Heartbreaker (7 page)

“Yeah, but I need to let you in on a little secret.”

He narrows his eyes. I glance at Gerry whose pouring beers in quick succession.

I flick my gaze back to him. “She thinks you’re hot.”

Bennett frowns and sighs, that was probably the wrong thing to say. He hates hearing that. I need to recover quickly.

“No wait, I haven’t finished. In all my years as her best friend I’ve never heard her say that about anyone. Not one guy has registered on her hot meter. Until you.”

Bennett’s frown evaporates and a small grin appears. “Yeah.”

“Yeah.”

His grin widens.

“You like her.”

“I don’t know her that well.”

“Oh, this is so much fun. I never thought I’d see you crack, Bennett Jarvis.”

“There is no cracking this egg. I’m solid.” Bennett beats at his chest.

“Gerry has super egg cracking powers. She doesn’t like to brag, but ...”

Bennett chuckles. “Whatever. I’m not going down that road again.”

“Alright, I know, you’re on the straight and narrow road to Boringsville.”

Bennett grins again and shakes his head.

Gerry comes over and I see a slight blush in her cheeks. “Hey there, you two. Glad you could make it.”

I turn and scowl at Bennett.

He shrugs. “Had to get the low down on the town’s hot spots. Gerry was nice enough to help me out.”

“You’re
officially both off my Christmas list.”

Bennett clutches his chest. “That hurts, Bales, you know I love Christmas.”

Gerry laughs at him and gives us both a bottle of bud. I’m not big on drinking since I came of age last year, but Bennett clinks his bottle against mine, and I take a small swig. He takes a bigger swig then hands over a bill, but Gerry waves him off, which is even more interesting, she never lets anyone con her into free drinks. So straight laced is our Gerry, but looks like new rules apply to Mr Hotness here.

Bennett nods and his eyes stay glued on
her for a few moments while she swoons away and starts serving the other fifty customers yelling orders. She’s dressed conservative tonight. Lyn who runs the bar insists on it. Black pants, no skirts and white t-shirts with The Brew written across the back. Gerry rebels a little by wearing multiple colored head bands in her hair. And I’m betting she has crazy socks on. I make a mental note to check later.

Bennett gulps down
his beer, then slams it on the bar and leans in. “Let’s dance.”

I screw my nose. I really don’t want to, but it’s getting pretty squashy at the bar, people shoving us from behind and to the side, so I decide the dance floor might be a better option.

I nod and Bennett grabs my hand and pulls me through. I haven’t seen anyone I recognize yet, the place seems to be filled with strangers. Must be all the crazy tourists.

A new song starts up when my boots hit the floor and Bennett pulls me into one of the lines. I
’ve only done this once before at school and I was terrible. Seems like that hasn’t changed. I’m stepping all over the place and Bennett is trying to pull me in the right direction laughing his guts out.

I scowl at him as I spin around in the opposing direction. My footing is all wrong and I don’t have chance to grab Bennett, when the middle aged lady beside me steps into me and I trip crashing into the line behind, but I don’t fall. Instead I land in familiar warm arms.

Oh no.

I look up into familiar, mesmerizing light blue eyes, and I lose my breath, ready to pass out once again.

TeN

______________________________________

But I don’t pass out. I hold it together this time. Cam is still staring at me, our eyes locked on each other. I can hear his steady breath so close to my ear. My heart is beating fast, his arm wrapped round my back, burning the skin through the thin material of my shirt. Time seems to stand still. The music and all the people fade around me. It’s just him and me. No one else. Then reality slams into me in the shape of Jennifer Jaimeson, as she pulls at Cam’s arm and glares at me. He lets me go, and I stumble a bit, before I’m caught by another familiar arm.

Bennett.

I don’t have time to think or to say anything, as Bennett yanks me away and off the dance floor. I can’t see Cam and Jennifer anymore, just a sea of smiling, laughing faces all out having a good time.

A good time I wish I could be part of, but I can’t put me in that picture. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

Bennett stops when he finds an empty table at the back of the bar. He hasn’t let go of my hand and pulls me to sit beside him on a long wooden bench seat.

“You okay?” he says next to my ear.

I’m numb right now, so I don’t really know.

I give him a small smile anyway. “Yeah, I’m good.”

Bennett shakes his head, like he doesn’t believe me. “Right. So, that’s the famous Cam.”

I wrinkle my brow, not quite sure how he knows that, he’s never met him before.

Bennett must read my confusion. “It’s obvious, Bales. The way he looks at you, the way you look at him. You two are far from finished.”

What?
We are finished. Finite, final, endgame. Whatever word fits. There is no more us. There has been too much. We can’t fix what I broke.

“I beg to differ,” I say and bite my lip, remembering the feel of his arms around me again. I blink to
try and block out the memory and the tingling feeling on my waist from where his hands held me.

“Who was that he was dancing with?” Bennett asks, gesturing toward the dance floor.

I grit my teeth. “Jennifer Jaimeson. We went to school with her. And he’s not just dancing with her. He’s sleeping with her.”

Bennett frowns. “Seriously. How do you know that?”

“I saw her leaving his house, early one morning, and let’s just say she looked well happy.”

Bennett shakes his head. “Weird, the way he was glaring at her, when she pulled him from you, I wouldn’t have picked that.”

Bennett is delusional. That is so not what happened. He let me go when she pulled his arm.

“Well, believe it, because it’s true. And you’re wrong. We are over. Have been for a long time. I did think I could try, but after seeing her and him together. That’s kind of done it for me.”

Bennett squeezes my hand. “You don’t know for sure, though, Bales.”

I don’t want to continue this conversation, and I’m so glad when I look up to see my Dad walking towards us. Thank god.

Never thought I’d be so pleased to see my Dad, in a bar, crashing in on my good time, but I could seriously hug him right now.

He gives Bennett a big grin and sits down opposite. He looks happy. Relieved. Like he didn’t think Bennett could pull this off and get me out of the house.

“Hey there, you two. Have you been dancing? It’s a full bar tonight. Lyn will be pleased.”

Lyn? So those two are friendly. Never knew that. I mean, I know Dad goes out for drinks after work each week, but never knew where, or that he’s besties with a lady bar owner. Kind of stings for a minute, as I think of Mom. I’m jolted back to real time as Gerry sidles in next to my Dad and passes out a bottle of bud to each of us.

“Cheers,” she says and clinks her bottle to mine.

I cheer back, and take a swig. They're all watching me, and I really want to leave and go home and crawl into my bed. But I know I can't. I take another swig and start chatting to Gerry about the shop and her day. Dad and Bennett start talking about the shares he’s thinking of buying, and to anyone looking our way we must appear like a close group having a great
time. Having a drink and a chat.

I love pretence. I love the way it hides the hurt.

And I’m really loving this beer right now. I forgot how alcohol can take the edge off. I take several more swigs until there isn’t any left. Bennett shoots me several glances. I know what he’s thinking. Sometimes I wish he didn’t take on his role as guardian angel so seriously. I mean I get it. But I need to let my hair down without any agendas, and it was his bright idea to bring me out in the first place.

“I’m going to get another beer,” I yell out to Gerry.

She frowns at me and I roll my eyes and hold up one finger. “I’ve only had one.”

“I’ll come with.”

“No, no you stay here and chat to Bennett.” I smile at her tapping my nose, and she glares at me.

Dad stands. “I’ll go …
with
,” he commands, not suggests.

Damn, not only do I have the two pesky mother hens, Dad’s here as well to be a buzz kill.

“I have to go to the bathroom,” I shout to Dad, and point in the direction of the restrooms. “Meet you at the bar.”

He narrows his eyes, but nods.

I fight my way through the crowds, my head swimming. I did drink that beer a bit quick. Oh well, I’m feeling a little giddy and a lot better.

I love beer.

The door to the bathroom seems like such a long way away, and the crowd is getting thicker. Before I know what’s happening, I’m being swung and put down next to this big cowboy looking guy who’s boot scooting like a pro, dressed for the part in his Stetson hat and rawhide boots. He’s got his hands on my hips and is guiding me to follow his steps. I giggle at the way I’m all over the place and he’s grinning at me.

He leans down and whispers, “You’re cute. What’s your name?”

Cute? What the hell?

Kitten and puppies are cute. I wonder how old he is to be calling me pet names like that. He laughs at me. I must have disgust written across my face in big black letters.

My head is a little fuzzy and the cowboy is picking me up and spinning me again. Whoa, that’s not really wise, he could be seeing more of me than he wants, if he doesn’t quit that. I put my hand on his chest to tell him to stop and try to catch my breath, when I catch a glimpse of a very familiar body coming closer and closer. Cam. God he’s amazing. I love the way he moves. So confident. So sure of what he wants. I wish he was coming for me. I wish he wanted me. A tear forms in my eye.

Stop that, Bailey Ryan.

Maybe I don’t love beer so much. I’m such a light weight. One quick beer and I’m dancing with a stranger one minute and crying over Cam the next. Then I remember Dad. Crap, he’ll be freaking out, I must have been gone a while.

I try and shove away from the cowboy, when I realize I still have my hand resting on his chest. He’s stopped dancing and grips my shoulder edging us further away from the dance floor.

What the hell.

I look up into his eager brown eyes and shake my head. The music is pumping, it’s so loud in here, there's no way he could hear me, but I need to get my message across. Then he’s looking over my shoulder and I see recognition in his eyes. I turn to see who he’s looking at and come face to face with Cam.

Shit. Not again.

He must think I’m doing this on purpose. The cowboy's grip on my shoulder slips and I presume he’s decided to give me up, so I’m left here with Cam.

I stand frozen as he looks at me. Really looks at me. God that hurts to have him actually look at me. It’s the first time he has, well when I’ve been conscious. I can’t really tell what he’s thinking. Funny, I always could, but not right now. Not in this moment.

I don’t move, even though it's killing me. I feel exposed, like I'm bare naked, and I really want to look away and crawl into a hole somewhere, but I don’t. I let him have this. I want him to see me vulnerable and weak. Because that’s what I am. He needs to see that too. He needs to move on. Jennifer Jaimeson is not for him, but I’m not for him either. The ghost of what we had is just that. He needs to stop being haunted by us and the past. I really want him to have a good life. And I’m not good. Not for him anyway. Not anymore.

His beautiful blue eyes don’t leave me and I can’t take much more of his scrutiny. I’m just about to look away, turn away, walk away, when there’s a tap on my shoulder.

“Bailey, honey, you alright?”

Dad.

I let out a breath and turn to look over my shoulder at him. “Yeah. Sorry, I got held up.”

Dad arches a brow and then looks to Cam. “I see. Hi, Cam.”

“Bill,” Cam replies, and I wonder when he started calling my Dad by his first name. It’s insignificant, but it says so much about how much I’ve missed.

“You two okay?” Dad says looking between us.

Terrific question, Dad. Where to start on that one. Then again, there’s no point starting anything. We’re done here.

“Travis was hitting on her.”

What? Who's Travis?

Then I follow Cam’s eyes trailing off to settle on the big cowboy. Travis, I presume, though I’ve never met him before. And hitting on me is a bit extreme. Showing some interest maybe, but nothing major. I’ve had way worse. I shiver, and try not to think about that.

“You cold?” Cam asks suddenly.

“Um, no. Not cold,” I say and Cam frowns at me. I want to press out those creases on his forehead and kiss that spot, like I always used to. God, I’m so desperate.

Why can’t I just get over him?

Because you love him. You’ll always love him, you dumb idiot.

Stupid thoughts! I hate the way they tell the truth of it.