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“You don’t—”
“It was my fault.”
The man swiped his card without another word before handing it back to him.
Sixteen
Cassie
J
ake stumbled back to the table, his face ghost white and his hands empty apart from his credit card. He slid onto the chair next to hers and opened his mouth as if to say something before closing it again and scrubbing his hands over his face.
“Jake?” she asked, worry sitting like an anvil in her belly.
He turned to her, his eyes wide and glassy. Reaching out, he fingered one of her curls, his hand trembling. Cassie grasped it between hers, steadying him. He was her rock. Always steady, always ready with an encouraging word. To see him speechless and rocked to his core—especially after their conversation—was something she hadn’t seen for years. Not since Jake had jettisoned his father from his life.
“I…” He shook his head and laughed, a shocked sound jumping from his throat. “Phoenix…”
Cassidy furrowed her brow. Confusion reigned. What was Jake talking about? She knew he was trying to put her needs first, despite not wanting to be with anyone else. The tour had solidified her decision too. It had shown her what she thought she wanted a few years earlier. But the more she saw, the more she realized that the club wasn’t for her—well, except the cosy rooms on the top level. She loved that other people could find what they wanted there, but it wasn’t for Cassie. And the idea of sharing Jake? No, just no. There was only one other person she was interested in doing that with.
“He’s our new bartender. Did something happen?” Adelaide asked.
The words slammed into her. Like the crack of a gun at point-blank range.
It had to be a coincidence.
Someone with the same name.
Cassidy swivelled her gaze to the other woman and opened her mouth before turning back to Jake. Her movements were slow, like she’d fallen out of sync with the rest of the world.
“It’s him.” Wonder lit up Jake’s eyes, disbelief lacing his words and a smile that he couldn’t contain curling his lips.
Wide-eyed, Cassie dropped Jake’s hand and dashed to the bar. The heels she wore clicked on the dark timber floors. Eyes turned in her direction, but she didn’t care. Phoenix was there. He was really there.
But then she stopped. Her feet skidded to a halt.
He hadn’t called. He hadn’t reached out. He’d rejected them. He didn’t want them. Why would he want them now? She stood there, warring with herself. Did she go to him now? Or did she walk away like he’d done to them?
Popping up from behind the bar, carrying a dustpan and brush, she saw his hair first. Jet-black, messy locks that looked like he’d run his hands through them. His skin was paler than she remembered, the bronze not as pronounced. But they’d all changed—she was almost a different person to the high-strung corporate shark she’d once been.
With her heart pounding in her ears, she watched as he emptied the glass fragments in the bin and reached for a mop. His movements were methodical, precise but also fluid. He washed his hands after he’d finished and reached for the black towel he had slung over the bar. He moved like he was familiar with the place, but he was only new. Why was he there in the first place? He’d been studying at university.
He looked up. Their gazes clashed.
He leaned against the bar like he was unsteady on his feet and sucked in a breath. Tears pooled in her eyes, and Cassie brought a hand up to her mouth.
Then he moved.
Strode to the end of the bar and lifted the keep before he ran to her, his steps slowing as he came closer.
He stopped just shy, their bodies only a foot apart. He reached out, then dropped his hand. He waited for Cassie. Waited for her to choose him.
But he hadn’t chosen them.
Her tears fell, and strong hands closed around her biceps, the familiar touch comforting. Cassie turned to her man and wrapped her arms around him. Seeing the man they’d wanted for so long, who they’d waited for, right there in front of them was overwhelming. Jake enveloped her in his embrace, his familiar touch comforting. Hard muscle met her fingertips, but he cradled her with infinite gentleness.
“I have to get back there, but I’ll be on break in an hour. Can we talk?”
