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“I know, Mother, I’m sorry. I didn’t expect Claire to be so…so…”
“Choose your words wisely,
Joe,” I warn, unafraid to shove my boot up his ass.
He gives me a worried look. “Uneasy,” he finishes, smiling at his mother. “Go home, and we’ll talk about this later.”
“You should go too,” I say, crossing my arms over my chest.
Eyes wide, Joe looks at me. “Come on, Claire. The night was going so well, and obviously I made a mistake, but this doesn’t have to change anything.”
“Obviously,” I mutter. “And it changes everything. You need to go. Goodnight, Joseph.”
I hear a gasp, probably from Lorraine, when I turn around and walk back to the booth to retrieve my purse. Tossing a few twenties on the table, I head back for the bar, bypassing the mother-son duo who are still standing there whispering.
Sarah must’ve caught part of that little conversation because she waves me down to the opposite side of the bar where Rhett, Trevor, and Lincoln are sitting in all of their sexy cowboy glory.
“Date over already?” Trevor asks.
Instead of answering, I park my ass on the stool between him and Rhett and look at Sarah.
“Another beer? Maybe an appletini?” she asks.
“Just a water, please.” The last thing I need right now is alcohol. I’m going to sit here with the guys, bitch about Joseph for a few minutes, and then I’m going to go home, open a tub of Ben and Jerry’s, and take a nice, hot bath where I can ponder what in the world is wrong with me.
Except I already know the answer to that.
“Uh-oh.” Rhett presses his hand to my forehead, and I slap it away. “Are you feeling okay? You never turn down an appletini.”
“No, I’m not okay.”
“Is this about your date and the woman he’s walking out with? Because for the record, you’re way hotter than she is,” he says.
“She’s his mother,” I growl. “Who brings their mother on a first date? How is that even acceptable?”
Sarah slides my water across the bar, and I take a drink.
“Kinda hot for an older chick,” Lincoln says, quickly holding his hands up when I glare at him.
“Yeah, that’s odd.” Rhett leans back in his seat and runs a hand through his hair. “But why did they leave so quick?”
“Probably because she thinks I’m an alcoholic and unfit to date her son,” I say, taking another sip of my water. “And I told them to leave.”
“Want me to kick his ass?” Trevor asks.
“No.” I pout, slouching against the bar. “But I appreciate the offer.”
Rhett rubs a hand over my back, and I lean into him, grateful to have such a wonderful friend and even more grateful that he and Mo were able to find happiness in each other. I’m also secretly jealous and worried I’ll never find that for myself.
“What do you need, Claire? Want me to call Mo?”
“No. I’m just going to go home.”
“You sure?” he asks. “We can go shoot some pool, maybe throw some darts?” I shake my head, and he continues. “Wanna relive our teens? I’m not opposed to cow-tippin’.”
Laughing, I look over at him. “Those were fun times.”
“The best.”
