“Tell me somethingyouknow.” I skim my fingertips along the soft skin on the inside of her wrist. Just the touch, the feel, of her grounds me.
“I miss this town. This bar.” She nods at a group of busybodies in a corner, their focus fixed solely on us. “Those stupid idiots too.” Smiling, she props her chin in her palm and looks at me. “I forgot how to do this. Go out. Have fun.”
A long exhale escapes me. “Me too.”
Her eyes search mine, silently asking where I’m going with this.
So I chance it. “But it’s better with you,” I say. “It’s always been better with you.”
Her eyes widen and an audible exhale escapes her. “Hank…”
With each word, I inch closer to the truth. Will she let me in? Will she tell me why she left? Give me just one damn hint as to whether I can give her what she wants. Maybe I never did. Maybe that’s why she left.
Only one thing’s for certain. I’m scared out of my fucking mind that I’ll lose her at the end of this.
The bells above the front door chime as it swings open, and on instinct, the two of us turn toward the sound.
Clint and Laura wander in hand in hand and claim a corner booth.
“Must be date night,” Bellamy murmurs.
“Must be.” I drain the rest of my beer. Set it down harder than I intend.
Their appearance is like a big bucket of water. A reminder that Bellamy’s not mine. That we’re still divorced and in less than three days she’ll be on her way back to San Francisco.
Unless I do something about it.
“Listen, Bell—”
I’m cut off as the microphone on stage crackles with an announcement that trivia will begin shortly.
Bellamy breaks into a full grin. “Tuesday trivia. Things sure don’t change in Silverwood.” Her tone’s wistful, if not a little sad.
Across the room, Clint zeroes in on me, one brow raised. With a bullshit gleam in his eye, he lifts his trivia sheet. Laura, face alight, waves a hand, gesturing wildly at their table.
I huff a laugh, scraping a hand over my jaw.
“We’re being beckoned,” Bellamy murmurs, an eager smile topping her words.
“What do you think?” I nod at Clint and Laura, who have now scrawledSOSon the back of their trivia sheet and are waving it in our direction. Unexpected nerves thrum through my veins. “Think you still got it in you? Old times’ sake?”
Bellamy squares her shoulders, hiccups, then slugs down another sip of beer. “Always.”
“Holy shit, Hank.” Bellamy shivers, stamping her fur-trimmed boots on the front porch. Her eyes are wide in the dark. “Find that damn key.”
“Fuck, I’m tryin’.”
I pat my back pockets, well aware of Bell shivering next to me. Well aware of Zelda pressed against the window, howling her distress because we’re not within petting distance.
“It’s so cold,” Bellamy moans. Her voice is raspy from screaming out trivia answers like a woman with a personal vendetta against losing. I forgot how competitive my girl couldbe. Damn if tonight wasn’t one of the best nights I’ve had in a long time.
“Shit. Think I lost ’em.” I cast a desperate look at the window, wondering how quickly I can bust it in.
“If we’re stranded out here, you owe me partial custody of your coat.”
“Get in here, Bluebell.” I grin at her.
She’s a little tipsy. A lot beautiful.
