Ms. Peggy nodded back. “His uncle gave him his boat when he moved up north, but Roger never uses it, since he’s always working. If he gave it to you, you could decorate it and pull it on this thing.” She slapped the side of the truck. “Roger owes me a favor, and I can’t see me ever personally asking for one from him, anyway.”

“You could ask him to do your yard work,” Brady said, still hot despite his truck trying its best to cool off. If the window wasn’t down, the process would go a lot faster.

Ms. Peggy wasn’t a fan of the suggestion. She ignored him.

“I can go ahead and find some more decorations we could use to snaz the little thing up. Make it look really nice without all the work.”

Sloane had already perked up, but now she was almost bouncing in her seat.

“That would be amazing, Ms. Peggy! Are you sure, though? That’s asking a lot of you and not giving much else in return.”

Ms. Peggy waved the concern away.

Then she was staring daggers into Brady, expressing a sentiment that was starting to become mutual.

“As long as this one here doesn’t make me regret it, I’m good.”

Brady didn’t dignify the jab with a reply. Instead he looked longingly out the windshield while Sloane finished up the longest conversation in history.

It wasn’t until he had them driving out of the neighborhood that Brady finally felt free. And finally was able to bitch about it.

“I have to say, I knew this deal would be work, but I didn’t realize how much of it I’d be doing.” A bead of sweat rolled down his spine. It was a drop in the ocean. There was no way he was going to go to the bar later if he didn’t swing by the apartment to shower first.

Sloane let out a long breath.

“No one forced you to do the work. So any and all complaining about that makes no sense. Especially considering the fact that you doing it helped you, me, and the bar out. Ms. Peggy has saved us a fortune, not to mention physical labor, if we can get Roger to let us borrow his boat. Speaking of, I guess I need to text him and see if he’s home.”

Brady shook his head. “Oh no. No way. I’m not going to another quasi-stranger’s house just to get trapped again. A man can only take so much.”

Sloane snorted. It surprised him.

“You know, for a bartender in a small town, you don’t seem to be a fan of socializing with people in a small town.”

“Says the woman who’s currently trending for writing stuff down instead of saying it out loud.”