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“I’m sorry.” He reached out, rested a hand over hers, and squeezed. This time, she didn’t pull back. She lifted her head, locked eyes with him, and swallowed hard. “What happened?” he asked.
“Car crash.” She licked her lips. “He had his seat belt on, but it wasn’t enough. The guy driving the other car was drunk and didn’t even see him coming.”
Mark winced. “I’m sorry. Was he your husband?”
“Fiancé.” She let out a short, hard laugh and rubbed her forehead. Her fingers twitched under his, but she didn’t retreat. “We had a week until the wedding. One. Frigging. Week.”
“Shit.”
“Yeah.” She picked up her drink, took a long sip, and set it back down with a clink on the bar. “I had my final dress fitting that same day. I called him, excited because it fit, and it was perfect, and I’d loved him my whole freaking life, and we were getting married. And then…” She swallowed hard, staring straight ahead. “And then he was gone. Just like that. Gone.”
He stared at her, at a loss for words. But he tried his best anyway. “I wish I could say something to make it better, but I know firsthand that nothing does. That pain, that loss, it never goes away. At least, for me it hasn’t.” And he had a daily reminder in Ginny of just how much he’d lost. She looked so much like Tina that it hurt. “It never will.”
She bit her lip. “Did you…?”
“My wife. A little over two years ago.”
“Oh, God.” She flipped her
hand, entwining her fingers with his. “I’m so sorry.”
“Yeah.” He stared at their hands, and for the first time in…well, forever…he didn’t feel quite so alone. He wasn’t sure what he thought about that, since he preferred being alone now. It was safer. Smarter. It just made sense. “Me too, Scarlett.”
They locked eyes, staring at each other, neither one moving.
“Does it still hurt you all the time? Or just sometimes?” she asked slowly.
“Mostly in the morning. When I wake up.” And when Ginny laughed, and the dimples in her cheeks appeared, like Tina’s had. “And at night, when I’m trying to fall asleep. You?”
“It’s just as strong as the day I lost him, but I notice it less frequently now,” she admitted, blinking rapidly. “And I feel bad about that. Like, I shouldn’t be happy. And I shouldn’t want…shouldn’t want…”
“To move on?” he supplied, when she didn’t finish.
“Yes,” she said slowly, staring at his mouth. “To be happy. To be…intimate…with any other man besides him.” She slowly lifted her gaze from his mouth, but the damage was done. He’d seen the desire burning in her eyes, and an answering need surged within him. “To even want to.”
He couldn’t help but feel she was talking about right now, in particular, with him. Because she was holding on to him, and every breath she took shifted her closer, and so help him God, he wanted her to be talking about him.
Because if she was as drawn to him as he was to her…
“I know. Me either. There have been women here and there, but nothing serious. And I’ve gone on a few blind dates, when I’ve forgotten I don’t want anything serious and tried to pretend like I might someday.” Including one disastrous date with his coworker’s now-fiancée, but that was a whole other story. “But nothing ever came of them, because I don’t want another relationship. Not like I had. But tonight…”
She swallowed hard, her fingers twitching. “Yeah?”
“Tonight…” He leaned in and ran his finger down her jaw, locked eyes with her, and put himself out there because why the hell not? If he made a fool out of himself, no one would ever know. “Now, I feel like we were put here together for a reason, as corny as that sounds.”
She shivered at his touch. “And that reason is what? For me to be another girl for you to have and then forget, since you don’t want more than that?”
“I don’t know. Maybe. Maybe not. All I know is that we understand one another. And this is a tough night for you. So, I’m here”—he caught her chin between his thumb and forefinger—“and you can do whatever you need to do to me, with me, and no one will ever give a damn. Whether we drink until we both forget our names, or I just here beside you, shut up, and hold your hand, or…whatever. Anything. I’ll give it to you. I’m yours tonight, Scarlett.”
She swallowed so hard he heard it. “Anything?”
“Yep.” He let go of her chin reluctantly. “Any damn thing.”
For a second, she stared at his mouth, and he was sure she was going to kiss him. And, damn it, he wanted her to go ahead and do it. One unquestionable sign that she wanted more than hand holding, and he’d be hers.
Shivering, she pulled free of him, picked up her cosmo, and downed it in one gulp. “In that case…keep up, Chrissy boy. We’re closing the bar tonight.”
Chapter Three
