Page 22 of Second Chance Saloon

He grinned and her heart sank. “Good. I can’t wait to meet the woman you’ve become.”

CHAPTER NINE

Mitch

Golden orange and red hues dipped into the lustrous surface of the Caribbean Sea. The last rays of sunshine tore through the clouds, casting a warm glow over the water. A wooden path connected the lush green gardens with the private beach, both featuring as highlights in the Mexican Jewel’s brochure.

Faint wisps of conversations filtered down from outside, a louder volume coming from the elegant beachfront restaurant, where crisp white linen and candles covered square tables.

Mitch pushed his hands into his shorts’ pockets and breathed in deeply, peering down at the waiters carrying trays of dishes and pouring wine. If he closed his eyes and loosened the grip on his imagination, he could almost smell the delicious aromas of freshly cooked food. Mexican Jewel was an adults-only luxury hotel—when he was booking it, that had sounded like the best idea in the world. But now, standing on his own on the balcony of the honeymoon suite, watching couples holding hands and gazing into each other’s eyes over delicious food, he felt lonelier than ever.

How was he meant to relax and enjoy himself for the next two weeks? Not only was there this whole business of a ruined wedding, but also running into Jackie. A woman who should’ve disappeared from his heart and mind a long time ago. Just as she wanted after she’d left him ten years ago.

Fuck.

Mitch was lucky that by the time she’d left, he had already satisfied all of the requirements for the veterinary medicine program he’d applied to. Because for the next few months afterwards, he had been less than a shadow of his former self. He’d swapped living for reckless existence, searching for something, anything, to numb his pain.

His left thigh itched—the pain of the old injury a timely reminder of the real cost of his stupidity after Jackie. Even though he dragged himself out of that dark pit of despair, in time, he’d never forgotten her. How could he?

She used to be his everything.

Mitch pushed himself off the balustrade and went back inside. Barefoot, he paced the room, forcing the wheels in his mind to turn faster.

He tried to find out what had happened. The moment he woke up and read her note, he rushed to her apartment, only to find all her things gone and both of her roommates as shocked as he was. Then, he got into the old truck he’d bought a year earlier—one Jackie had helped him pick. She inhabited every corner of his life. There was not a single thing, single activity, memory or habit he’d developed in college that was free of her ghost.

Heart racing, he drove to the Brooke’s Plains ranch, where he pounded on the front door, ignoring the whispers and stares of the ranch hands who’d become friends over the last three summers when he’d worked there too. Jackie’s grandmother, Brenda, had finally opened the door, let him in and got him a large glass of iced tea, before she took his hands in hers and told him that Jackie was gone and wasn’t coming back.

It wasn’t until her words echoed in his mind, like his brain couldn’t properly register them, that Mitch knew it wasn’t a prank.

It had really happened.

He’d never forgotten how hot tears rolled down his cheeks, a few drops falling into his tea, and how he apologized to Brenda for it all.

He kept Jackie’s final note as a reminder of how cruel her abrupt departure from his life had been. How a short paragraph had turned his heart into glass, fissuring over every core memory and all their firsts, before dropping it on the concrete floor and smashing it into a million pieces. There had been no salvaging it.

Mitch stopped pacing and rubbed at his eyes. Had he remembered this was one of her parents’ hotels? There were so many of them. He didn’t really think to check before he booked it. Or maybe Mexican Jewel was a new addition to their portfolio.

How awkward would it have been to run into her if he and Eve had got married and were here together.

His chest squeezed tight as it embraced ten years’ worth of heartache. Raw, all-consuming, indescribable.

All the feelings he’d buried under layers of scars resurfaced the moment he’d laid eyes on her in the lobby. Her hair was shorter, but he knew right away it was her. And even if he still hadn’t been sure, looking into her eyes had felt like coming home. Which was ridiculous, given everything that happened.

Mitch stepped out onto the balcony again. A pleasant breeze kissed his face, forearms and legs. The early evening buzz from the restaurant at the beach turned up in volume, with some music and laughter being thrown into the mix. Everyone was down there, enjoying themselves, while he was stuck in his suite, alone and hauling all the emotional baggage that somehow still seemed to exist, with a gurling empty stomach.

With a sigh, he went back into his room, walking straight up to the phone on the desk by the window. His finger moved down the numbers noted on a laminated list, until he found the one for room service and pressed the keys.

This wasn’t how he’d imagined his first night in Cancún.

Mitch woke up with a start in the middle of the bed, fighting with the cover tangled around his limbs. He blinked in the hopes of orienting himself. The light linen curtains were fully drawn across the floor-to-ceiling windows and balcony door, but no visible sunlight peeked through the gaps between them.

He dragged his hand over his face. Rolling onto his side, he reached for his phone. Immediately after unlocking it, he cursed under his breath. Four messages from Hunter and one from his father. Out of habit, he clicked on Hunter’s name first.

HUNTER: Did you get to the hotel OK?

HUNTER: I assume that’s a yes … and the silence means you’re happily pissed but not crying into your whisky somewhere. Remember, only shit blended stuff when you’re doing that. Don’t dilute the top shelf.

HUNTER: No, but really, I’m starting to worry about you. You got there, right? Even a single letter is fine, you know.