In an instant she had visions of Daniel continuing to come to the bar, of talking to him daily, as she’d quickly gotten used to. Of doing more than talking... She quickly squashed the thrill of excitement that flashed through her body at the idea that Daniel didn’t want to go elsewhere to stare at a drink. That he wanted to come here. To see her. Really, she should not be entertaining fantasies of Daniel—of any kind. It was better if he didn’t return to the bar. He had complicated written all over him and his mysterious bourbon. She did not need that.

Being close enough to be enveloped in his body heat wasn’t helping. “Sure. Whatever.” As if to compensate for her wayward thoughts, her attempt at nonchalance came out as complete indifference.

His eyes darkened below a briefly furrowed brow. He opened his mouth to speak, but Annika interrupted him. “I mean, it’s your bourbon. Go wherever you like.” Now she sounded downright mean.

He frowned as if hurt or disappointed. Time to get away before she did something she would regret further. Like take it all back and fall into his arms.

He shook his head at her. “Annika...” His phone rang out the tune of the Harry Potter theme. Even Annika knew that was his sister.

She stepped back from him. “You should take that.” She grabbed her apron and headed out into the bar so he could talk.

She heard his footsteps as he followed her out.

It wasn’t that Annika was eavesdropping. But Daniel took his calls at the bar and didn’t make any attempt at hiding his conversation. So, she was bound to hear some stuff. Though she hardly liked to admit it, she was curious about the rest of his life. Especially about that bourbon. Now she’d probably never find out.

It was just the beginning of happy hour. She was listening to his end of a conversation with his sister, Emma, when the door jingled, and her heart lightened.

Nilay entered the bar as if he entered bars all the time. He carried a brown paper bag that Annika knew had food from home.

She looked behind him, ready to tense at the sight of her father, but no one was there. “Did you drive here yourself?” She grinned. Her baby brother had a driver’s license.

He leaned over and gave her a hug as he placed a shopping bag on top of the bar. “Yes, Didi, I did.” He beamed. “And I passed Papa’s test, too, which means I can drive anywhere!”

Her father strongly believed that the MVA test was not enough, so he’d given them both an extra “driving test” when they were learning how to drive. Once they passed his test, he let them have the freedom they wanted. As a result, Annika, and now her brother, were both excellent drivers.