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“I like that,” I say, running my nose through her hair. If Jo is fate’s reward for ten years of witness protection, I’ll gladly accept. “I love you, Jo. So damn much. Couldn’t wait to see you tonight and get my mouth on you, but I also have something we need to discuss.”
“Okay, but…” She adjusts on my lap and beams at me. “Something just happened with work, and I’m busting to tell you. Can I go first?”
Forget beaming. Her energy could power a rocket, and I’m suddenly less distraught.
If Jo is this excited about work, the “something” that has her glowing must be big, and I’m pretty sure I know what’s lighting up my girl. Francisca must’ve told her she’s selling the building, that the new buyer will be ending Jo’s lease and turning the Barrel into a brewpub. Jo doesn’t seem angry or sad. I don’t sense any remorse over losing her aunt’s place.
Clearly, the sale and eviction are exactly what she needed to free herself from duty and start fresh.
I run my hand down her back, so damn relieved. “Tell me all about what happened, and don’t skimp on the details.”
“Well,” she says, her face flushed with excitement, “you know how Larkin wanted to speak with me the other morning? That’s why we were at Sugar and Sips when everything went south with Jake.”
“I do.” But I’m not sure how this relates to Francisca selling the building. Maybe she knows the purchaser. “Go on.”
Jo’s shoulders hitch. “Turns out Larkin wants to be my partner.”
Tingling overtakes the base of my skull. “Partner for a new venture?”
“Of course not.Here, at the Barrel.” She shakes her head, like I’m a numbskull. What I am is on the verge of puking. “She’s going to buy in. And we have plans, Cal. So many amazing plans already! Ways to liven up the place. Fun events to pull in more customers. We still need to finalize it with lawyers and stuff, but for the first time in forever, I’m excited to be here. I think this is exactly what Aunt Becca would have wanted for me and the bar.”
Heat suffuses my face and neck. I try to swallow past the knot of dread in my throat. “But you hate the bar. You’ve been so unhappy here.”
“Sort of, but not fully. I think I was focusing on the negative with you.”
“Because you’re not happy here,” I say again. Shecan’tbe happy here. Not with the news I have to share.
“No.” She shakes her head, her brow pinched as she thinks. “Before you and Larkin came back to town, I didn’t have a lot of close friends. I certainly couldn’t bitch about work to my employees. Then I had you and could finally vent, so I probably made it sound worse than it was. But I do enjoy a lot about the bar—the customers, being a gathering place for the community. I just don’t like the stress of all decisions landing on me. With Larkin, I’ll have someone to share the burden.”
I blink slowly, try to calm the tsunami gathering in my gut. “Partners can add stress. Having Larkin on board might not be as easy as you think.”
Jo leans back and squints at me. “Why don’t you sound happy about this? I thought you’d be thrilled for me.”
I fucking should be. If I hadn’t done what I did, I’d grab a bottle of champagne from the bar and spray the room with it. Congratulate her and Larkin and help them any way I could.
Instead, I’m a minute from hyperventilating. And I have to come clean.
Jo palms my cheek. For some reason, I barely feel it. “Are you okay, Cal? You look pale.”
I try to speak, but my pulse revs and her desk phone rings.
“That’s the bar calling,” she says. “Give me a sec.”
I nod, overheating to the point of pain. She stands and walks toward her phone. I tug on my T-shirt’s crew neck. Try to drag in deeper breaths while I review what I need to say, words to soften the bomb that’s about to blow up Jolene’s plans. I’ve got nothing, and my vision turns spotty.
“Oh, sure,” Jo says into the phone. “That’s actually great timing. Send her back.” She hangs up and turns to me. “So weird—my landlady’s actually here, which is good, I guess. We need to hammer out a proper lease, and I can tell her about Larkin and me revamping the bar.” She smiles at me, but concern drags her lips down. “You look flushed, Cal. Will you wait for me at the bar? Have a beer and rest a sec. We can chat about whatever you have going on after.”
I’m about to ask her to put Francisca on hold. I don’t want Jo to be blindsided, but there’s a knock on the door, and the heat gripping my body worsens. My lungs constrict, squeezing so tight the spots in my vision worsen.
Francisca comes in. Jo says something, but it doesn’t register. I swear, my lungs are nearing collapse, and this heat is melting my spine. I somehow make it through the door, mumble a vague hello to Francisca, then I’m rushing, hitting a near jog toward the exit. I bust outside and suck back air, but it’s like breathing through a clogged straw.
Selling the bar wasn’t a small screw-up that will be forgiven. Jolene’s about to have her hopes and dreams shattered. Fated to be together or not, she’ll never look at me the same again.
“Fuck.” I need to think. Figure this out. Find a way to give Jo everything she wants, but the only concrete thoughts ricocheting through my head arefuck, fuck, fuck.
On the verge of hysteria, I grab my phone and pull up a group text with my brothers.
I enter five words and hit Send.
