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“All right, then. I hope he won’t feel abandoned.”
“I don’t think that will be a problem.” I nodded as I pulled the door open and shot a look at Kate, who was sitting behind the desk with her hand over her mouth to keep from laughing.
I shook my head and heard Kressa going on and on about what a shock it was that Chester was a raccoon. Then I finished up my paperwork and left for the day.
* * *
When I got to Reynolds’ Bar and Grill, I was already exhausted. I’d just made my daughter dinner and dropped her off at my parents’ house for a few hours so they could watch some new movie that had just come out and bake cookies. I was meeting Finn, Hugh, Lincoln, and Maddox at Reynolds’ for a guys’ night. We tried to get together at least once a month, without the girls, so we could shoot the shit without a million questions derailing the conversation. Sometimes we played poker, and other times we came to Reynolds’ for the best ribs in town.
I’d completely wasted my time stopping by the Langleys’ on my way home from work because when Martha opened the door, she started coughing profusely, and Joe had to go get her inhaler.
I’m sure the Langleys were milking it, but Maxine and I hightailed it out of there. I dropped her off at the house, leaving her outside in the backyard until I got home.
She was the houseguest that just wouldn’t leave.
I tugged my coat closed as a gust of wind whipped around me as I made my way to the door. We were expecting a big storm in the next few days. Once I stepped inside, Hugh walked toward me quickly, and I could tell by the look on his face that something was wrong.
“Wes Wellington is at the bar. He claims he’s here to meet Presley.”
“Well, he’s got some fucking nerve coming here, of all places.” I stormed past my brother, and he gripped my shoulder, but I shook him off because I was on a fucking mission.
“Who the fuck do you think you are, coming here?” I shouted as I yanked him out of his seat.
His glass dropped from his hand, clanking against the bar as liquid splattered all around. I shoved him back, and he stumbled to get his footing.
My fist was raised, and there was nothing I wanted more than to knock this fucker out.
I hated him for marryingmy girlall those years ago, and I hated him even more today for hurting her the way he had.
“Brother, you need to relax.” Hugh clutched my shoulder hard, and I turned to see Finn, Lincoln, and Maddox all standing there now, watching me with concern.
“You must be Cage Reynolds,” Wes said, holding his hands up before reaching for a napkin to wipe the red wine off his suit jacket.
“And you must be fucking insane to come here, to this restaurant, after what you’ve put her through.”
“How about you sit down and let me get us each a drink before Presley shows up to meet me and we cause her more stress than necessary.”
“She knows you’re here?”
“She chose the restaurant.”
Kline, the bartender, gathered the broken glass off the bar top, and I motioned for the guys to head back to the table. Hugh lingered before tapping me on the shoulder once. I took a seat beside the asshole that I desperately wanted to knock out.
Kline got Wes a new glass of wine and handed me a beer. Wes held his glass up like we were buddies, and I just stared at him before pulling the bottle to my lips.
We weren’t friends.
I was still trying to figure out if punching him would be worth it.
He chuckled. “You’re everything I expected. She clearly knows you well.”
I narrowed my gaze. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, but you better be here to sign those fucking papers for her. You’ve done enough damage. Let her go.”
He took a sip from his glass and forced a smile. “A part of me feels like I should be punching you in the face. You’re probably the reason my marriage failed. But I don’t believe in violence, so I’ll restrain from getting physical.”
The dude was a decade older than me, a few inches shorter, and I had a good fifty pounds on the asshole. He’d have more luck fighting Maxine than me. But there was humor in his eyes as he said it, so I sat back and set my beer down on the bar.
“I’m not sure what you’re insinuating. Presley isn’t a cheater, if that’s where this is going. I haven’t seen her in years, but I know who she is, and that’s not her. So, I don’t think you can use that defense to get away with what you did, if that’s your angle.”
