Chapter 3 #3
But my mind is completely blank. Every single man I know in this entire town, Brandon knows too.
He’ll see right through any lie I try to tell.
It’s not like Dark River is some massive city.
Why did I say yes? I should have just told him to mind his own damn business, but no, I had to try to one-up him and now I’m drowning—
“Me, actually.”
Wait, what?
I spin around so fast I nearly knock over a glass. Jack is walking toward us from the pool table, moving with purpose.
“She’s dating me,” he says.
Before I can even begin to process what’s happening, Jack walks confidently behind the bar like he owns the entire place, slipping smoothly around to stand directly beside me.
His arm drapes casually over my shoulders, but there’s nothing casual about the possessiveness in the gesture.
The warmth of his body next to mine sends an electric jolt through my entire system, and I have to actively remind myself how to breathe like a normal human.
“You bothering my girlfriend?” Jack’s voice is casual, but there’s steel underneath. “Because I’d really hate to have to break your fucking nose again, Brandon.”
I’ve never seen Brandon turn that particular shade of white before. It’s impressive how quickly every drop of blood drains from his face.
The high school fight. Oh my god.
Jack was just a freshman when he stood up to Brandon, who was a junior football star at the time.
Brandon was being a complete asshole about something or other—nothing unusual there—and Jack had made quick work of it, taken Brandon down almost instantly despite the age difference.
They both got suspended, but Brandon’s ego never recovered from being humiliated by a freshman in front of half the school.
“Jack Midnight,” Brandon finally manages, his voice cracking slightly on the name.
“Brandon.” Jack’s arm tightens just slightly around my shoulders, the pressure both reassuring and thrilling in a way I don’t want to examine.
His heart is maintaining a steady rhythm against my side while mine is doing the cha-cha at triple speed.
“Didn’t expect to see you back in Dark River. Thought you’d moved on.”
Brandon’s eyes dart frantically between us, trying desperately to process this information, to make it make sense. “You two are… together?”
My brain is screaming at me. Say something. Anything. Nod. Blink. Do literally anything except stand here frozen like a deer in headlights. But my mouth won’t work. My vocal cords have abandoned me. I’m just standing here, probably looking like I’m having a stroke.
“Yeah.” Jack says it so simply, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. Like of course we’re together. “Problem with that?”
Right. Right. This is happening. We’re doing this.
I lean back into Jack slightly, letting my body language sell it, and put my hand over his where it rests on my shoulder.
His hand is warm and solid, and fourteen-year-old Lark would be absolutely hyperventilating right now.
Though twenty-seven-year-old me honestly isn’t faring much better.
“We’ve been keeping it quiet,” I add, trying desperately to sound natural even though my heart is racing so fast I might pass out. “But yeah. We’re together.”
Kelly’s looking between all of us with her mouth hanging open, probably frantically recalculating everything she thought she knew about my life.
Dating a Formula One driver definitely trumps dating a construction contractor in her shallow world.
Actually, it trumps dating pretty much anyone in anyone’s world.
“We should go,” Brandon says abruptly, standing so fast his stool scrapes harshly against the floor. The sound cuts through the bar like a record scratch. “This place hasn’t gotten any better since I left.”
“Probably a good idea,” Jack agrees, his voice still carrying that dangerous casual tone.
“Oh, and Brandon? Next time you feel like harassing my girlfriend about her career choices or her life?” His voice drops even lower, and I can hear the threat clear as day.
“You’re going to have a serious problem with me.
And trust me, that’s really not a problem you want to have. ”
Brandon’s face does this absolutely fascinating journey from shock to anger to something that looks almost like fear. I’ve never seen him back down from anything or anyone before. And watching it happen is absolutely glorious.
Brandon doesn’t respond. He just throws cash on the bar with unnecessary force and storms toward the door like a child having a tantrum. Kelly scrambles to follow, pausing just long enough to shoot me a look that could probably peel paint off walls.
The door swings shut behind them with a decisive thud.
And scene. Someone please cue the credits because this cannot be real life.
My brain is cycling through approximately fifteen different emotions simultaneously, none of which I have time to properly process right now. Shit. I’m still leaning against Jack, my hand still on his, frozen in this position like my body has completely forgotten how to move independently.
“Oh, sorry.” I step back quickly, nearly tripping over my own feet in the process. “Thanks for the save. Really. That was… I wanted to show him up so badly that I kind of painted myself into a corner there.”
He waves it off easily, looking entirely too pleased with himself. Like a cat who just knocked a very expensive vase off a shelf on purpose and is proud of it. “Don’t mention it. Embarrassing Brandon is basically a hobby of mine. I couldn’t pass up the opportunity.”
“How chivalrous of you.” I nod, completely unsure where to direct my nervous energy. My hands are practically vibrating. Damn, I can’t wait to tell Maren absolutely everything about this. As the town’s number one Brandon hater, she’s going to absolutely love this story.
“That guy’s been asking for it since high school.
” His smile turns slightly predatory, reminding me that beneath all the charm and the easy confidence, Jack Midnight has a definite edge to him.
An edge that probably serves him well on the racetrack, but makes something flutter low in my stomach when it’s directed at me.
“God, yes,” I agree. “He really is the absolute worst human.” I glance around the bar and spot Mrs. Henderson at her usual corner table, watching us with completely undisguised interest. She’s not even pretending to read her book anymore.
Just openly staring at Jack and me, probably already mentally composing the text message she’ll send to her entire contact list. I stifle a groan.
“Shit. Mrs. Henderson saw absolutely everything. This is going to be all over town by tomorrow morning. Possibly by tonight.”
“Is that really so bad?” Jack leans casually against the bar, completely unconcerned. Easy for him to say. He doesn’t even live here anymore. He’ll return to Europe within a month or two.
“Everyone’s going to think we’re actually together,” I say, trying to convey the absolute severity of this situation. My reputation in this town has finally recovered from all the divorce drama. And now this.
“And?” He raises his eyebrows, seemingly not understanding the problem.
And you’re Jack Midnight, I want to say.
Local celebrity turned international race car driver who dates models and actresses and probably actual princesses.
Every woman in Dark River is going to want to murder me for apparently snagging the town’s most eligible bachelor.
Jack Midnight is basically a walking fantasy—dangerous, successful, looks like he stepped directly out of a magazine spread.
“And I’ll never hear the end of it,” I say instead, wiping my hands on my jeans like I can physically wipe away the anxiety.
“When we’re obviously not together next week, everyone will want to know exactly what happened.
Did he dump me? Was I just another notch on the Jack Midnight bedpost?
Did I do something wrong?” The thought of being town gossip again makes me want to relocate to another continent. Maybe Antarctica.
“Wow.” He’s fighting back a smile now, the corners of his mouth twitching. “Tell me how you really feel. Don’t hold back.”
“I mean, no offense intended.” I gesture vaguely at him, at all of him, at the whole overwhelming Jack Midnight experience. The face and the charm and the body and everything else that makes women do incredibly stupid things. Words are failing me, which is deeply inconvenient.
“None taken.” He’s definitely enjoying this now. His eyes are practically sparkling with amusement, and I have a sudden overwhelming urge to throw a bar rag at him.
“You know what you are,” I say, refusing to stroke his ego further. Like his ego needs any additional stroking. It’s probably already the size of Jupiter. “But your reputation kind of precedes you. The whole player thing. Different woman every week.”
“I prefer ‘romantically adventurous.’” He says it with such a straight face I almost laugh out loud.
“Sure, let’s go with that.” I can’t help but smile at the absolutely ridiculous phrase. “‘Romantically adventurous’ sounds like a euphemism someone would use on a dating profile to warn potential matches that they have serious commitment issues.”
“It’s more elegant than just saying ‘afraid of feelings,’” he says with this self-deprecating smile that feels more genuine than his usual confident smirk.
Fair enough. I reach for a clean glass and pull a fresh beer from the tap. “Here.” I set it on the bar directly in front of him. “This one’s on me. Payment for the Brandon intervention.”
“Payment for my excellent boyfriend performance?” He takes a sip, watching me. There’s something in his gaze that makes me feel like I’m the only person in the room, which is an extremely dangerous feeling to have around someone like Jack Midnight.
“Something like that.” I busy myself clearing away the glasses Brandon and Kelly left behind, needing something to do with my hands.
Mike calls out from the pool table, something about Jack owing him a rematch. His voice carries across the bar.
“You should probably get back before Mike has a complete meltdown,” I say, nodding toward where Mike is leaning dramatically on his pool cue like it’s the only thing keeping him upright. “I think he secretly loves losing money to you. Glutton for punishment, that one.”
“He does look ready to flip the entire table,” Jack agrees, picking up his beer. “Better go let him lose another round.”
“And hey, thanks again,” I say. “Really. That was… you didn’t have to do that.”
He raises his glass to me in a small salute and heads back to the game, and I turn back to wiping down the bar, trying desperately to process what just happened.
Jack Midnight just told my ex-husband we were dating.
In front of witnesses. Multiple witnesses.
This is going to be absolutely everywhere by morning.
It’s probably already spreading through town like wildfire.
Dark River’s rumor mill operates at approximately twice the speed of light.