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Even before I fully face him I know who I’m going to see. Tall, blond, and beautiful, he’s Bo’s exact duplicate in different coloring. I snatch my hand out of Owen’s so fast I yank his with me a little, and I think with that act alone, I give everything away.
A woman comes out from behind him, and when she sees me she screeches so loud my ears ring from it. “Oh my god! Cris! What are you doing here?” she pushes him aside and squeezes into the booth to hug me tight.
“Jane! I can’t believe you’re here! When did you come into town? You didn’t tell me you were coming.”
“It was sort of last minute. Nate here decided to take a few days to come and see… his family,” she says after a brief hesitation, looking towards her handsome husband.
He’s smiling at me, but throwing Owen a few weary glances. “So…”
“Cris, are you going to introduce us?” Owen asks rather stiffly.
“Yeah, yeah, of course. Um, Owen, this is Nate and Jane Chevalier. And this is my husband, Owen.”
He shakes their hands. “I’m sorry, where did you say you met?”
“Hey, Nate, why don’t we let them enjoy their meal.” I feel for Jane as she desperately tries to help me, but even she cannot dissuade her husband from the conversation.
“New Orleans. Back at the beginin’ of November last year.” Nate looks over to me accusingly. “You never said you were married there,chère?”
Owen grumbles something I can’t make out, his jaw working as he sits there putting all of the pieces together.
Jane tries once again to intervene, but it’s in vain. “Of course we knew that. Come on, Nate. Our table is ready.” She pulls at his arm, but he doesn’t budge.
All niceties gone from his features now, he looks like he’s been betrayed himself. “I didn’t know. And I have to wonder, did Bo?”
At the sound of Bo’s name, Owen’s eyes whirl onto me and spear me to the spot. I shake my head wishing I could deny whatever he’s about to say, but there’s no point.
“Bo, as in the Jensen’s son?” he practically spits at me. Dear lord, he hardly ever talks to the Jensens, but this one thing, the name of their son, he remembers?
“Owen, I…”
“Yeah, that’s my cousin,” Nate throws out.
Now, I realize Nate’s looking out for his blood, but at this moment all I want to do is slap him. I want him to just shut the fuck up. Glaring at him, I’m ready to tell him so, but before I can utter a word, Owen is getting out of the booth and storming off.
Clumsily, I follow him, pushing past Nate and Jane, and through the crowd of hungry people waiting on their food. “They’re just sandwiches!” I yell out because it makes me so angry that they’re slowing me down. “Owen!” I call out, but he doesn’t stop.
Far ahead of me I see him jump into my Civic and just as I step outside he drives away, leaving me stranded.
Jane nearly explodes out the door, Nate not far behind her.
“Oh my god, Cris, I am so sorry! This damned knucklehead wouldn’t stop!” she whacks him hard on the arm.
“Am I the only sane person here?” he asks in annoyance, his blue eyes darting from Jane to me. “She’s married, Jane. Married! What the fuck was she doin’ with Bo if she’s a married woman?”
“Hush!” a young lady tells him as she covers up her young daughter’s ears. “Why don’t you take this conversation somewhere else?” He momma bear look seems to scare Old Nate, and he pulls us away from them in a retreat.
“Come on, Cris. We’ll take you home,” Jane says to me, taking me by the arm.
“The hell we will,” Nate growls at her.
“Nate. You will get in that car. I will drive us there if you feel so strongly. Or, you can stay here. It’s your choice.” She turns away from him and pulls me towards a blue Dodge Charger. “We’re staying at Lydia and Dan’s place for a few days.”
I listen to her, still shell-shocked over what just happened. Owen just learned who I’d slept with. What he must be going through. It’s opened up that fucking wound all over again.
We get into the car, and all the while I can see Nate on his phone, texting wildly. It’s not hard to guess who he’s messaging.
“Nate, you ass. Bo knows. He’s known all along.”
