Chapter 12

Aurora

Table after table of customers got up and shuffled to Jarryd and Felicity. They begged for photos and autographs, and Jarryd obliged every time. It was sweet of him, sure, but it didn’t do anything to make me feel better.

He hadn’t glanced up at me once this entire time.

The smells of cooking, the usual chatter, and the chef’s low hum in the kitchen, all of the things that’d always made me feel so at home now did the exact opposite, now. God, I had to take a break. Get outside and get some fresh air.

“You OK, Aurora?” Jerry nudged me.

I flinched. “I’m fine. Just a lot of commotion in here.”

“What I tell you about these lookie loos? Only interested in one thing, and it’s that guy over there. Look at them. They’re clogging up the entrance.”

How had I ever thought I could handle anything with Jarryd? What, had I expected to see him again? To be in a relationship with a man who couldn’t have dinner without being swamped by people who looked at me like I was… a slug? Not all of them, sure, but enough that it made me uncomfortable.

Then again, I hadn’t thought a damn thing when I’d fallen into bed with him the first time. It’d been all emotion and raw animal lust.

“I need a beer,” I muttered.

“Have one,” Jerr said. “Pour me one, too, while you’re at it. You know the policy.”

Two drinks a night. One at the start of shift, and one right at the end. Enough to ease the transition into serving and out of it.

I got two beer glasses down, slotted the first beneath the spout then tugged on the lever. I poured, and the golden liquid rose against the tilted glass. Just enough foam on top to satisfy. I handed it over. “There you go.”

“Appreciate it,” Jerr said. “I’ll go part the crowds out there. It’s one thing for the actor to give autographs, but this is killing the mood in here. People come here to eat, not to watch a show.” He knocked the beer back—total beer pro after years at the restaurant—then skedaddled.

I agreed with him, but my nerves jangled at the prospect of quiet in the restaurant. It would give Jarryd a chance to talk to me, or worse, Felicity a chance to comment on my profession of choice again.

I’d played it cool in front of her, but yeah, some of the rhetoric had eaten at me—she gave off the same vibe many others had in the past. It was the same attitude my mother had tired of in the end.

Jerry sauntered to the group of tourists. “All right, all right. That’s enough. This isn’t a damn sideshow, folks. Either sit down and eat something or get the heck out. You leave these people in peace, now.”

A murmur from the crowd. Jarryd snapped one last picture with a teenager—both of them threw up peace signs—then sat down at the table again. Felicity lavished him with a smile, all teeth, and patted his arm.

How possessive can one woman get? They’re over. Why would she keep touching him? But it had only been two weeks, and they’d been together for years. Those feelings didn’t dissipate that quickly.

Jarryd looked up at last, a quick flick of those crystal blue eyes, deep as oceans. His lips twitched up at one corner.

I broke eye contact. I’d promised myself I wouldn’t get involved in anything complicated and gone right ahead and done it anyway. So much for my usual sense of self-control, damn.

“Hey, there.” The honeyed tone of his voice, glib as always, followed by the scratch of keys on the bar top, sent a shiver down my spine.

“James,” I said and faced my jock ex.

He stood at the bar, one tan forearm resting on the wood, worn by years of use. He’d chosen a Polo shirt for the night’s festivities, blue, collar popped—classic douche look, jeez—and styled his dirty blond hair with a center part and a side-wave. James had always been naturally handsome, but those weasel-eyes betrayed his character.

“You’re working here again. This brings back old times.” He touched his hair—didn’t scrape his fingers through it, a light touch on the side. “Remember when we hung out here?”

“I remember,” I said. Not that I wanted to. The “happy” memories didn’t exactly fill me with joy.

“You were such a nerd,” he replied then cuffed me on the shoulder in what he likely thought was a sweet gesture. “Remember how I used to beg you to slip us some booze from behind the bar?”

“Oh, yeah.”

“And you never did. Two years you worked in this dive, and you never gave us a single taste.” The “us” was him and the boys. His clan of jock buddies who made crude jokes and bonfires at their parents’ summer homes. “I admire you for that, Aurora. You never caved to peer pressure.”

“OK,” I said. What the fuck was I supposed to say? Thanks? Thanks a lot, dude who mocked me in front of his jock friends. Thanks a bajillion. Your approval is all I need in life?

“So, you’re staying then. In Moondance, I mean?”

“Looks like it.” I checked my tables, but they were either eating, drinking, or attended to by Jerr—he acted as manager and waiter whenever I needed a break, and intuitive as he was, had picked up on my reluctance when it came to “that actor table,” as he called it.

He looked up from taking an order, gave me a thumbs up, and raised his eyebrow, too.

I nodded. I’m all good. For now.

“If you’re going to stick around, you should come out and see my new place,” he said. “I’ve started renovating the kitchen. It looks fuckin’ rad.”

Rad. This guy’s an oversized teenager.

“I don’t live with my parents anymore,” he said. “Moved out a couple years ago when the lumber biz took off.”

“You’re still working for your father at the mill?” I picked up a glass and polished it.

“Not the menial labor, no. I’m a manager now.” James straightened his Polo shirt and checked his collar was still poppin’. “I make sure that everyone’s doing what they’re meant to. That they wear their safety gear. Important stuff, y’know?”

“Totally,” I said, in a monotone.

“Well, it’s great to see you again. And listen, I’m sorry if I was a little pushy the other day. It’s just that seeing you brings back a lot of memories for me,” he said. “I want to make up for the way I treated you back then. I was a kid and immature. I shouldn’t have made you feel less than what you were.”

Curiosity tugged at me. “Then why did you?”

“I don’t know. I wanted to maintain my image, I guess. That was the type of guy I was. But hey, I’ve changed, look at me now,” he said and flicked a hand over his buff chest. Good Jesus, his nipples were pricking holes in the damn shirt. “I’m a whole new man.”

“In what sense?”

“In the sense that I’m remorseful for my actions. I’ve come a long way, Aurora. I’d kill for a second chance with you.”

I sighed and put down the beer glass. It almost tipped over, and I caught it, set it upright. “I’m sorry, James, but I’m not interested in pursuing anything with you. I forgive you for what you said, but some things aren’t forgotten. Can you understand that?”

His lips writhed in place, a strange pale dance of contempt. They curled back, pushed forward. “You’re giving up an opportunity here, Aurora. You should reconsider.” The smooth-as-peanut-butter tone had vanished. His voice was flat, forced.

“This isn’t a business transaction, James.”

My ex’s jaw clenched, and he strained forward, knuckles white and fingers pressed against the bar top. “You realize I can have any woman in this town. Any woman I want. And I’m here with you. You realize that, right?”

“I’m not interested. And if you can have any woman, why don’t you go out and find someone else. Why me?”

“Because you’re mine,” he grunted. “You were always mine. From the minute you came to town. No one else wanted you, but I took you, and that means you’re mine. You lost your virginity to me.”

My mouth dropped open. “Dude, I’m at work right now. Have you lost it?”

Footsteps clunked on the wooden boards behind James. I leaned to check who it was, but my ex slapped his hand onto the bar top. “Look at me!” he demanded, gaze cold.

I switched my focus back to him. “Stop that. This is a restaurant. You can’t act that way in here. You should leave.”

“I should leave?” James’ss laughter came out in a moist rumble. “You’re the one who should leave. No one in Moondance wants you here.”

“Apart from you, apparently,” I snapped back. “James, you always were a detestable prick. I only wish I’d seen it about you sooner and saved myself the embarrassment.”

He bubbled with anger, shifted, and fidgeted with the Rolex on his wrist. “Little bitch,” he hissed. “You’re nothing. You’re just like your mother.”

My mother had been everything, but it still stung. All those eyes on me, the judgment I’d thought I’d overcome, shriveled my nerves to wisps. “Get out of here, James. We reserve the right to refuse service to anyone, and that includes you.”

“My father is—”

“A founder, I know. Nobody cares.” God, I hoped I was right. Jerry would surely have kicked him out if he’d heard what James had said, but I didn’t want to make trouble for him or his restaurant.

It was only a pity trouble seemed to follow me around like a dog off its leash.

“Whore,” he grunted, and this time, loudly.

Even Jerry turned from his table and frowned at the disturbance. He clicked his tongue then started for the office door in back.

“Get out,” I said, firmly.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

A massive hand landed on James’ shoulder, and I followed it from wrist, up a suited arm, and to Jarryd’s face. His cheeks were red, lips curled back in a rictus over perfectly whitened teeth. “She told you to leave,” he growled. “So leave.”

James shrugged off the grip and circled, a predator seeking its prey, and finding only another predator. The two of them squared off, James only a little shorter than the actor. Every eye in the establishment widened, phones came out and were raised.

All on the record. Oh shit. Hadn’t Jarryd wanted to keep his visit as quiet as possible?

“What are you, her savior?” James chuckled again.

Jarryd puffed his chest out and took a step forward, practically busting from his suit. “Listen here, you little shit. You were told to leave, and if you don’t, I’ll drag you out myself.”

“Typical.” That came from Felicity in the corner. “Honey, come sit down!”

Jarryd placed his hand on James’ shoulder again and dug his fingers into the shirt, thumb biting into the flesh up near the collar bone. “I’ll fucking break you if you speak to her like that again,” he whispered. “Do you understand me? I’ll snap you like the twig you are.”

James slapped his hand onto the actor’s shoulder and mimicked his action. “I beg you to try. I fucking beg you.” James had been on the football team, he’d boxed in his spare time, and he’d been a track star.

But Jarryd’s muscle spoke of practical experience, and I’d witnessed his strength firsthand.

Either way, I wasn’t interested in finding out who’d win in a fight between Batman and the Joker. “Stop it,” I said, strident. “This is a family establishment, and you’re ruining everyone’s evening.”

“Hear that?” Jarryd said and cocked his head toward me. “It’s time for you to leave.” He balled his free hand into a fist. “Or do you need another incentive?”

“Give me one.”

“That’s enough!” It came out as a desperate shriek, this time.

The office door slapped open in the corner, and Jerr marched out, toting a sawed-off shotgun. He leveled it at the two of them and a round of gasps, followed by total silence, ensued. “Yo,” Jerry yelled.

The two men looked at him then at each other then at him again.

“Are you for real?” James asked.

“I’ve had just about enough of this damn circus tonight. You,” he said, and gestured to James with the sawed-off, “can get out of my establishment.”

“Are you—?”

“Now, princess!” Jerr jerked the sawed-off toward him, and the patrons in the restaurant ducked and yelped, exchanging glances. All except Felicity, who tapped on the screen of her cell and rolled her eyes.

What had she meant by “typical?” Did Jarryd usually get into fights like this?

“Fine,” James said and finally let go of the actor. He stepped back, dropping his arm. “But I’ll be seeing you again.” He nodded to Jarryd then cast that iced gaze in my direction. “And you, too.”

“You heard the man,” Jarryd said. “Get out.”

James ignored the words but marched out regardless, and let the door slam shut behind him.

“That goes for you, too, Marlon Brando.” Jerr relaxed slightly but didn’t put down the shotgun. “You and your troop of monkeys. Out of my restaurant, now.”

Jarryd jerked back, blinked then bobbed his chin once. He glanced at me, too, and I couldn’t quite place the look or what it meant, only that his eyes swam with something unspoken. A promise?

The actor beckoned to Luke, not to Felicity then made for the exit, cutting a refined image even now, back straight.

They left in a row, Felicity’s heels clicking on the boards, and the door swung shut behind them.

“All right,” Jerr said and hefted the gun. “Is there anyone else who wants to make an fool of themselves? Anyone?” The patrons averted their eyes or shook their heads. “Good. Now, eat your damn food and enjoy yourselves.”

I sank back against the side of the bar and pressed my hand to my forehead. What the hell have you gotten yourself into, girl?