Chapter 27
“Okay, I know you’re still supposed to take it easy on your shoulder, so why don’t you stick to beer and shots for now? Once you’re operating at one-hundred percent, we can work on some of those girly cocktails chicks love.”
I whack my brother with the dishtowel that was slung over my shoulder. “Sexist much?”
Clayton holds his hands up. “What? It’s true! I seem to remember you havin’ a fondness for Cosmos back in the day. You’re a chick, and drinks don’t get much girlier than that.”
I roll my eyes. “That’s because I was a teenager who didn’t know any better. I also thought Boone’s Strawberry Hill was fine wine.”
He belts out a laugh and swings his arm around my neck, pulling me into his side. “I’m sure your tastes are much more refined after living in a big city, huh?”
I shrug out of his hold, suddenly not finding the moment so amusing. “I guess.”
The truth is, I rarely drink. When you’ve been on the receiving end of alcohol-induced rages like I have, you tend to lose your taste for it. I know the irony behind taking this job, but it’s not the same here. Here, things feel normal. Like, maybe this is where I’d be going on a Friday night if I hadn’t moved away. Even if my brother wasn’t standing right next to me, I’d still feel safe. In a town of less than five hundred, nearly everyone who walks through those doors knows everyone else. And Clayton has assured me he’s not afraid to cut someone off before things get out of hand.
Throughout the night, I see many familiar faces. I have a lot of conversations that end in some variation of: “Let’s get together and catch up sometime.” Clayton’s stuck close by for the most part, but he seems to have figured out how important it is that I don’t use him as a crutch. Tending bar is definitely not something I’d ever enjoy doing long-term, but it’s a step in the right direction. I can’t stay holed up in that house anymore, wondering if and when Sebastian is ever going to make his move. I texted my new number to Agent Simmons earlier, and he promised to have his wife call me first thing Monday morning. I suppose once I file for divorce, Sebastian will have no choice but to acknowledge me.
Dive Baralso sells pub food, so we had a rush around suppertime, but we’re having a bit of a lull right now. Since it’s Friday night, Clayton says business will really start picking up around nine. I’m due to clock out at the same time because he didn’t want to overwhelm me on my first day, but I might hang out for a while after my shift. It’s refreshing having this little slice of normal, being around people who don’t have a pretentious bone in their body. The front door opens, and I silently amend my previous statement. I guess I spoke too soon.
Nicky—I refuse to call her Nicole after the way she treated me earlier—saunters in, wearing a skin-tight red dress that pushes her boobs up and a cute pair of brown cowgirl booties.
My brother whistles from the other end of the bar, closest to the door. “Damn, Nicky.”
My lips twitch as she pins him with a glare. “Kiss my sweet ass, Clayton.”
Clayton rests his elbows on the bar top and leans forward. “Well, I’ve already been there, done that, honey, but if you’re lookin’ for a repeat, I will gladly oblige. You just say the word.”
I duck my head, shaking with silent laughter. This boy hasn’t changed one bit, has he? Clay would never move in on another man’s girl, especially not one of his friends, but that doesn’t stop him from flirting with everyone bearing a pair of tits. Nineteen or ninety, it doesn’t matter. He can’t seem to help himself. The only exceptions to that rule are the women he’s related to.
She huffs. “You wish. Have you seen Beckett? He’s supposed to be meetin’ me here.”
Lovely. I knew this was bound to happen eventually, but I hoped I wouldn’t have to deal with it on my first night. Especially after Beck and I had that weird... whatever it was earlier.
Nicky’s eyes wander around the room before turning back our way. She must not have noticed me before because as contemptuous as I thought her expression was then, it’s nothing compared to now.
“Presley.” She looks me up and down, taking in my outfit with a sneer. I’m not sure what her problem is. My wardrobe choices are limited to the things I wore when I was eighteen, but thankfully, I had a pretty timeless fashion sense back then. My shirts are a little tighter than they used to be because my breasts are two cup sizes fuller, but it’s not revealing in any way. “What are you doin’ behind the bar?”
Before I can answer, Clayton swings his arm over my shoulders and says, “Didn’t you hear? Presley’s sticking around. She’s gonna be helping me out for the foreseeable future. Isn’t that great?”
Nicky’s face transforms into what could only be described as severely constipated. “Yeah. Just great.” Her tone says that it’s anything but great. “I’m grabbin’ a table in the back. When my boyfriend gets here, will ya send him on back, hun?”
I give her a saccharine smile. “Sure thing, hun.”
I shove Clayton’s arm off when she walks away. “You just had to antagonize her, didn’t you?”
“She makes it too easy.” He laughs. “What’s the deal with you two? I get the sense this isn’t the first time you’ve run into each other since you’ve been back.”
“It’s not.”
His eyebrows lift. “You gonna explain that?”
I fold my arms over my chest. “Nope.”
He shakes his head. “You’re no fun.”
“Not everything’s fun and games, you idiot. You can’t go ar?—”
My words are cut off when the door opens again, and the breath whooshes from my lungs. Beck makes a beeline for the bar the second he sees me.
“Presley. Can we talk?”
“No. I’m working.”
Beck frowns. “You’re workin’ here now? Since when?”
“Since today.” I wipe down the spotless bar to keep myself occupied. “Now, if you’ll ex?—”
“Go ahead and take a break, Pres. I don’t mind.”
My eyes snap to my meddling brother. “No, thank you. I’m good.”
Clay looks between Beck and me, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Really, I don’t mind. You’ve done a great job tonight. In fact, if you wanna cut out early so you two can go somewhere and talk, feel free.”
I glare when he uses air quotes around the word talk. “I said, no, thank you.” My jaw is clenched so tightly, I’m surprised I can get the words out.
Beck clears his throat. “Pres?—”
“Hey, baby, there you are!” Nicky curls her arm around Beck’s bicep, pressing her breasts into him. “I’ve got us a table in the back. C’mon.” Beck hesitates, which does not please his girlfriend one bit. “Beckett, did you hear what I said?”
He glances at her briefly before returning his eyes to me. “We’ll finish this conversation later.”
I shake my head. “I have nothing to say.”
Beckett smirks. “Well, too bad, because I do.”
I hold my chin high, hoping he can’t read me like he used to. If he can, he’d know I’m lying through my teeth. I have so many words to say to this man, if you put them on paper, the first volume alone would make War and Peace look like CliffsNotes. I’m afraid if I started, the word vomit wouldn’t stop until all my deepest, darkest secrets were exposed. I can’t bear the thought of him knowing what I went through when it never would’ve happened if I had listened to him, my mama, or anyone else who told me I shouldn’t go to New York.
Nicky tugs on Beck’s arm, trying to drag him to the table she had claimed. He finally gives in and goes with her, but not before looking back at me one more time.
Clayton chuckles under his breath. I’m a little annoyed he finds this whole thing so funny. “I need to grab a new keg. You okay up here by yourself for a few?”
I wave him off. “Go do what you need to do.”
“Well, I’ll be damned. I heard you were back in town. You look great, Presley.”
I glance up at the man who just sat down at the bar. It takes me a second to recognize him because the police uniform threw me off, but his pale green eyes are a dead giveaway.
“Well, look at that: Colby Mitchell in the flesh. What can I get you?”
He raises a single brow. “You workin’ here now?”
I shrug. “I’m just helping Clayton out for a bit. Now, how ‘bout that drink?”
“I’m on duty, so a Coke is fine.”
I scoop some ice in a glass and fill it with soda, as they call it up north. I place a cocktail napkin down in front of him and set the glass on top.
“So...sheriff, huh? When did that happen?”
He takes a sip before answering. “About a year ago, when my dad retired. I’ve been with the force for almost ten years now, though.”
“You like it?”
“Most days. Not much happens in this town, and ladies love a man in uniform.” He punctuates his statement with a wink.
Geez, I almost forgot Colby is as incorrigible as my brother when it comes to flirting.
“What happens on the days you don’t like?”
His mouth kicks up in the corner. “Usually, some punk-ass kids are bored and causin’ trouble.”
“Oh, you mean like you used to do?”
“Exactly.” He laughs. “Little bastards.”
“Colby, what did I tell you about hanging around here scaring off my customers?” Clayton grunts as he sets the keg down. “How are folks supposed to engage in some good old-fashioned debauchery when the town sheriff is watching their every move?”
“It’s never stopped you,” Colby challenges.
Clay points to him. “That’s because I have dirt on you.”
My head swings to the sheriff. “What kind of dirt?”
“The kind a gentleman like me never talks about.” He winks again.
“Oh, lord.” I shake my head.
“Gentleman, my ass,” Clay teases. “Just last week, you?—”
“Are you kidding me?!” All three of our heads swing toward the back of the seating area where the shrill voice came from. “You’re unbelievable, you know that?”
“Oh, shit,” Colby and my brother say at the same time.
I, however, don’t say a word because I’m too busy watching the drama unfold.
“Nic, calm down.” Beck reaches for her as she stands, but she shakes him off.
“Calm down? Calm down?! This is because of her, isn’t it?” Nicky points directly at me. “Isn’t it?!”
Beckett pinches the bridge of his nose and says something to her that I can’t hear.
“Oh, screw you, Beckett Armstrong! You’re going to regret this, I can promise you that.”
Nicky storms through the bar, leaving a giant spectacle in her wake. Beck is still sitting in the booth, looking like he’s fighting off a migraine. He probably is after being screamed at like that. After a moment, he slides out of the seat and goes after her.
Nicky flashes all three of us a nasty glare as she passes us on the way out.
Right before she reaches the door, my brother calls out, “Bye, Nicky. You have a wonderful evening, sweetheart.”
She flips him a double bird as she’s stepping outside.
Beck throws a dirty look over his shoulder as he’s walking out. “Not helpin’, Clayton.”
Clayton finds this especially amusing if his laughter is any indication.
Colby whistles softly. “Shit, he finally did it.”
“Looks like it,” Clay agrees. “About damn time.”
“Finally did what?”
“Cut Nicky loose,” Colby explains. “He’s tried multiple times, but she always managed to sink her claws in and convince him to give her another shot. I don’t know what the hell he was thinkin’, doing it in public, though. He had to have known she’d make a scene.”
“She wouldn’t be Nicky if she didn’t,” Clay adds.
Beck tried breaking up with her before? What about all the supposed marriage talk? And why do I care?
“I need to hit the ladies’ room. Be back in a bit.”
I take off like my butt is on fire, heading down the long hallway to the bathrooms. I duck inside the ladies’ and take a few deep breaths once I’m safely behind the closed door. My eyes widen when I see my reflection in the mirror above the sinks. My face is flushed, and my eyes are wild. My chest is heaving like those women in the historical romances I used to enjoy reading before Sebastian sucked all the joy out of them.
I turn on the tap and run my wrists under cold water, trying to calm my racing pulse. Why am I having such a strong physical reaction to what just went down with Beck and his girlfriend? Ex-girlfriend, I mean. Was she right? Did Beck just break up with her because I’m back in town? Based on my first encounter with him, I’d dismiss the possibility entirely. But after what happened earlier, I don’t know. I think it just might be entirely... possible. But why? I’m not single. Not technically. And it’s not like either one of us can just forget the last twelve years happened and go back to the way things were. There are so many obstacles in the way, it’s almost comical.
The question is, why am I actually considering facing them one by one until nothing is standing in our way?