Chapter 24
The heat and humidity hadn’t let up all week, and as Rosie and Cruz walked hand and hand into the bar in Murphysboro, she welcomed the blast of air conditioning. “Oooh, that feels good.” She shook out her hair as they showed their IDs to the guy at the door. The bouncer handed Rosie’s license back with a smile. “Have a nice night, miss.”
He kept his face impassive as he examined Cruz’s, then gave it back. “You’re good.”
Cruz laid a hand at the small of her back. “He thinks you’re hot.”
“Pfft. He didn’t say that.”
Loud, fast-paced country music blared as they entered the spacious main room. Neon beer signs flickered next to wagon wheels attached to the walls. “He didn’t have to. I know it. It’s a guy thing.”
“I don’t care about any other guys but you.” She hooked a finger into his belt loop.
“Good.” He scanned the tables ringing a large dance floor. “I’ll have to punch anyone who hits on you. I’m beginning to think I shoulda requested your shorts.”
She’d worn a red halter style dress—his choice, after she showed him her clothing options. It hugged her waist and flared out over her hips, ending just above her knees. As soon as she’d put it on, his eyes had turned predatory. She’d left her hair loose because she knew how much Cruz liked it.
“Next time,” she murmured as he guided them to a tall table near the bar.
Cruz scooted her chair in. “Want anything to drink?”
She paused. She rarely drank. She hadn’t sworn off alcohol after her accident, but it often left a bitter taste in her mouth, both literally and figuratively. It reminded her of losing control and that terrified her. Once in a while, she had a glass of wine to celebrate something. And tonight, she was willing to celebrate the wonderful last few months with Cruz. She wasn’t worried about losing control, and if she got a little tipsy, she trusted him implicitly. Nothing would happen to her, not when he was around. “White wine. Pinot Grigio?”
“You got it.” He left, and since the bar wasn’t crowded yet, he was back in a minute. He set his draft beer and her wine down, and settled on the chair next to her. Not opposite her.
She smiled. “We have this one cute old couple who comes into the Grille every Sunday for supper, and they sit on the same side of the booth. Never seen ‘em sit across from each other.”
“Yeah?” He locked those slate eyes on her in a gaze that stole her breath. More intense than his usual. “Now that’s something to aim for.”
Something in the way he said it…or rather, what he left unsaid, made her whole world slow down. She’d meant her comment to be a casual one, but in a heartbeat it morphed into a deeper insinuation. He made her want to crawl into his lap and never leave. He also made her feel that she should be strong enough to be honest and spill every detail of her life.
But she couldn’t do either, caught in the orbit of his stare. “Yeah.” She smiled and swung her attention to the front door where a dozen girls had burst in, one of whom wore a short veil. “Oh wow, it’s a bachelorette party.”
He spared them a short glance, then refocused on her. “Good for them. There’s only one girl I wanna look at.”
She smiled and sipped her wine, letting the fruity taste slide down her throat. The music changed to a slower song, one she loved. The dance floor cleared of all the single girls and a few couples meandered to the center.
“Wanna dance?” Cruz asked.
How could she say no? She smiled and took his hand.
He led her to the center of the dance floor, wrapping his arms around her waist. She linked her hands behind his neck. He’d worn a plaid button down short sleeve shirt. The button he left undone revealed a tan triangle of skin she wanted to kiss. A tendril of ink peeked along the lower part, part of the words that had symbolized the bleakness of his life, before.
Before he’d done a crazy thing like thrown a dart at a map and moved here.
The serendipity of it stole her breath. “I’m so lucky to be here with you,” she said softly.
“I’m the lucky one, pretty girl. Didn’t know what to expect, coming to the south.”
She giggled. “You could’ve ended up in the bayou, with gators and all.”
“I’ll take the wildlife here, thank you very much.” He ran a hand up her back, part of which was bared by the dress. They rocked slowly, pressed together from hip to chest, and she didn’t know when she’d ever felt this content. “Damn,” he murmured.
“What?”
“Is this singer in my brain, or what?” Cruz shook his head. “I swear he said he wanted to get his girl undressed and out of this place.”
“It’s by Michael Ray. He’s awesome.” She scratched her nails lightly on his neck.
“Dude knows his shit,” Cruz muttered.
“Are you turning into a country music fan?” She grinned.
“Can’t help it, when it’s everywhere down here.” He held onto her as the song ended and another slow one started. They stayed on the dance floor for two more slow songs. Rosie just breathed in his delicious masculine scent and let him hold her. She could stay locked in this bubble forever. Just the two of them, dancing here all dressed up. Or just them, in bed with him driving her out of her mind. Or just cruising on empty country roads.
Anything with him was perfect. Anything with him made her happy. She’d never thought too far in the future, but it loomed over her now. She knew he didn’t see her as a hook up, or a summer fling. And that scared her as much as it made her tummy flip.
The music changed to a faster song that was tearing up the current country charts. Rosie and Cruz looked at each other and at the same time said, “Wanna sit down?”
She giggled and he wrapped a big arm around her and steered her to their table, through dozens of people streaming onto the dance floor.
“I’m gonna get a refill. Want anything?” he asked.
“No, I’m good.” She still had a half glass of wine to finish.
“Be right back.”
“Okay.” The bar had become exponentially more crowded since they’d been dancing. Now the floor was so full of people that they almost reached their table. She peeked over her shoulder to see Cruz waiting in a throng, as bartenders hustled behind the U-shaped bar.
So distracted by his tall frame and broad shoulders, she didn’t see anyone walking toward her. Didn’t know, until it was too late.
“Cracklin Rosie, is that you?”
She whirled on her seat as dread bloomed in her stomach. Only one person called her by that stupid nickname. She found herself looking into the arrogant eyes of someone she never expected to see again. “Peter?”
Her ex-boyfriend. The one she’d been trying to get over in college. The one that had messed her up so badly that she got too drunk and wrecked her car…and her life.
Not just her life.
He’d been gone already, moved who knew where. He never called, never acknowledged what had happened to her. She hadn’t expected it because they had already broken up. She honestly never figured she’d see him again, and that was fine. She took responsibility for her actions. But now, an explosion of emotions hit her like a cannon blast.
Did he know about the crash? Her injuries?
Did he deserve to know…
The one little detail linking them after they’d broken up?
But it was over. Gone in a blink, a crash, a tree. For a second, the chill of snow dusted her arms. The vibration of an engine going way too fast. The slide of tires with no traction…
Rosie forced herself to breathe. What were the odds of running into him here?
“It is you! Shoot, girl! How long’s it been? Five, six years?” Peter stared at her chest. “You look good.”
Her throat was dry. She needed to tell him to leave. But she couldn’t get words out.
“Yeah, guess it’s a surprise to run into each other here,” he went on, as if this was somehow normal. His eyes raked her hair, her entire upper body. “How ya been?”
“Good.” She pushed the word out. “You should leave.”
He took a half step back. “What? Is that any way to talk to an old friend?” He had the nerve to act pissed. “I’m almost offended.”
Peter had been handsome before. Blond hair, blue eyes, he’d played football in high school and had been in shape—then. Now, he was definitely bigger in the middle. “Well, it was a weird coincidence that you’re here and so am I, but you really should go.” Cruz would kill him.
“Are you here with someone? Is that the problem?” Peter scanned the room. “What kind of idiot would leave you sitting here alone, in that dress, looking completely fuckable?”
His puffy cheeks reddened. What had she ever seen in him? What had the other girl seen in him—the one he cheated on her with? The half decade hadn’t been kind to him. And now he had the nerve to stand at her table and cuss? “You need to walk away. Now.” If not because she’d asked three damn times, then for his own sake, because Cruz would be back soon.
“Listen to you, all bossy.” His smile was lecherous. “I like it. You and me had some good times, remember?”
What planet was he on? “Before you slept with someone else?”
“Aww, now don’t be like that. I’m sorry.” He leaned one arm on the table, getting too close. “How about I buy you a drink and we catch up?”
A whoosh of air behind her was her only warning. Cruz appeared at her side and grabbed Peter by the throat. “How about you go fuck yourself? And while you’re jerking off your tiny two-inch dick, remember to never, ever,” his voice was feral, “talk to my girl again.”
Cruz flexed his fingers into the man’s neck and hoped it would take the edge off his rage. Rosie’s discomfort had been clear as a fucking neon sign and that made him insane. Every fight instinct in him tore to vibrant life. A tiny voice cautioned him that he walked a fine line.
But with Rosie, that line was blurred. He’d do anything for her.
The man gasped and wheezed, grabbing futilely at Cruz’s hand.
Rosie leaned close to him. “Cruz,” she said softly but with urgency. Her perfume swirled around him, a reminder of her sweetness and why he’d come between any man and her, from now on. “Please stop. Let go. He’s not worth it. Not worth getting in trouble over.” She laid a hand on his bicep.
Her touch was soft, familiar, reassuring, and it brought him back from the precipice of fury. He released the asshole, who stumbled back.
The man coughed and swore and rubbed his neck. Straightening, he glared at Rosie. “Shit, Rosie. Where the hell’d you find this guy?”
What the fuck? A new tendril of emotion shot through Cruz. Not a good one. He wanted her to not know this douchebag, to have him never be a part of her universe. But he had to know. He swung his focus to her. “You know this guy?”
She swallowed. “We dated. A long time ago. His name is Peter.”
“Aw, it wasn’t that long ago. Seems like yesterday. And all I wanted was to say hello tonight.” Peter made a scoffing sound. “Didn’t know you’d turned into a cold-ass bitch who hooked up with a fucking pit bull.” He scowled, then as if in a delayed reaction, he chuckled. “Ha. Bitch, pit bull. You deserve each other.”
For a split second, time stopped. Cruz was aware of his fist clenching, of Peter’s sneer, of Rosie behind him. Only for a second.
Then his fist was flying forward. It smashed Peter’s jaw with a satisfying crack. Rosie gasped and the crowd around them backed up, leaving a circle that in seconds drew the attention of the entire place. Peter staggered back but didn’t fall, and came up swearing, fists raised.
He charged Cruz, angling a shoulder into his middle. But Cruz had fought too many fights to ever lose one to some overweight pompous dick in a bar. He grabbed and twisted Peter’s shoulders, turning so he could snare him in a chokehold.
The crowd cheered. Above people’s heads, he spotted bouncers running toward them. Peter sputtered. But he wasn’t going anywhere.
“Cruz, let him go. I don’t want you to get arrested.” Rosie pleaded in his ear. “Please. I mean it. He’s not worth it. I just want you to take me home.”
A burly man taller than Cruz pushed through the crowd. “Break it up, men. Time for you both to leave.”
“Cruz.” Rosie’s voice took on a note of anguish.
A link snapped in his mind, and he released the jackass. Peter dropped like a stone but leaped to his feet, glaring. “Fuck you.”
“Ignore him.” Rosie grabbed Cruz’s shoulders. “Take me home. Okay?”
Wide blue eyes gazed up at him with worry and urgency. But nothing in her gaze was casual. It was deep, caring…He pulled her tightly against him. “Okay.” He just breathed her in, felt her softness next to him, felt her hands caressing his shoulders. “You okay?”
“I’m fine.” She pulled back to study him. She caressed his jaw and then reached for his hand. “Let’s go.”
He led her out, past people who looked at his arms and shot him wary glances. Past people who nodded, saying Peter was asking for it. But he blocked it all out. The rage-fueled adrenaline swirled in his veins, but Rosie’s touch calmed him. Her body tucked close to his was a security blanket he didn’t expect.
No one had ever been there to take the edge off his anger. It was always just another fight, another theft.
Dark humidity hung thick in the air as they exited. Damn. He hustled Rosie to his truck without speaking, needing to get out of here ASAP. He cranked the air conditioning and the engine to life and peeled out of the parking lot.
“I’m sorry I ruined our dancing night,” he muttered.
She angled toward him in the seat, something she liked to do. He liked it too, glancing over to see her pretty face looking at him. “You didn’t ruin it. He did.”
“I was walking back from the bar and saw you. Saw him looking at you like you were a piece of meat.” His hand clenched on the wheel. “No one is allowed to look at you like that. Ever.”
“I told him to go away. He didn’t listen.”
“He just walked up to you and started talking?”
She nodded.
“How long ago did you date him?” And what the hell had she seen in a loser like that…
Short choppy breaths drew his focus to her. “Rosie? Seriously, did he hurt you in any way?”
She shook her head. “No. It’s just that…that…I dated him in college.”
The last word hug in the air, nearly dissipating before he realized what she said. College. She’d dated a guy in college, they broke up, and then she’d… “He was the one you…you were trying to get over, that night?” Cruz steered the truck to the side of the road and reached for her.
She nodded. “He was different …not fat. Not such an ass. But still an ass. Enough of one that he cheated on me. That’s why we broke up.”
“Shit.” Cruz wrapped an arm around her. “I’m sorry he hurt you. But I’m not sorry you two broke up. He’s a loser.”
“I know.” She sniffled. “Which makes the accident seem even worse. Like, why did it have to happen over him? He didn’t even know. I guess he still doesn’t. And that’s fine. He wouldn’t care.”
“He didn’t deserve you.”
A fresh wave of tears started to fall and Cruz had never felt so bad at offering comfort. So he shut up and just held her, stroked her hair. If she hadn’t seen him…if they’d been broken up since before her accident, he could see how tonight would be like a nuclear bomb. He thanked the stars he was the one with her—that she hadn’t been out with girlfriends who may have thrown insults but couldn’t physically subdue a guy that size.
“I’m sorry.” She swiped at tears that soaked his shirt. “I—I can’t pull it together.”
“Shh, baby, you don’t need to. Fall apart all you need to. I got you. I always will.” The last words slipped out of his mouth before he could stop them. But…
They were true. Hell. Deep in his heart, something relaxed and bloomed. They were true. But her shoulders only shook harder. And he was having an epiphany. Rosie was his girl.
Not for the summer.
He wanted her forever.
“Shh, pretty girl.” Her sobs went on and on. He started to remind her it was over, it was in the past, that asshole was gone…but it wasn’t gone. Not for her, not ever. She carried the scars and consequences. Ah, hell.
To have what she had taken away was the worst of injustices. He could say that. And he would say it, until the end of time. He may be the only one who could.
But as her sadness wracked her lungs, images shifted in his mind. How good she was with Brenda’s children. The shadows that would sneak up on her, betraying her sunny nature for those split seconds before she could hide it.
Those damn shadows. He’d chase them away forever if he could. She was his light, the brightest thing in his life. He wouldn’t lose her, and he wouldn’t let anything dim her spirit. But as she cried herself into a blubbering mess, he knew, intrinsically, that she wasn’t just crying over her idiot ex-boyfriend. That she wasn’t only reliving the crash.
That something unnamed, that deep hurt?
He needed to know what haunted her. “Rosie.” He slid a finger under her jaw, trailing through rivers of tears, and tilted her head up. “What else happened?”