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My body feels stiff from the hours of driving, but I push the door open, get out of the truck, and walk toward the bar, mentally bracing myself for the inevitable.
A few unfamiliar people standing outside give me curious looks as I walk past them and push the door open, only to immediately be assaulted by the noises coming from the inside.The loud country music mixes with the sound of laughter and people talking.
I scan the packed space as I make my way through the crowd. It’s mostly ranch hands and town’s people. I recognize a few of the faces, nodding in acknowledgment as I make my way to the bar on the other side of the room.
Mick, the owner, is standing behind the bar, wiping a glass. He raises his brow at me as recognition flashes on his face, “What can I get’cha, Fernandez?”
Sliding onto the barstool, I look over the selection of bottles behind him. “Jack on the rocks. Make it a double.”
He nods silently as he makes my drink, placing it in front of me.
Just when I think I might get through this day without talking to anybody, somebody drawls out slowly, “Well, I’ll be damned. If it ain’t Miguel Fernandez!”
The hairs at the back of my neck prickle as I turn around slowly and come face to face with Lucas Johnson. We went to high school together and played on the football team.
“Hey, man.” I move closer, taking his offered hand. “What’s up?”
“Same old, same old. I didn’t know you were back home.”
Back home.
The words make my stomach roll uncomfortably. Sayingback homesounded so final, so… permanent. I was most definitely not back home.
“I’m just visiting for a while.”
Lucas nods. “You’re here for Emmett’s wedding, right? That one’s been the talk of the town.”
It didn’t surprise me at all. Santiago’s have always been a well-loved family in our little community, and Emmett was the perfect golden boy: A great student, football player, and son all in one. He helped bring the championship home and went tocollege on a football scholarship, where he kicked ass and was so good he could have played professionally. But instead, he decided to return to his hometown and help on his family’s ranch and marry his high-school sweetheart.
He’s everything that you’ve never been and neverwillbe.
“Yeah,” I rasp out, pushing the dark thoughts back. “I’m here for the wedding.”
“Sweet. Although I’m not surprised. You and Santiago have always been glued together.”
“That’s right.” I take a sip of my drink, savoring the burn of the whiskey as I contemplate how to get out of here.
If Lucas notices my reluctance, he chooses to ignore it and simply continues, “I never thought I’d see you here, though. How long has it been since you’ve been home?”
Years.
“A while.” I shrug. “I’ve been busy.”
“Playing professional football.” He slaps me on the shoulder, and I must make a face because he turns serious instantly. “Shit, is that the shoulder you injured?”
I force out a smile. “It’s fine. The shoulder has healed.”
I was still going to PT, and there was some lingering pain when I went overboard, but for the most part, I didn’t lie when I said I was fine.
“That’s good, dude. I can’t wait to see you back on that field. You had an amazing year. I even think the Lonestars could go all the way this time around.”
“We’ll see about that,” I say non-committedly and rush to change the subject. “What have you been up to?”
“Oh, nothing much.” He lifts his hand, signaling Mick for a refill. “Been running my pop’s construction business for the last couple of years since he retired. What can I get’cha to drink?”
I shake my head. “I’m good, thanks.”
“You sure?”
