until the customers were manageable again. Grabbing a fresh round for my friends, I joined them again. "It should start to slow soon," I said as I sat down. “I hope.”

  Ian looked around. “You sure?”

  Laughing, I nodded as I handed out the fresh drinks. “We'll be busy, but not that many stay late. Too much outdoorsy stuff to do around here in the morning for everyone to be out late at night. We'll be down to just our regulars before too long, and I’ll be able to relax."

  "I hope so," Ian said. "You work far too hard. Do you ever take a day off?"

  "When the kitchen is open and Corey gets a chef trained, Corey and I are going to split management duties so that we can both have a life outside of this bar," I said, smiling proudly at my new bar manager.

  I'd initially hired him to run the kitchen, but he'd been so helpful all over the bar while we waited on the kitchen construction to be finished that I'd already promoted him and given him a raise after only a little more than a month he'd started with me.

  We talked for a while, Pearl able to handle the traffic as the night wore on. "Anything decided about the wedding?" I asked Nate. Ian would have input, sure, but if I knew my friends as well as I thought I did, Nate would be running the show.

  "We’re going to ask the conservatory if we can have it on the bluff," Nate said with an overly sappy smile at Ian. "It's such a special place for us."

  "That's perfect," I said, trying to feel as happy for them as I projected myself to be.

  I was happy for them, truly. They'd found a wonderful love, and each brought out the best in the other.

  My miserable attitude was entirely jealousy, and I wouldn't let it spill out and ruin their moment. I'd find someone to share my life with.

  Eventually.

  Our conversation was interrupted a few minutes later by a large group of men coming in. I wouldn't have paid them much attention, except all but one of them were in fatigues, and looked like they'd just stepped off of some high-danger military training facility.

  "Pick your jaw up off the ground," Corey whispered, and I realized my mouth had dropped as I looked at the small group of men.

  "Shit, Corey, you look a little dumbstruck yourself," I whispered back as I wiped imaginary drool off of my jaw.

  He burst out laughing at my antics, drawing the gaze of most of the men, as well as his own partner and Ian and Nate. Brady turned to see what Corey and I were staring at, then raised his eyebrows.

  "Now you've done it," I muttered as I stood, all eyes on our table and me. Switching to a more natural tone of voice, I addressed my table. "I'll go help Pearl with this new crowd."

  Ian chuckled as he craned his neck to see the group behind him. He and Nate hadn't seen them come in due to where they sat. "You do that."

  Sliding behind the counter, Pearl already had one of the soldiers in front of her and had a beer opened for him.

  I grinned at the crowd. "First round is on me, guys. Thank you for your service." Not only was I truly appreciative to have soldiers in the bar, and truly appreciated their work for our country, giving a group of soldiers a round was a great business move. More than likely, the rest of the bar would help take care of their tab, and the rest of the patrons of the bar would remember that we'd picked up at least part of the soldiers' tab.

  I’d served three longnecks to three drool-worthy men when the only man in their group not in fatigues reached the counter. "Thanks for getting their drinks," he said in way of greeting. He looked so familiar. I was so sure I knew him that I felt like I should've been ashamed that his name didn't come to mind.

  "Carson," the handsome man said with a smile. His close-cut black hair needed a trim, as did the scruff all over his chin. If not for that, he'd have looked like he just stepped out of his own fatigues. "Good to see you." His expression was guarded, and as soon as he said my name, I realized who he was. He’d always had a way of inflecting his consonants that made the r-s combo in my name stand out. Nobody else that grew up in our area did that, it was a Max-thing.

  "Max?" I gasped. "Max Watson?” Picking m
y chin up off the floor, I gave him a closer once-over.

  Holy shit, he looked different. Gone was the gangly teenager I'd been friends with as a kid, replaced by a hardened soldier. He wasn’t in fatigues, but the soldier in him was glaringly obvious in the set of his chin, the way he held his back straight. I tried not to let my jaw drop—again—as I looked closer at him. His eyes were exactly the same, ice blue. I should've recognized him from that alone. In all the years since he and I had parted ways, I'd never met anyone with eyes so light blue. They were almost silver.

  "Yeah," he said with a chuckle as he looked around the dining room. His eyes kept coming back to me, though.

  "I'm sorry I didn't recognize you. It's been a long time." I smiled at him, completely embarrassed and desperately wishing I could go back and redo our reunion.

  "What can I get you?" I asked him, desperate to move forward.

  He selected a draft, and I handed it over with a smile. We moved a few steps away from the counter so Pearl could continue serving drinks. "What have you been up to the past..." I tried to mentally calculate how many years it had been, but my brain wouldn’t process.

  "Thirteen years," he supplied helpfully. I barely heard him over someone laughing loudly from the closest table.

  Wow. "I hate thinking about how long," I said with a slow head shake. "We were so young.”

  The last time we saw each other, he’d revealed a big secret to me, and I hadn’t handled it so well, unfortunately. My reaction had haunted me for years after, never going away, really.

  "Listen, the last time we saw each other," I said, but he waved his hand.

  I moved closer to hear him. We had a rowdy bunch tonight. “It was a long time ago," he said. "Don't worry about it."

  "I have worried about it, over the years," I said at a near-shout, glad to finally be able to explain myself. "I was going through a few things that skewed the way I responded, and I always regretted it. Once I moved back here, I looked you up and your parents told me you'd gone into the service.”

  "That's all they told you?” A strange look glanced over his face, but he quickly went back to a pleasant smile.

  They hadn't said anything else I could remember that would make him ask. “Yeah..." I nodded. “Should they have said something else?

  “No, no, just wondering if they told you where I served or anything." I shook my head, and he took a drink of his beer as I looked over at my friends. Every freaking one of them was staring at me and Max.

  Looking at him out of the corner of my eye, I shook my head at my friends while he waved over at his own friends, who had taken over two tables in the corner of the room near the dartboard.

  Ignoring Corey, who was making kissy-faces at me, I walked around Max so that he faced away from my well-intentioned, yet foolish, friends.

  2

  Max

  Carson looked exactly the same as he had the last time I’d seen him. My parents had told me he owned the brewery, and I’d considered coming several times to see him, but hadn’t gotten up the nerve. And they hadn't mentioned that he'd asked about me. If I'd known, I would've come sooner to say hello.

  Having my unit buddies come into town had been the perfect excuse. If seeing Carson ended up being too much for my anxiety to take, I knew I could excuse myself and rejoin my friends.

  "You're like a new man," Carson said. "You filled out quite a bit." Carson seemed genuinely happy to see me, and his apology was surprisingly sincere. I hadn't expected that. He'd made his feelings perfectly clear the last time we'd seen each other.

  "Literally," I muttered under my breath as I chuckled and looked down at myself. I'd certainly lost some of my definition since leaving the military, but I still worked hard to stay as fit as possible. My injury would never make a victim out of me.

  "What was that?" Carson asked with an inquisitive expression. The room was pretty loud. Not the best atmosphere for a heartfelt apology and reunion. But, oh, well.

  "I, uh, said that I nearly had to die to get a discharge."

  He cocked his head, a startled expression on his face. Maybe my parents really hadn't told him what happened to me. I was glad. After, in the hospital, they'd flown out to see me and I'd asked them to keep it under wraps. I didn't want my injury to define me if I ever decided to come home.

  Corey's voice interrupted us before Carson could ask me what I'd meant. "How do you two crazy kids know each other?"

  I held out my hand to my new friend. "How are you?"

  He pulled me into a quick hug. "You rescued me, so you get hugs."

  "Rescue?" Carson asked, watching the interaction between Corey and me.

  "Yeah, the last time I saw Max, he saved me from my parents right here at the brewery."

  I hadn't realized it at the time, but I'd given Corey a ride to the brewery—and then back home. He'd been upset and panicked the entire time. I couldn't leave him or tell him no. I understood panic too well. It had only been a couple of weeks before, and he was certainly in a better mood.

  "How's that going?" I asked.

  "Weird," he said with a twist of his lips. "It’s been so long, and there's so much history and bad blood between us. But they're making an effort, and I'm determined to have a family after so long without one. So, I'm optimistic."

  "Family is important," Carson said. "But I don't know if I really want my parents moving to Three Lakes, getting all up in my business."

  I snorted. "Yeah, it's not the best." My mom and dad meant well, but they'd been smothering me. "I got out as fast as I could."

  "Where are you staying?" Carson asked.

  Corey answered for me. "Ian's old place."

  Recognition dawned in Carson's eyes. "You're Ian's new renter?" He laughed and shook his head. "I never connected the Maxwell he mentioned to you. I feel silly now that I see all the clues I had.”

  "So, you two know each other?" Corey asked with interest. Unless I was very mistaken about the character of my new friend, he was a total busybody.

  "For many years," Carson said with a smile at me. "We used to spend all summer together."

  "Oh?" Corey raised one eyebrow and gave us a speculating look.

  "Stop," I said with a laugh. "We were kids. We hiked and swam and biked all over this town, which was considerably smaller then. You think it's small now?"

  "Ugh, what, the town only had two horses then instead of three?" He laughed. "I'm going to go sit down," he continued before I could defend my tiny hometown. "You two enjoy getting to know one another again." With a wink at Carson, Corey returned to a table full of men. All three of them looked past Corey. At me.

  Great. Ian, Nate, and Brady waved at me as Corey sat down with them.

  "They mean well," Carson said. "But there's not a lot that goes on here in town, so you and your platoon of hot men will probably be the topic of conversation for a while.

  "Unit," I corrected before I thought better of it.

  "Sorry, unit."

  It was time to break away and return to my friends. They'd been shooting looks at us for a while as I ignored them. They had beer and darts, they'd be fine as I said hello to an old friend, but I didn't want the delay to venture into rudeness.

  "It was really nice seeing you again," I said as Carson opened his mouth.

  He laughed, looking into my eyes a little too intimately. "I was about to say the same thing," he said so softly I nearly didn't hear him over the hum of conversation in the room.

  Someone must've put a quarter in the jukebox right at that moment, because an old country love song blared over the loudspeakers. At the same moment, a skinny server picked up a tray full of draft beer and bottles, turned toward the door, and dropped the entire tray. Beer and glass went everywhere.

  "Son of a bitch," the server said. Carson shot him a hellacious look before turning to the bartender. "Pearl, remake the drinks." He looked at the server again. "Get the customers their replacement drinks while I clean this up." His voice was ice. Whoa. He really didn't l
ike that kid.

  I spotted a broom and dustpan behind the counter, so I grabbed it and came around, sweeping up the bigger shards of glass.

  "You don't have to do that," Carson exclaimed as he ran around the counter. "But if you would make sure no customers come through and slip in the liquid while I get the shop vac?"

  He didn't even give me time to say I'd be happy to help before he disappeared into the back. I kept sweeping up the large pieces. The shop vac would be great for the smaller, but I'd get the large ones out of the way.

  As Carson plugged in the large vacuum, I went into the room he’d gotten it from and looked for a mop. Of course half the customers in the bar had come up front after the spill to get drinks or look at what happened, keeping his bartender too busy to help.

  A mop sink in the corner of the utility room drew my eye, so I mixed up a mop solution and took the bucket out just as Carson turned off the loud machine.

  "You’re amazing," he said. "You really didn’t have to do this." He tried to take the mop from me, but I waved him off.

  "Go take care of that." I nodded my head at the vac. "I’ve got this."

  He wheeled it to the back and ran back out with a wet floor sign. "Probably should’ve put this up in the first place," he said with a shrug.

  Carson took the mop, wheeling it to the back room and leaving it. "I’m supposed to be off tonight," he said with a laugh.

  "I guess since you're renting an apartment you're planning to stay in the area?" Carson asked, handing me another beer. I'd set mine down to clean up, but it was gone. Oh, well, I'd mopped, that deserved another beer. At least I was good enough for that.