Page 41 of Second Chance Saloon

Before long, the waitress approached their table. “Good evening. Are you ready to order?”

Mitch bit back a smile, his gaze still steady on Jackie. “I don’t know, are we?”

Jackie pretended to scan through the list of main dishes to regain control of herself before facing him, even though she already knew what she was getting. Discreetly, she glanced at the waitress’s name tag. “Arroz a la tumbada, for me. Thank you, Gemina.”

Mitch leaned back in his chair, his smile now on full display. “You’re still as decisive as I remember.” He looked to the waitress. “Lamb birria for me, please.”

Gemina nodded, scribbling the orders on a small pad. “Great choices. And can I interest you in any wine tonight?”

“We’ll have a bottle of house Tempranillo,” Jackie replied without even pretending to consult the menu.

Mitch chuckled. “What she said, thanks.”

Gemina bowed her head and walked away.

“No Long Island Iced Tea for you?” Mitch’s eyes crinkled with a smile.

Jackie sucked in a breath, swallowing down the memories before answering: “Not tonight.”

“Shame. They always remind me of you.”

She loosened her shoulders, willing her thoughts to slow down. The conversation with her mother played on a loop in her mind, not helped by having Mitch sitting in front of her in the flesh. But her mother was being fanciful, ridiculous even. She didn’t still love him, that’d be absurd. The only reason she hadn’t denied it was because the mere notion of it was preposterous.

“So, how are your parents? Does Fred still enjoy a round of golf?” Mitch asked, all nonchalance and friendliness.

The question absorbed a bit of her tension. This—talking about anything other than them—was something she could do. “You know how he is. He managed to wrangle a game at the Old Course in St Andrews for his seventieth birthday.”

“Good for him. He’s the one who taught me how to play.”

Jackie inhaled sharply. She couldn’t forget anything about Mitch, no matter how much she’d tried to over the years. “Do you still play?” she asked instead, wanting to push focus away from the time when there was a them to the present.

Gemina came back with a bottle of wine and showed the label to Jackie. She gave a single, absentminded nod and watched ruby liquid fill her wineglass.

A moment later, they were alone again.

“Actually, yes, I do. I’ve played regularly with my friend, Hunter, until he ditched me and moved to Scotland.”

Jackie took a sip of her wine, a deep frown creasing her forehead. “Scotland? That’s … well, quite far.”

Mitch coughed out a laugh. “I’m aware. But what can you do. He fell in love, with both a woman and the country. They’re married now.”

Goosebumps erupted all over Jackie’s body. She tried to swallow but her throat was bone-dry. She’d told herself she’d wait to ask, but apparently, she wasn’t going to be able to hold back a minute longer.

Her gaze zeroed in on Mitch. “What happened at your wedding?”

He snorted into his wineglass, overcome by a coughing fit. “Throw a grenade before I even have a glass of wine, why don’t you?”

“Sorry,” she whispered, the word wrapped in sincerity. She didn’t want to hurt him by asking, yet she couldn’t help but wonder.

Mitch set his half-empty glass on the table. He scratched the back of his neck, eyes down. “She cheated on me with her client minutes before the wedding. There was a screen in the chapel where a montage of our childhood photos was meant to play before she walked down the aisle. But instead, when it came on, it was a live feed of … them.” He winced, spluttering the end of the sentence as though acid burned his tongue.

Jackie pressed her open hand to her mouth, stifling a gasp. “That’s dreadful. I can’t even imagine how someone could do something like that.” Her wide eyes blinked as she grasped what happened.

Mitch shrugged, like he could’ve sensed her unspoken question. “Apparently, someone clicked the wrong button, or something. I don’t care, to be honest. Even if I knew exactly what happened with the technology, it wouldn’t change the facts.” He still didn’t raise his gaze.

Jackie bit the inside of her cheek, wishing he’d look at her, wishing he’d see how sorry she was, without her needing to say the words aloud. Because whatever came out of her mouth, it’d fall short of her feelings. She was deeply sad for Mitch, of course. But she was also furious at that nameless woman who’d had the nerve to hurt him like that. How could she have done it, knowing this wonderful man was ready to give her his heart on a silver platter and promise her forever?

How was what you did any better? You broke his heart, too. You hurt him, too.