Her brows pull together. “Why? I tried to keep it simple.”
“You know you’re gorgeous.” My grip tightens on the steering wheel. “No matter what you wear. And this look?” I exhale. “This could get you lots of free shots.”
Silence stretches, carrying everything I can’t say. I check on her without turning fully and catch her turning toward the window, gazing into the darkening forest. But not before I see it. The quick bite of her lower lip, tucking her hair behind her ear to hide a smile she can’t suppress.
“Could say the same about you,” she says teasingly, pointing at my shirt and worn denims. “Your suits are nice and all, but this fit? Any woman would buy you a drink just for how your ass looks in those jeans.”
I bark out a laugh, the tension easing. She relaxes back into her seat, a small smirk settling at the corners of her mouth.
Inside, the bar reeks of fried food and beer, the air buzzing with the thrum of conversation and the clatter of glasses. A couple of guards in plain clothes sit at the table near the exit, trying their best to blend in. Even if the place is full, in a town this small, newcomers can’t go unnoticed, but I gave Rusty a heads-up, and nobody’s giving them trouble.
And then I spot them. Laughter spilling out of our booth in the corner, all my old friends crammed together, drinks in hand.
Theo spots me first and hollers, slamming his beer down on the table. “The runaway is here.”
“Still not a fan of working at your garage, Theo, get over it,” I shoot back.
He waves his hand dismissively. “Fine, keep your fancy job.”
My hand finds the small of Jackie’s back, giving her a gentle push forward. “This is … my friend. Jackie.” That was smooth. “Carter’s sister.”
A chorus of hellos and welcomes rises from the table, and she shyly waves at them. “Nice to meet you all.”
I let her slide in beside Mell, but I refrain from taking the narrow spot at the end. I’d enjoy every bit of the light pressure of her body against my side. But distance is safer, even if it doesn’t feel like it.
Instead, I take the lone chair pulled up to the side.
Conversation sparks back up, easy and familiar. At first, Jackie’s posture is rigid, shoulders squared like she is bracing for questions. But it’s all small-town gossip: whose cousin got engaged, whose brother spent the night in the drunk tank, the usual. Slowly, she eases back, curiosity lighting her features as she listens.
We’re laughing over one of Luke’s stories when Maggie swings by. I’m surprised she still works here. She leans low to take my order, cleavage spilling out of the tight T-shirt.
I shift back to put some space between us. “A ginger ale,” I say, then cover Jackie’s hand with mine. “What are you in the mood for?”
Her gaze slides from Maggie to my hand, then her lips twitch, a glimpse of mischief flashing across her expression. “I don’t thinkthat’son the menu,” she says, batting her eyelashes theatrically, before glancing at Maggie, now standing stiffly. “Whatever local IPA you have.”
“Can’t hold your liquor anymore, old man?” Luke tuts at me as we place our food order.
I laugh it off, but don’t feel like explaining. I’ve given my friends a curated version of my life in New York. I’ll leave it at that for now.
Jackie doesn’t miss a beat. “He’s the designated driver.” Then she leans over the table and whispers. “I’m a menace to society on the road.”
They all burst out laughing.
“Oh, it sounds familiar”, Ethan laughs, until his girlfriend swats his shoulder.
“I ended up in the ditchonce,” Mell snaps. “When are you going to let it go?”
“Your dad framed the newspaper article in his office,” I tease, and the table howls.
In the ruckus, Jackie elbows her phone off the edge, and she bends down quickly to pick it up. Before I think, my hand presses against the table corner to keep her from bumping her head.
“Well, we love them either way, right?” Ethan says and raises a knowing brow.
She resurfaces, smiling widely at him, not getting the joke. One of her real smiles, the kind I haven’t seen in years.
And in a blink, I see it again.MyJackie, breaking through. The more time we spend together, the more she slips out in glimpses. And every time it feels like something precious is handed back to me.
“Food’s here, guys,” Maggie calls over the music, now loud enough that some people drift to the dance floor.
