Too bad my attraction to her wouldn’t stay in the past.
My stomach rumbled, loudly, insistent that more scrambled eggs wouldn’t cut it.
I should go home, start a custom table for the Boston guy tomorrow. Once I was absorbed in a project, I wouldn’t come up for air until it was done. Then the storm would hit and I’d cook another roast to gnaw on for a few days.
The smell of burgers filled the air. My stomach cramped. Fuck it.
I loaded my items and drove to the bar a block down the road. Curly’s would serve a good meal, and I could even order one to go like I usually did when I splurged, but a hot bar burger sounded good.
When I entered, I went to the side of the counter that flanked three large monitors, one playing a basketball game, another with old UFC footage, and the third playing CHIVE TV. I climbed on a stool and carefullybent my left leg to prop my foot on the metal rail close to the floor. Then I leaned my cane under the bar top.
“Dunn,” the bartender greeted, only slight surprise in his voice. His gaze was stunned, but he was trying to rein in his shock. Mike had been a few years ahead of me in school. I used to come to this place all the time with Teller. “What can I get you?”
“A burger, medium, and fries. I’ll take a Sprite.”
He nodded and disappeared around the bar.
I scrolled through my phone and answered email queries about my pricing and timeline. People arrived, stopping midsentence when they spotted me. I kept my hair hanging over my face. I hated being stared at. My clothing was clean and I’d trimmed my beard before the wedding. There was no reason to stare. Yet their gazes burned into me.
When the food arrived, I watched the basketball game playing on the TV in front of me and steadily ate my food so I could leave. I was about to stuff the last fry into my mouth when the familiar smell of floral perfume surrounded me.
Jackie slid onto a stool two down from me. It was rare I saw her around town. Our meetings were usually prearranged. She no longer hung on me like she had in high school. She saved that for the bedroom.
“Dunn.” She ran her hand over the silky strands lying over one shoulder, her gaze on the TV monitors. She was in a long-sleeved shirt as tight as her jeans.
“Weller.” My typical response when she called me by my last name.
“I heard you had some company.” She tapped the bar and lifted her chin toward Mike as if to say she was having her usual. She still didn’t meet my gaze.
The wedding chatter had begun. Did Summer know? I was tired of being a popular topic. I stuffed my fry in ketchup and popped it in my mouth.
“No reply? Interesting.” This time, she spared me a glance. Her cunning gaze burned into my cheek.
“I don’t need to explain myself.”
Her dark brows lifted and she turned her attention back to the Chive channel. “Nope. You never do.”
I wasn’t bringing up old times. Our new times were nothing significant. Two lonely people hooking up. I might even lose her number after this. After having Summer talk to me like I was a full person and not just the post-accident remnants of Jonah Dunn, I would delete Jackie’s number.
I wanted more.
Jackie didn’t talk to me if she saw me in a store. She didn’t sit right next to me when we were both at the bar. And she didn’t acknowledge me if she was talking to another man.
Was she embarrassed to be linked with me? I didn’t care.
But maybe . . . I was starting to.
I slid off my stool. I didn’t bend my left leg enough and knocked into my cane. It clattered to the floor. Mike glanced over and looked away quickly. I was so fucking sick of the quick look away, as if I might rampage like Bourbon Canyon’s very own Frankenstein’s monster.
Jackie’s gaze dropped to my cane, then went back to the insurance commercial on one of the TVs.
Any attraction I had ever felt for her shriveled. I should’ve quit sleeping with her months ago. I shouldn’t have restarted when she’d moved back to town. Hell,things should’ve been severed in high school. Definitely before she left me to run off with another man.
Tonight, I learned my lesson.
I gingerly bent to retrieve my cane. When it was back in my left hand, I gave it a good thump on the floor. My limp was extra loud as I made my way to the door. Stares branded into my back.
What would be said about me? Would people brush off the rumors of Summer staying with me after the wedding? How could a radiant woman like her tolerate a bitter recluse like me?
