There was a part of me that wished I drank while I bartended, because after the kind of day I had, I’d get good and plastered tonight. But alas, I was pretty sure the owner of Mona’s would so not appreciate me passing out behind the bar, tucked in next to the service well.
Jackson James, more commonly known as Jax and who truly did have a name that sounded like he belonged on the cover of Tiger Beat, had cleaned up Mona’s with nothing more than elbow grease and pure grit and determination. The bar had been a crap hole before he came along, rumored to be nothing more than a druggie hangout, but not anymore.
He circled his arms around his girlfriend Calla’s waist. Her response was immediate and so endearingly natural. She leaned into him as they stood not too far from the worn pool tables, grinning at another couple.
Hell, there were couples everywhere. It was like it was couples night at Mona’s and someone forgot to tell me.
Cameron Hamilton and his fiancée, Avery Morgansten, sat at one of the tables, a beer in front of him and a glass of soda in front of her, being their normal super cute. Avery had this amazingly gorgeous red hair and freckles, looking like she could be a walking ad for Neutrogena, and Cam was handsome in that all-American way.
It was Jase Winstead and Cam’s younger sister Teresa who Jax and Calla were talking to. Those two were simply striking together, like the Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie of Mona’s. Then there were Brit and Ollie, blond bombshells, the latter who was explaining to one of the guys holding a pool stick that there are fifty-two Fridays in 2015 . . . or something equally bizarre as that. The last time I’d talked to Ollie, he told me about how he was starting up a business where he was selling leashes . . . for tortoises. Wow.
Adjusting the glasses I probably should be wearing all the time, I let my gaze drift back to Calla and Jax, and I felt my lips spread into a smile as I reached for the bottle of Jack. Witnessing two people who truly deserved to be loved fall in love was probably the most amazing thing to see. It made my teeny-tiny heart all mushy when she tipped her chin up and Jax dropped a kiss on her lips.
Tonight was about them—well, about her. She was leaving on Monday, heading back to Shepherd and Jax had closed the bar down tonight for a little going-away party—the private party that I’d told Charlie about.
Pouring a Jack and Coke for Melvin, who was older than Father Time and practically had his own stool at the bar, I grinned as he winked and grabbed the short glass. “That’s love right there.” He spoke over the old rock-and-roll song that was playing, nodding in the direction of Calla and Jax. “The kind that lasts.”
Actually, it was like love threw up in the bar. Even Dennis, who worked with Reece and his brother, was here with his wife. They were all cuddled up together. But Melvin was right, and it made me a little sad, because I’d be pouring myself into bed all by my lonesome tonight.
Oh well.
“Yeah, it is.” Sliding the bottle back on the shelf, I leaned against the bar top. “You want wings or anything?”
“Nah, sticking to the real deal tonight.” He lifted the glass as I raised a brow. “It’s good about those two,” he added after taking a drink. “That girl, you know, she ain’t had the easiest life. Jax will . . . yeah, he’ll take good care of her.”
I was of the mindset that Calla didn’t need Jax to take care of her, that she could do it all by herself, but I got what he was saying in that old-fashioned way of his. One just had to look at her to know that some bad—real bad—things had happened. She had a scar on her left cheek, one she didn’t try to hide so much anymore, and she’d told me what the fire had done to the rest of her body. It had happened when she was a young girl, and she’d ended up losing her whole family. Her brothers had died, and her mom dived off the deep end, while her dad had bounced, unable to deal.
So like I said, it was amazing seeing someone who really deserved love find it.
Melvin tilted his grizzly cheek toward me as I straightened the glasses perched on my nose. “So what about you, Roxy-girl?”
Looking around the half-empty bar, I frowned. “What do you mean what about me?”
He gave me a toothy grin. “When you gonna be out there with your arms around some man?”
I snorted. Couldn’t help myself. “Not anytime soon.”
“Famous last words,” he replied, tipping his glass to his lips.
Shaking my head, I laughed. “Ah, no. Not famous. Just true.”
He frowned as he slid off the stool. “I saw you going into that Italian place with that one boy last week. What’s his name?”
“I like to think I don’t date boys,” I teased. “So I have no clue who you’re talking about.”
Melvin finished off his drink in a way that must’ve made his liver proud. “You date a lot, little lady.”
Shrugging a shoulder, I couldn’t argue with that statement. I did date a lot and actually some of the guys did act like boys, thinking that a cheap dinner at the Olive Garden meant they were getting some action afterward. I mean, geez, it should be a rule somewhere that said filet and lobster had to be on the menu before second base could be achieved.
“Yeah, well, what about the one who looked wet behind the ears? The redhead kid,” he said. “Yeah, he had red hair and some peach fuzz on his face.”
Peach fuzz? Oh geez, I bit down on my lip to stop from laughing, because I knew who he was thinking of and the poor guy seriously couldn’t grow facial hair. “You’re talking about Dean?”
“Whatever,” he said dismissively. “I don’t like him.”
“You don’t know him!” I pushed off the bar, grinning as he rolled his eyes. “Dean’s actually a pretty nice guy, and he’s older than me.”
Melvin grunted. “You need to get with a real man.”
“You volunteering?” I threw back.
That got a deep, throaty laugh out of him. “If I was younger, girl, I’d show you a good time.”
“Whatever,” I laughed, folding my arms across the lettering on my T-shirt, which said HUFFLEPUFF DOES IT BETTER. “You want another drink? Beer, though, because it’s obvious you don’t need any more liquor.”
He snickered in my direction, but quickly got all serious face with me. “You got someone walking you to your car when you get off?”
I thought that was a weird question. “One of the guys always walks me to my car.”
“Good. You need to be careful,” he went on. “I’m sure you heard about the girl over in the Prussia area? She’s around your age, lives alone, and works late. Some guy followed her home, messed her up pretty badly.”
“I think I remember hearing something about that on the news, but I thought it was some guy she knew. An ex-boyfriend or something.”
He shook his head as he took the bottle of beer I offered. “Last I heard, he was cleared. They think it was a stranger. Prussia ain’t far from here, and you remember that girl who disappeared about a month ago. Shelly Winters, I think was her name. She lived over in Abington Township? They still ain’t found her.” He tipped the bottle at me, and I vaguely remembered seeing Missing Persons photos shared on Facebook. If my memory served me right, she was a pretty girl with blue eyes and brown hair. “Just be careful, Roxy.”
Leaning against the bar, I frowned as Melvin ambled off. Now that was kind of a creepy turn in our conversation.
“Wanna make a bet?”
I turned and looked waaay up at Nick Dormas. He took tall, dark, and brooding to a whole new level, and the girls who came in here ate it right up. He had an “I’m gonna break your heart” allure, and yet the girls kept on flocking to him. I was a little surprised he was talking, because he rarely spoke to anyone besides Jax, and I had no idea how he hooked up with so many chicks when he was as quiet as a mime. Nick was a hit-it-and-never-see-your-face-again kind of guy. I once overheard Jax telling him he couldn’t ban chicks he’d banged from the bar just because Nick didn’t want to see them again. “For what?”
Grabbing the bottle of tequila, he nodded in Jax’s direction. “He’ll be down to Shepherd before the week is out.”
A grin tugged at my lips as I stepped back, giving him access to the rack of glasses. “Yeah, I’m not making that kind of bet unless I get to say yes, he’ll be down there.”
Nick laughed softly, which was another strange sound, because it was also something he rarely did. I didn’t know what his deal was, he could be moody and he was really bad boyfriend material, but I liked him. “Hey,” I said. “Guess what?”
He raised a brow.
“Banana.”
One side of his lips kicked up. “Is that like a code word for something?”
“Nope. Just felt like I needed to say it.” I grabbed a towel and swiped up a bit of spilled liquor. “But wouldn’t that be a weird safe word during BDSM play? Like the chick yelling banana in the middle of sex? That would be so awkward.”
Nick stared at me.
“I read this book once where the girl yelled cat right before they were about to get some bow-chicka-bow-wow,” I told him. “It was high-larious.”
“Okay,” he murmured before wandering away.
Jax was standing by the bar, both brows raised. “What in the hell are you two talking about?”
I grinned at him and Calla. “Safe words used during BDSM.”
Calla’s eyes widened. “Um, all right, wasn’t expecting that.”
A giggle escaped me, and in the moment, I felt a lot lighter than I had the whole day. “You two want something to drink?” I looked at Calla and smiled like the Joker on meth. “How about tequila?”
She drew back, and I almost expected her to hiss at me. “Hell no. I don’t want any of that devil’s juice.”
Jax chuckled as he dropped his arm over her shoulders and tucked her against his side, almost protectively. And that brought forth an aww moment from me. “I don’t know. It’s kind of cute when you cuddle a bottle,” he said.
Her cheeks flushed as she placed a hand on his lower stomach. “I think I’ll just stay away from that.”
I ended up forking over a Bud Light for him and a hard lemonade for her. “Like the shirt,” Calla commented as she cradled the bottle close to her pouted rosy lips. “I’m gonna miss you and your shirts.”
“I’m going to miss you, too!” I shrieked, and if I could actually climb over the bar, I would’ve thrown myself on her. “But you’re coming back, right? We have like joint custody of you.”
She laughed. “I’ll be back before you know it. You won’t even miss me.”
But I would totally miss her.
“I’m tagging along with her when she comes back.” Tess appeared beside her, smoothing a hand down the glossy length of her dark hair. “I like it here.”
Calla glanced over to where Jase was talking to Cam. “I hope you aren’t planning to leave him behind, because I don’t think that will work out well for you.”
“I’d never do such a thing.” Tess looked over at me. “He’s great arm candy to have around.”
My gaze traveled back to the silver-eyed hottie known as Jase. “True dat.”
“Okay, I think it’s time for me to go.” Jax dropped his arm as he pressed a kiss to Calla’s cheek. “Jase is dreamy, though! I’d do him.”
He’d said that loud enough that Jase sent us a confused look that he somehow managed to make look sexy, and I cracked up into a fit of hyena-type giggles.
Tess shook her head as she leaned into Calla. “All seriousness, both of us really like it up here. So do Cam and Avery. Good place to get away to.”
“And you can always come visit us,” Calla said to me.
I nodded absently as the door swung open. Only people who were close to Calla and Jax would be coming in tonight, and I expected it to be Katie since she hadn’t made an appearance yet, but that wasn’t who it was.
Reece walked in, wearing a variation of what he had on earlier today, and my stupid heart did a little jump. It was Friday night, and being a deputy, shouldn’t he be working?
Dammit.
He didn’t even look to where the guys were crowded around one of the tables. His attention immediately went to the bar. Our eyes locked. Girlie parts instantly engaged.
Double dammit.
Like every time I saw him, he took a bit of my breath away. Maybe it was the way he walked—oh hell, he was heading right for the bar! I veered around, my gaze landing on Nick. “I’m going to go check stock.”
“One of these days you’re going to tell me why you do this,” Calla muttered, and I didn’t hear what else she said, because I was hightailing my bony butt out of the bar.
Maybe it was a bitchy thing to do, because he’d been really thoughtful coming to find me this morning. It was something I’d thought about all afternoon. Well, about that and Henry Williams wanting to make amends.
Amends—as if that were truly possible.
God, I wanted to laugh as I dashed down the hall and dipped into the stockroom. Closing the door behind me, I leaned against it and blew out a breath, stirring a chunk of purple and brown hair that had fallen in my face. I didn’t want to think about Henry right now and as terrible as it sounded, I didn’t want to think about Charlie either. My mood was up, and I still had several hours left before my shift ended and I could crash.
So my mind danced its way over to Reece, and I still had no idea why he’d made a special trip to tell me about Henry. Granted, we’d been really good friends at one point, but for eleven months, there’d been a no-fly zone between us. He’d breached that, and I really didn’t know what to think about what it meant. It probably meant nothing—it couldn’t mean anything, because Reece . . . well, he’d really taken a hunk out of my heart eleven months ago.
And he didn’t even know it.
I waited a good five minutes, deciding that Reece would’ve gotten a drink from Nick by then. Pushing off the door, I tucked the strand of hair behind my ear and opened it.
“Criminy!” I shrieked, stumbling back into the stockroom.
Reece stood there, hands braced against the door frame, his chin dipped low and jaw hard. He did not look happy. “Are you done hiding?”
“I . . . I wasn’t hiding. N-not at all.” Heat flooded my cheeks. “I was doing stock.”
“Uh-huh.”
“I was!”
He arched a brow.
“Whatever. I need to get back out there, so can you kindly remove—”
“No.”
My mouth dropped open. “No?”
He straightened, but instead of backing off, he stalked forward, catching the door on the way in. The bicep in his right arm flexed as he slammed it shut. “You and I need to talk.”
Oh dear. “Buddy, there’s nothing we need to talk about.”
Reece kept coming toward me, and I was moving backward before I even knew what I was doing. I bumped into a shelf. Bottles rattled behind me, and then he was right in front of me, so close that when I inhaled, I could practically taste the crisp, fresh scent of his cologne.
Two hands landed on the shelf on each side of my shoulders and then he managed to lean in even further. His warm breath danced across my cheek. A fine shiver curled its way down my spine. Whoa. Girlie parts engaged, locked, and ready for takeoff.
I was so going to hit myself later.
“I’ve let this go on between us for far too long,” he said, and his stare snared my wide-eyed gaze. The blue . . . dang, it was cobalt—a blue that was hard to mix and capture with watercolors.
My tongue felt heavy. He hadn’t been this close since that night with all that whiskey. “Nothing is going on between us.”
“Bullshit, Roxy. You’ve been avoiding me for months.”
“Nuh-uh,” I said, and yeah, that was lame-sounding, but his mouth was right there, and I remembered clearly what his mouth felt like against mine. A wonderful combination of firm and soft, and I also recalled how strong he was. How he’d lifted me right off the floor and . . .
And I really needed to stop thinking about that right now.
“Eleven months,” he said, voice deeper. “Eleven months, two weeks and three days. That’s exactly how long you’ve been avoiding me.”
Holy crap, did he just count that out to me? Because he was totally right. That was exactly how long I’d been steering clear of him, in between the moments I’d told him to screw off.
“We’re going to talk about the last time you and I had a decent conversation.”
Oh no, we were so not going to talk about that.
He dipped his head, and his voice was right in my ear. When he spoke, my fingers tightened on the edge of the shelf I was hanging onto. “Yeah, babe, we’re going to talk about the night you drove me back to my place.”
I swallowed hard, unnerved. “You . . . you mean the night you were drunk off your ass, and I had to drive you home?”
Reece lifted his head and those eyes bored into mine. Neither of us spoke for a long moment, and I was thrust back eleven months, two weeks and three days ago. He’d been at the bar, and we’d been flirting with each other like we’d been doing every time we saw each other since he returned from overseas. But when he came back, it was like those years he’d been gone had washed away. Visions of marriage and making babies had danced in my head despite the fact I’d ordered myself not to read into the harmless flirting. But I’d been infatuated and I’d also been an idiot. That night, he’d asked me to drive him home, and I’d thought he was finally making a move—a really weird way to make a move, but I hadn’t really thought the whole thing through. I’d been crushing on this guy forever and I had been greedy with his attention, so I did it. When we’d gotten to his place, I’d followed him inside and I . . . I had been the one to really make the move.
Gathering up all the courage I had in me, I had kissed him, right inside his apartment, the moment he’d closed the door. Things had escalated quickly. Clothes had come off, body parts were most definitely touching, and I . . .
“I’d give anything to remember that night,” Reece continued, looking me straight on, and that voice got richer. “Anything to remember what it felt like being inside of you.”
Several things happened to me all at once. Muscles low in my belly tightened at the same moment disappointment swelled like a tide, washing away the anger flushing my system. I closed my eyes as I bit down on my lip.
Reece believed that eleven months, two weeks, and three days ago, we’d had sex—wild, animalistic against-the-wall sex, but he’d been too drunk to remember it. Too shitfaced to remember anything past the moment we’d gotten naked in the hallway.
I just hadn’t realized he’d been that far into his cups, which was stupid, because I bartended and knew when people were plastered and needed to be cut off. Hell, he’d asked me to drive him home, for crying out loud, but I had been so . . . so caught up in him. So damn hopeful and so beyond crushing, because it was more than that. I had fallen in love with him when I was fifteen and that hadn’t changed in all those years.
I’d stayed the night with him, and when he’d woken up the next morning, hungover and so damn apologetic, regretful and seconds from chewing his arm off to get away from me, my heart had cracked. And in the immediate weeks following that night, when he’d avoided me like I was infested with the plague, my heart had shattered.
The sad thing was Reece had it all wrong.
We hadn’t even gotten to the point where slot A fit into slot B. We hadn’t had sex that night. He’d barely made it to the bedroom before passing out, and I had stayed with him because I’d been worried and I thought . . . it didn’t matter what I thought, because we hadn’t had sex.