“What the hell’s a motif?”
“You know,” she said, fluttering her hand at him. “Theme.”
It was all Hank could do to keep from rolling his eyes. A country motif, for God’s sake! As if he’d actually had a theme in mind when he’d opened The End of the Road for business.
But then he remembered the compliments the clean windows had drawn and Leighanna’s warning that somebody might move into Temptation and open a new bar to compete against him. He’d already heard the rumors about a couple who were moving to town to open a clothing store. For all he knew, someone could very well be planning to open a bar. Hank knew he was stubborn, but he certainly wasn’t a fool.
He levered a pile of dimes into a stack. “I suppose if a person were of a mind,” he muttered, “they could pick up something like that over at Carter’s Mercantile.”
Surprised that he’d even consider her suggestion, Leighanna took a hesitant step toward him. “I could do it for you. In fact, I could measure the tables and cut the cloth myself.”
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