18. Melanie #3
“That’s what makes you a good mom.” Jaz leans closer, her expression fierce. “The fact that you care. Oakley is a happy, healthy kid. And yes, shit sucks right now, but it’ll get better.”
I scrub a hand down my face, acting like my eyes aren’t stinging, refusing to give in to my emotions when I’m sitting in the middle of a goddamn bar. “I let him down today, letting him go with Davis when he was asking to stay home.”
“You didn’t let him down,” Rosie argues, glaring at me. “Now, enough quitter talk.”
I throw a startled look her way just as Randi reappears before I can say anything else, setting our beers down. “Here we are, ladies.” She pauses, eyes gleaming. “And Jaz.”
“Rude,” Jaz mutters, even as she happily pulls her glass closer. “When’s the band starting, Randi?”
A cheer goes through the crowd, and the waitress smiles. “Now.”
We look over, watching as four men step up onto the stage, taking their spots at their respective instruments.
“That’s Paulie on guitar. Logan’s on bass.” Jaz says, adding, “He works with Cale. Garth is on drums, and the singer is Landon.”
I watch as the latter steps up to the mic stand, adjusting the height of it.
Landon’s hair is dark and cut close to his head, a trimmed beard covering his jaw.
He’s wearing well-worn jeans and a gray shirt with a logo on the pocket.
He looks as blue-collar as they come, and I just can’t picture him and Marcy together—not with all her athleisure and perfect make-up.
“Sometimes I forget how small this town is.”
“No shit,” Randi pipes in, still standing next to our table, her tray hanging by her side. “And you don’t ever get used to it. It’s downright incestuous.”
Jaz snorts. “And yet, you keep sticking your toes in the pool.”
Randi lifts her brows, saying primly, “A girl’s gotta eat, honey.” Her eyes catch on the door, a coy smile pulling at her mouth. “Speaking of. Excuse me…”
I don’t know what makes me look, but as she struts away, I turn, following her with my eyes as she cuts a path through the bar, heading for the door.
She stops, propping her tray saucily on her hip, her lips pulled up in a coy smile.
I can’t see who she’s talking to until the crowd parts, giving me the barest glimpse of—
I whip back around, a wild mix of rage and jealousy slicing through me.
“Mel, what’s wrong?” Rosie asks, just as she catches sight of what I have, murmuring, “Oh.”
Jaz doesn’t notice where our attention has strayed, her focus on the band as Landon steps up to the mic and calls out a greeting to the bar.
It’s obvious that The Swinging Hammers are a fan-favorite, because the roar is deafening as the band kicks straight into their first song, the music quickly drowning out everything else.
Rosie puts her mouth near my ear. “Do you think he followed you here?”
I chew on my bottom lip. “No. Maybe. I don’t know. Why would he?” I chance another glance over my shoulder just in time to see Cale hugging Randi, the familiarity between them obvious even from where I’m sitting. When I turn back around, my stomach feels like it’s full of rocks.
Rosie shoots me a look that tells me she isn’t buying my act. “You know why, Mel. You’ve been icing him out for weeks, which…Fair. Maybe you should just let him get it all off his chest. He’ll probably leave you alone if he doesn’t see it as a challenge anymore.”
“You think?” I ask, but then I remember the look on Oakley’s face that day, and I scowl.
“Nope. No way. Fuck that. He’s a grown-ass man.
He should know better than running his mouth because…
” I throw my hands up. “I don’t even know why he was running his mouth.
It doesn’t matter. The result of it was that he hurt my kid, so now he can go take a running jump. ”
Jaz looks over with interest, having heard the last of that.
“Who can?” I hesitate, sharing a look with Rosie, and Jaz laughs.
“Oh. You’re talking about my brother.” I grimace apologetically, and she waves me off.
“Don’t worry about it. I know some of what went down, but I promise, I’m not getting involved.
” She grins deviously. “I’ve never cleaned up my brother’s messes, and I’m not starting now. ”
That makes me laugh, and I lean forward, tapping her hand. “Thank you, Jaz. I’m glad we found each other, infuriating brothers aside.”
We settle back into our seats, and I keep my stare resolutely forward, refusing to look back and find him.
Not with the image of him and Randi already seared into my brain.
It doesn’t take long before the back of my neck starts prickling, the feeling of being watched washing over me.
It’s a familiar feeling—one I’d get when he was watching me instead of the movie playing, Oakley sitting in between us.
Or when I was brushing my hair before I got into bed for the night.
I pick up my beer and drain it, ignoring the side-eye that Rosie’s sending me. Cale being here tonight doesn’t change anything, and there’s nothing else to be said.