She shrugs. “It’s possible. What man wouldn’t want to have a beauty like you all to himself?” Her eyes narrow, seeming to look at me with fresh eyes. “You really like this man, don’t you?”
“Maybe.” I can’t fight the smile from curling my mouth.
“Well, hold your head high and start expecting men to treat you the way you deserve, and they will.”
My gaze drops to my lap. “That part’s not so easy. I spent a lifetime being told I wasn’t wanted. That I was nothing but a burden. That the only way I’d ever have a man was to be under one.” The verbal abuse from my mother over the years had left me feeling unworthy and naïve. Grateful for whatever crumbs someone would toss my way. “My mother was the complete opposite of you. She blamed me for her lot in life. Then when push came to shove, she chose men over me.”
Without missing a beat, Betty leans over the table, clutching my hand in hers. “Well, there’s a new mother in your life now. Andthis onewill choose you over any man! Every. Single. Time!”
I have to blink back the tears. It’s what Liz and Margaret have done for me. Now this incredible woman. What had I done to deserve such loyalty?
“Bibbidi-Bobbidi-boo.”
“Oh my god.” Laughter through tears. It’s the best medicine on earth.
The following night,Betty takes me on a tour of her favorite places on Amelia Island. Not the rich, tourist traps like the Ritz Carlton, but The Palace Saloon, Florida’s oldest bar since 1903. They had pool tables, a lot of cool history, and lively music. And, of course, Betty entered as if she was the town’s biggest celebrity.
“This place is fantastic.”
“It is, isn’t it? Been coming here for years.”
I grin, taking in the electric vibe of the place. “I need to hit the ladies’ room. I think I’ve had a little too much Pirate’s Punch.” I snort.
Betty points in the direction of the restrooms just as an attractive man in a leather vest approaches, looking at her with hearts in his eyes.
I make my way to the back corner of the bar and quickly take care of business. After touching up my makeup in the cracked old bathroom mirror, I step into the hall, where I collide with a hard body.
“Well, hello.”
My brows furrow. The voice isn’t familiar, but something about this guy is. He’s tall, with dark hair and an ominous presence. He’s attractive, but his unwelcome nearness is making all of the hairs on my body stand on end. I take a step back, contemplating darting back in the restroom. But I don’t know if there was a lock on the main door. The last thing I want is to get trapped in there with him.
“Something wrong?”
“No. I just need to get back to my friend.” I point over his shoulder.
“What’s your rush?” He takes a step closer, and my mouth goes dry. Shit. Will anyone see us here if he tries any?—
“If you want to keep your balls attached to your dick and not stored in a Mason jar, I suggest you step away from her. Now!”
The dark, looming stranger turns to find Betty standing behind him, a small pistol drawn. It’s pointed at his junk. He lifts his hands as if surrendering. “Meant no harm. Just trying to be friendly.” His voice is far less menacing now that he’s begging for the life of his family jewels.
“She doesn’t need any new friends. Start walking.”
And he does.
My heart rate is flying at the speed of light right now. “Jeez, Betty. I didn’t know you were packing.”
The attractive biker who approached our table earlier stands behind her. “Ha, she keeps it in her gun rack.”
My forehead scrunches in confusion. Until she returns the small pistol between her breasts.
“It’s a bra holster.” She shrugs. “I got tired of looking bloated from wearing it around my stomach.”
She keeps it in her rack. Her gun rack.I throw my head back in a fit of giggles. Oh, how I love this unbelievable woman.
Once we’re back at Betty’s place, I decide to go all in and share who I’ve been running from. It feels good knowing I can trust all of the incredible women in my life with my secrets. Knowing they’d have my back if I needed them.
CHAPTER THIRTY
