But unfortunately, I doseehim.
Hard not to, when I’m barely five-three and he’s well over six feet on a bad day.
I force myself to focus on the man who just walked into the tavern. The man I love, the one I uprooted my entire life in Boston for to come to his small town and build a life with.
Arthur Penngrove.
Art’s brow is furrowed, his shoulders hunched like the weight he’s carrying is too much to bear.
The Round Table has been sluggish for two weeks, ever since Freddy and Marcus died, and honestly, I could have taken some time off, let the other server Rosalie work my shifts instead. But, if I’m not here, then I’m just a kept woman pretending I’m living a full life, waiting for Art to visit me. A side piece he sneaks away for.
Stop it, Ginny. You love him. He loves you. That’s all that matters.
Art covers his mouth with his hand, then drops it to his side.
My face drops along with it.
“What’s wrong?” I step out from behind the bar and wipe my palms on the front of my jeans.
“I need to talk to Lance.”
“Seriously?” I say. “You’re kicking me out?”
Lance grins. “Don’t getjealous, Genevieve. I’ll give him back.”
My fists clench so tight my nails bite skin, and I hate that I don’t know why his goading works, but I won’t give him the satisfaction of seeing it, so I blink and envision all the ways he could wither away to nothing.
“Fine. I’ll just…go do something else, I guess.”
“Don’t go far,” Art says.
Oh, I won’t.
“Why do you let her treat you like that?” Lance’s voice is dripping with venom, and I hesitate, pressing my back against the kitchen wall.
What does he meanItreathimlike that?
Art’s sigh is heavy, and I imagine him sinking into a chair.Running a hand through his gelled hair, or dragging a palm down his face. Maybe he’s relieved I’m gone.
My teeth press together at the thought.
I peer around the corner of the kitchen and into the bar.
Art pulls at his necktie.
“She’s complicated,” he says.
“You all right?”
“Yeah, you know how it is. Parental bullshit.”
“That’s why we’re part of the Silver Spoon Survivors’ Club.”
Art’s mouth curls up. “Founding members.”
“Your dad still pissed you bought this place?”
He cringes, his eyes floating along the back of the bar. “Among other things.”
