Page 32 of A Pen Pal for Christmas

“Anyone need another?” she asked.

But before any of us could answer, the door to the bar opened. I turned instinctively, catching sight of the man who’d just walked in. And as Tommy stiffened, I held back a curse.

Dane moved forward with an easy arrogance, almost like he owned the place. I felt Tommy shift beside me, like he was physically holding himself back from heading right for the guy. His hand tightened around his beer bottle, his expression hardening into something sharp. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” he muttered, keeping his voice low.

I didn’t reply, but by the time Tommy lost the battle with himself to stay seated, I was already halfway off my stool. Not because I thought he needed me there, but because some part of me wouldn’t let him go alone.

Not one to step on toes, I glanced back at Jack. Tommy’s partner watched with a furrowed brow, but he hadn’t moved when I had. Something told me he would if he needed to, and that he was one of those guys who was patient enough to make sure no one ever saw him coming.

Rolling my neck, I followed Tommy through the bar. Dane hadn’t noticed us yet. His eyes were locked on Sofia.

I looked over my shoulder, noting that she was still rooted in place in front of the stools we’d just occupied.

She didn’t look scared—far from it. If anything, her shoulders were set, her jaw tight in a way that read more annoyed than anything else. But even from across the room, I could see the subtle way she exhaled, like she was preparing for whatever was about to happen.

Tommy intercepted Dane, cutting him off mid-stride. “You’ve got a lot of nerve showing up here after I know she told you to leave town.”

Dane tilted his head as he smirked. “Tommy, hey. Long time, no see.”

The familiarity in his tone was almost casual, like they were old friends. But Tommy wasn’t biting. His stance was firm, his shoulders squared. “I’m not interested in catching up, Dane. You heard what I said.”

“I did, but you’re wrong. She didn’t tell me to leavetown. Not specifically, anyway.”

I could almost hear Tommy’s jaw clenching. “What are you doing here?”

Dane’s smirk widened, his hands sliding into his jacket pockets. “Relax. I’m just here to grab a drink, same as anyone else.”

“Cut the act,” Tommy said, his voice dropping an octave.

Dane’s gaze flicked past Tommy, landing on Sofia again. His mouth softened into something that might have been genuine if it weren’t for the arrogant tilt of his chin. “I just want to talk to her.”

“Well, she doesn’t want to talk to you,” Tommy snapped, stepping closer. “You need to leave her alone.”

“You don’t get to tell me what I can and can’t do. This is between me and Sofia.”

“It stopped being between you and Sofia the second you got yourself locked up,” Tommy shot back, his frustration spillingover. “You’re not good for her, Dane, and she knows it. She’s moved on. You need to do the same.”

Dane’s jaw ticked, but his voice stayed calm, almost mockingly so. “You don’t know what you’re talking about, Tommy. And that holier-than-thou thing you’ve got going on? It’s cute, but put it away before you embarrass yourself.”

Tommy’s fists clenched at his sides, and I stepped closer, making my presence known without saying a word.

Dane’s eyes flicked to me, his expression shifting slightly, but he didn’t say anything. I was sure he recognized me from the cafe, and frankly, it didn’t say much for his tough-guy act that he only noticed me when I took that step. Did he even know I’d had him in my sights from the moment he’d walked in?

“That’s enough.” Sofia’s voice broke the tension like a splash of cold water. She was no longer behind the bar, but standing next to us now, her dark eyes sharp as they darted between the three of us.

“Sofia—” Tommy started, but she cut him off.

“No,” she said firmly. “I can handle this.”

Her posture was strong, but I could see the strain in her eyes from all the frustration simmering within her. It was clear she wasn’t scared of Dane—she was tired of him. Tired of the way he kept showing up, refusing to let go of something that had obviously been over for far too long. In her mind, anyway.

Dane’s gaze softened again as he turned to her. “Sof, I just wanted to?—”

“I don’t care what you wanted, Dane,” she said, cutting him off with a sharpness that surprised me. “I’ve told you before, and I’ll tell you again: I don’t want to talk to you. Not here. Not anywhere. I’m done.”

“Sof—”

“Don’t,” she snapped, her voice rising just enough to draw a few curious glances from nearby tables.

---