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He gritted his teeth and went to the empty barstool and sat down. Boone and Flint sat on either side of him.
Cara whipped her head to the side, and the moment that she saw him... There was something on her face, and he couldn’t quite read it. But it reminded him of the sun coming up from behind the mountains. It reminded him of some kind of beauty he never considered before. Something that had never been spoken about or written about or even sung about. And he was not a poet by nature. But there was something that stirred inside of his soul that defied words and poetry. Something that made him feel unworthy. Of standing there. Of looking at her.
Of being in this spot.
He looked up behind her, at the Jack Daniel’s bottle there that contained Mitch.
And he didn’t believe in that sort of thing, but he had to wonder if the old man knew somehow. Maybe he’d just put a hex on him. Left a spell behind here in the bar that would affect any man that ever looked at Cara.
Why was that less insane than thinking he might be here now? He couldn’t say.
Except he’d always been pretty clear within himself that... That the end was the end.
But hoping for anything else was just trying to put a Band-Aid on the pain that life brought.
He was resistant to Band-Aids. He preferred to rub a little dirt in it and get on with things.
Yeah. You get on with things so well. You’re thirty years old and have no idea what you want.
“Can we get a drink?”
His voice came out harsh, and he felt bad, because he sure as hell didn’t need to talk to her that way. Especially not when she just looked at him like that. Her expression fell, and he felt like a dick.
“Yeah.” She had recovered quickly, grinning like he was just another bar patron. She often did that. It was part of the show, after all. She didn’t break character when she was behind the bar.
She moved over and put her hand on her hip. “Boone? Flint? What can I get for you?”
“Something strong,” said Flint.
“I drew the short straw,” said Boone. “I’m driving. So I’ll just have a beer.”
“I know what you like,” she said to Jace.
And the words felt like a swipe of her tongue, straight down the center of his chest.
And that was a weird and graphic metaphor that he’d certainly never thought before. Not about her.
“She knows what you like,” said Boone.
“I could know what you like too, Boone. If you’d let me.”
“Shit,” Jace said. “It’s bad enough that they pull this kind of stuff to make me mad. Now you’re in on it?” he asked.
Cara looked at him blandly, then shrugged. “What’s the harm in it?”
“God Almighty,” said Jace. “You’re all going to be the death of me.”
She winked at Boone.Winkedat him.
“Well,” said Boone. “Never mind. I take back everything I said about you practically being married to her. She’s obviously single.”
“Really, are you just trying to make me mad?”
“Why are you so mad?” Flint asked.
And the problem was, he didn’t have an answer. Not a good one. Not a good one at all.
“I want a burger,” he said. “If you’re done flirting with my brother.”
