Chapter 2
Lexie folded her arms and leaned against the bar, surveying the crowded restaurant with an exhausted sigh. It was a full house tonight—every table teeming with well-fed and well-lubricated patrons. She loved the sight, loved the medley of people summer always brought with it. So far tonight, she’d chatted with a singer from Tennessee, a pilot from Montreal, and a cute couple on vacation all the way from Los Angeles. Who ever said small towns were boring?
Well, Annie had when she’d first moved here as a sullen seventeen-year-old, complaining that she’d rather be dipped in acid than live here. Lexie smiled at the memory, recalling how steadfast the black-finger-nailed, heavy eye makeup-wearing teen had been to get out as soon as she could. She never imagined that ten years later Annie would still be here, and that they’d be best friends.
“Oh, my god.” As if conjured by Lexie’s thoughts, Annie came to drop an empty tray on the bar beside her, perfect brunette ringlets bouncing around her angular face. “You know, just one time I’d like to be able to put a meal down in front of old man Rankin without him making a grab for my ass.” She shivered. “He’s so gross.”
“Right?” Lexie agreed, collecting some empty glasses off a nearby table. “Did you tell Wade?”
“And have him kick the perve out before he’s given me my tip? No, thank you.”
Lexie smiled. It was true. Wade was a sucker for a damsel in distress. Speaking of—she caught her boss’s eye behind the bar, one muscular arm holding a cardboard box steady while he restocked shelves of refrigerated beer. The man was a giant—at least six-three by her guess—with a mane of beach blond hair down to his shoulders and an unkempt beard. Ice-blue eyes glanced back at her, and he motioned for her to come over.
“You’ve been on your feet for hours,” he said when she reached him. “Go take a break.”
Lexie tilted her head. “I’ll take one when you do.”
Wade’s beefy shoulders, hugged tightly by the standard-issue black t-shirt he and all the staff sported, shook with his snort. “Not likely. Have you seen this place?”
“I know. Good start to the season, huh?”
“I’ll say.”
“Three margaritas for the girls at table twelve,” Annie called out to the new-to-town bartender, Vikki, who balked through her copper bangs.
“Seriously? Where do they think they are, Cabo?”
Lexie felt for her. She’d only started working at Rusty’s a week ago. Minimal experience and no references, but Wade gave her the job anyway, promising a fair wage and to only have her work Mondays through Thursdays until she was confident enough to tackle busier nights. All things considered, she was handling it well.
As Wade began showing Vikki how the drink was made, Annie came around the bar to whisper in Lexie’s ear, “Okay, so, I know I’m probably just being paranoid, but I have to tell you something before I drive myself crazy.”
“Okay.”
“Honestly, I’m sure it’s nothing. I mean, you know how I am, always overthinking things and freaking out for no reason just like my mom does. Like remember that time she thought I was doing drugs when she found your cigarette in my backpack?”
“Pretty sure it was your cigarette,” Lexie said. “And a joint.”
“Ugh, you’re so not helping.” Annie followed Lexie through the kitchen, past Tobias—their overweight, middle-aged cook with an attitude—and into the walk-in refrigerator. “I have a serious problem, and I need you to tell me what to do.”
“Well, I can’t do that until you tell me what it is,” Lexie said, grabbing an apple pie and walking back toward the restaurant. “So, come on, spit it out.”
After a moment’s hesitation, Annie hissed, “I think Paul is cheating on me!”
“What?” Lexie stopped beside the grill where Tobias was frying one of his famous steaks. “Why would you think that?”
“I don’t know,” Annie whined, slumping on a nearby chair. “He’s just been acting weird lately. He’s distant. Irritable. Sometimes he’s great, you know, super affectionate, just like he was in the beginning, but other times he can just be so . . . cold. I’m just . . .”—she shrugged—“I’m worried.”
“Have you tried talking to him?”
“No,” she admitted. “I guess I’m afraid of what he might say.”
“Babe.” Lexie put her hand on Annie’s arm. “He loves you. Everyone knows it just by the way he looks at you. I’m sure it’s just work stressing him out or something.”
“Yeah. Maybe.”
Before Lexie could say more, Wade called out for some help. “Do me a favor and find a table for the newcomers, would you?” he said once Lexie had stowed the pie in the display case.
Her gaze followed the incline of his head to the two men who’d walked through the door. “Sure.”
She grabbed a couple of menus from the stand and made her way over. As she neared, she recognized the shorter of the two. “In for dinner, Frank?”
“Evening, Lex. Have you got room?”
“I’ll find you something.”
His companion was younger, closer to her own age. He was tall and sturdy, wearing a snug maroon t-shirt atop faded jeans and boots, leaving little doubt of the fit build beneath. No uniform, but the same official badge that Frank wore on his chest dangled from a thin chain around his neck.
“You must be the new lieutenant,” she said. “We heard you were coming.”
He didn’t answer. Honey-brown eyes stared at her from beneath dark brows. His lips twitched like he was caught somewhere between a smile and a sentence, yet no sound escaped. He seemed mesmerized. His hands fisted nervously at his sides.
“I’m Lexie. Can I get you something to . . .” She trailed off, looking back at him—really looking.
No. Was it. . . ?
That face. She knew that face. Had dreamed about it.
She hesitated, then stepped closer. Olive skin grew the beginnings of a dark beard across a strong jawline. Dusky brown hair, short but scruffy, fell above a jagged scar on his forehead. None of it familiar. And yet . . .
Was it really. . . ?
He cleared his throat, offering her an uncertain smile. “Hi. I’m not sure if you remember me. I’m—”
“Nico,” she breathed his name, barely audible over the crowd and music.
His shoulders sagged a fraction. “You remember.”
He had been in her thoughts a lot since the accident. On and off, she had wondered how he was, hoping he’d been able to recover and that he was happy, never expecting to see him again.
“You’re . . .” Lexie scanned him from head to toe. “You’re alive.”
He nodded. “I am.”
“I thought—I mean—I never heard anything.”
“Yeah,” he said, looking apologetic. “Sorry about that. Guess I should have called or . . . something.”
“I don’t—I don’t know what to say.”
He let out a gust of air. “Right there with you.”
His words—the way he said them—sent a stream of questions barreling into her mind. Had he been nervous to see her again? Was this planned? Did he know she was still here or was this another chance crossing of their paths?
“You look . . .” Considering the last time she had seen him he’d been bruised and battered and covered in blood, she wasn’t sure how to articulate the marked improvement.
“Better than the last time you saw me?”
She laughed. “I’d be worried if you didn’t.”
Their eyes held a long moment before Frank cleared his throat. “I take it you two know each other?”
“Ah, yeah,” Nico said. “You could say that.”
“I helped him out of a jam once,” Lexie joked.
“A pretty big jam, if memory serves.” His tone was light, but the intensity of his eyes as he spoke locked Lexie in place. She couldn’t look away. “The truth is, I wouldn’t be standing here if it wasn’t for her.”
Lexie felt heat rise in her cheeks at the compliment—the recognition—neither of which she felt overly comfortable receiving.
“Right,” Frank said. “Well, as much as I can’t wait to hear this juicy story, I’m in need of a beer first.” He slapped Nico’s shoulder and walked toward the cherry-stained bar.
Left alone with Nico, Lexie squirmed under his gaze. Her heart beat a mile a minute and she kept looking at her feet, fiddling with the menus in her hand, anything that gave her something to do besides stand there with nothing—and yet everything—to say.
“You—”
“I—”
They both laughed, awkward and unsure.
“Listen,” he said, stepping closer, visibly wincing as the jukebox volume increased, surrounding conversation becoming a dull roar. “I know this is totally unexpected, and I know you’re at work, probably busy, but is there any chance we can . . . talk?”
“Sure. Okay.” Lexie swallowed, felt her palms go damp and her stomach drop to somewhere in the vicinity of her knees. Why she was so rattled by his presence, she didn’t know. All she knew was that the part of her brain responsible for conscious thought was currently grappling with the part that was telling her this wasn’t real—couldn’t be. “It’s just, we’re pretty slammed tonight so . . .”
For a moment, disappointment flickered across Nico’s face, then he looked around the packed room. “I understand. Maybe some other time.”
“Yeah. It’s a small town, so we’re bound to bump into each other.”
Frank—who had ever-so-casually drifted closer, beer in hand—stepped forward. “So, how’s about that table?”
Lexie tore her attention away from Nico to answer.
“Absolutely.” She handed over the menus she’d forgotten existed. “You can have a seat at table eight over there, and someone will be around to take your order shortly.”
Frank said his thanks and walked away.
Nico lingered a moment. “It’s good to see you again.”
She took in his face once more—the angry scar that had once bled crimson onto her hands, the body no longer ravaged by injury but instead strong and healthy before her.
Returning his smile, she said, “You too.”
And it was. If for no other reason than she finally had an answer to the question that had often occupied her thoughts in quiet moments: had he lived?
“Okay, what the hell are you doing?” Annie demanded a few minutes later.
Lexie knew exactly what she meant but continued loading her arms with plates from the warmer without looking up. “What are you talking about?”
Annie rolled her eyes dramatically. “Sexy cop wants to talk to you, so why aren’t you in the back with him, right now, getting acquainted? Or is it re-acquainted?”
“First of all, your eavesdropping is becoming a real problem,” Lexie threw over her shoulder as she maneuvered her way to a table against the far wall.
“Not for me,” Annie argued, hot on her tail. “And you’re avoiding the question.”
Lexie deposited the steaming meals in front of the waiting customers then turned on her heel—away from Annie’s prying questions and too-observant eyes.
“Oh, no you don’t,” she said, racing to block the path ahead. “Who is he?”
Unable to help herself, Lexie glanced at the table she’d seated the two cops at. She’d put them in Annie’s section on purpose, needing the space and time to gather herself. Nico’s dark gaze had warmed her skin from across the room since he sat down. He wasn’t staring, exactly. No more than she was at him. But he did seem to sense whenever her attention flicked over there—which was often enough to be embarrassing—and look right back at her. Every time.
“Come on,” Annie grizzled. “Tell me, tell me, tell me.”
“Alright, fine.” Lexie took a steadying breath. “You remember me telling you about that guy I found in a car wreck the day of . . . a while back?”
Annie ignored her reluctance to mention what else had happened that day. Instead, her eyes widened, then shot to table eight—where they stayed, ogling Nico with fresh interest. “That was him? Oh, honey, why on earth have you never followed up on that?”
“Gee, let me think,” Lexie said, looking away.
Annie’s attention snapped back to her. She crossed her arms. “It’s still like that, huh?”
“It was last I checked.”
“For chrissake,” she muttered. “How long are you going to let that asshole rule your life like this?”
Lexie felt the first prickles of anger rise. “Don’t.”
“Why not? I’m your best friend, and you’re being stupid. I believe that earns me chastising privileges.”
Lexie sighed, already knowing where the conversation was going. “We’ve been over this, Annie. It’s not worth the drama.”
“The hell it isn’t,” she argued, her tone turning mildly savage, which wasn’t like her.
Lexie stopped collecting napkins and cutlery for restocking and turned to face her.
“What do you want from me? His father has been on the town council for decades. His best friend is the chief of police who loves nothing more than to look the other way. We have no proof of what happened with—” The name lodged in her throat.
“Dalton,” Annie provided.
“And even if we did,” Lexie continued, “things work differently around here. They always have.” She let bitterness coat her words, hating the truth of them. “It is what it is, okay? So, just let it go. Please.”
A few beats of silence passed.
Annie let her arms drop. “Alright, fine. But this is bullshit, and you know it. And when you’re ready to stop being a coward and do something about it, you let me know.”
Lexie watched her friend sashay over to take Nico and Frank’s order, giving her no opportunity to respond. And continued watching out of the corner of her eye as their meals were delivered, devoured, and cleared away. When they rose from their chairs, each throwing a wad of cash onto the table for the check, Lexie’s breath hitched.
He was leaving.
“You okay?” Wade asked.
Lexie jumped from the spot where she’d stopped in her tracks with an armful of dirty plates. “Yep. Fine.”
Feeling her cheeks heat, she continued to the kitchen, deposited the dishes into the sink, breezed back through the swing door and slammed right into a warm, solid chest with an oomph!
Nico’s arms steadied her. “Whoa. Slow down,” he chuckled.
“Sorry,” she said. “I’m . . . a little distracted tonight.”
“It’s okay,” he said, clearly unaware that the cause of her agitation was standing right in front of her in the form of the tall, handsome stranger whose life she had once saved. “I just wanted to say goodbye.”
In her peripheral vision, Lexie could see Annie muscling in on Wade—pointedly staring him down then inclining her head in their direction, saying something Lexie couldn’t make out. She resisted the urge to narrow her eyes.
Focusing back on Nico, she asked, “You’re leaving?”
“Early start tomorrow.”
“Oh.”
He tilted his head. “Unless you changed your mind?”
“Actually, I was just about to take—”
“Lex!” Annie called out. “Wade said it’s time for your break. Like, now.”
Inwardly cringing, Lexie waved her acknowledgment. She rolled her eyes at Annie, who smirked and gave Wade a look that said, What? You weren’t going to do it.
Nico seemed amused. “So?”
“Follow me,” she said, and led him through the back.