Page 31 of Chilled

“Let’s stop on the way and grab a quick bite. I’m hungry, and I bet you haven’t eaten since yesterday.”

“Now that you mention it, I am a bit hungry.” She glanced at the digital clock on the dash where bright green numbers flashed eleven o’clock. “Not that we’ll have many choices at this hour. This isn’t D.C. or Chicago. In Riverton, North Dakota, restaurants close promptly at nine o’clock on weeknights.”

“The chief recommended a bar down the street from the police station that’s supposed to have the best buffalo wings this side of the Red River.”

Brenna’s fingers tightened on the steering wheel. She remembered the place. It was the same place she’d met Victor over two years ago. How could she tell Nick she didn’t want to go there because of the bad memories associated with the place?

She didn’t, choosing to keep her mouth shut and her eyes on the road. Besides, what were the chances of running into her ex-lover on a Monday night?

With extreme restraint, she managed to drive past the police station without stopping. Her gut told her to pull into the parking lot and let Nick take her car from there. But then she’d have to explain why she wasn’t hungry all of a sudden, and she wasn’t ready to own up to a bad love affair. Especially not to Nick, who’d turned her inside out with just one kiss.

The Rusty Nail Tavern was located a block off Main Street in the older section of Riverton. The building was one of the Historical Society’s landmarks. For as long as Brenna could recall and as many owners as it had seen, it had been a bar.

Nick held the door for her to enter the dark interior.

“Want to sit in a booth?” he asked.

The last time she’d been in the Rusty Nail was with Victor, and he’d always insisted on sitting in a dark corner booth. She’d thought he just wanted to be alone with her, until she’d learned he was married. “Let’s sit at the bar.”

Once seated, Nick asked her for her preference and ordered spicy wings.

Brenna risked a look around the room, half expecting to find Victor there. When she didn’t see him, she relaxed a little, chuckling beneath her breath at the absurdity of her fear.

She hadn’t seen him in two years, and even if she did run into him, they were no longer an item. After he’d told her he was married, she’d lost all respect for the man. Of course, he hadn’t bothered to tell her until after they’d spent the night in his hotel room.

“If you’ll excuse me, I want to wash my hands.” Brenna slid from the stool and made her way down a darkened hallway to the ladies’ restroom.

Inside, she stared at herself in the mirror. The dark circles beneath her eyes and her sweat-and-smoke-matted hair didn’t help her appearance. She never went out looking this shabby. What must the bartender think of her in such a state? What must Nick think? Not that she cared. She was too tired to care about much. Nevertheless, she ran her fingers through her hair and splashed water in her face. Once she felt a little more presentable, she left the bathroom and walked straight into a man in the hallway.

“Excuse me,” she said and backed away.

His hands went out to steady her. “Brenna?”

What were the chances of running into an ex-lover in a town with over fifty-five thousand people? Brenna’s luck hadn’t been the best lately. She should have known better than to tempt fate. “Hello, Victor.”

CHAPTER 8

The blond-haired,blue-eyed man blocking her path looked much the same as he had two years ago, with the addition of a few more wrinkles across the forehead and dark circles beneath the eyes.

“I heard you were back,” he said.

“Yup, I’m back.” Brenna eased to the side, trying to inch past Victor, all the while wondering what she’d seen in him. Besides being classically good-looking, he was too full of himself with the cocky air of a used-car salesman—nowhere near the self-confidence of a ruggedly handsome man like Nick Tarver.

Nick.

Great. One of the biggest mistakes in her life had to show up at about the worst time he could manage, and he wasn’t moving out of her way. She had two choices. Knee him where it counted or ask him to move. Although her first choice would have been more satisfying, she said, “Victor, if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to get by.”

“What’s your hurry?” He leaned close and brushed a hair from her face, the overpowering scent of cheap whiskey gagging Brenna. “You and I used to be good together. Don’t you remember?”

“All I remember is that you lied to me.”

“What’s a little lie compared to what we had?”

“One night in a motel?” Brenna let go with an unladylike snort. “Sorry, it wasn’t that memorable.”

“You should be thankful I wanted you.” Victor’s eyes narrowed. “What with your...issues. Good thing we did it with the lights off.”

“Better if we hadn’t done it at all.” She crossed her arms over her chest, reminding herself Victor wasn’t worth losing her temper over. “Now, move.”

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