Page 29 of Willow Vale

Stepping out onto the floor, I spotted Delilah standing behind the bar, facing three older men, including Saul. They all looked a little more on the tipsy side, but they were good men. Harmless really. I know this because anytime Desi had to announce a last call and one of them tried to convince her to serve one more drink, one glare from the fiery redhead sent them paying their tab that instant. They didn’t argue with me when I was behind the bar. If anything, they scurried away the moment I took over for Desi for the remainder of the night.

But tonight, it appeared neither Jake nor Desi werearound. Leaving Delilah alone with a grinning Saul who slid a shot glass her way.

I frowned as she shook her head while saying politely, “I couldn’t do that, Saul. That shot’s for you, you ordered it.”

“Don’t you worry about it! C’mon. One drink!” This time Saul was supported by his two friends, all of them sporting excited grins as they watched Delilah with an eagerness that rubbed me the wrong way. Why the hell were they looking at her like she hung the moon? I could chalk it up to the amount of alcohol they consumed up to this point, but it didn’t mean I had to like it.

Did I have a right to feel this way? Probably not.

After Victor’s little visit, I was just about done with tonight. The last thing I needed was to kick Saul and his buddies out.

I tensed at the same time she did when Saul inched the shot closer. She was clearly at war with, once again, trying to reject his offer and confessing what I knew weighed heavily on her mind.

Delilah didn’t drink. As a rule, as a way of living, she didn’t drink. Not wanting to become dependent on something to make her feel good in the moment like Irene did.

I knew that was Delilah’s greatest fear—becoming like Irene.

Seeing her conflict etched across the furrow of her brows and flat line of her usually full lips, I was moving before I realized what I was doing. Just as Saul and the guys started to chant,“Drink, drink, drink!”

“No, really I’d rather not—” She swallowed nervously while they continued chanting, ignoring her completely.

Before her dainty fingers could graze the curve of the glass to push it back toward Saul, I snatched it up. Delilah gasped, looking at me with wide eyes. I took a second to losemyself in her eyes before I downed the shot in one go. The liquid hit my tongue and warmed my throat as I swallowed the tequila down and I found it impossible to tear my eyes away from the woman before me as she kept staring at me. Her lips parted in surprise.

I forced a grin, remembering we had an audience and trying not to kill Saul for pressuring her to drink when she clearly said no.

Because she was my friend and employee.

Yeah,that’sthe only reason why—because she’s your employee.

“Stop trying to scare my girl away. I need all the help I can get if I’m going to wrangle you assholes out of here every night. Let her work in peace,” I told the guys.

Saul’s mouth opened and closed like some gaping fish. If I wasn’t trying to rein in my bubbling anger toward the men who frequented The Rusty Pint since it first opened, I would have laughed at the petrified look on their flushed faces.

“Sorry, ma’am,” one of them said to Delilah.

Before they could say anything more, I turned to face Delilah, who was sporting a shocked expression of her own. As if she couldn’t wrap her head around what I’d just done. Hell, I didn’t know why I’d done it either. All I knew was that I hated the panicked look on her face, and I wanted to erase it from existence.

“Why don’t you head out? I’ll take over,” I finally said.

“Are you sure?” She glanced between me and the guys.

I set the glass down and placed my hands on her slender shoulders, steering her away and giving her a gentle nudge. “I’m sure. Get going before it gets too late. Careful on the road.”

With a nod, she headed toward the break room down the hall, most likely to retrieve her bag. I tried to focus onanything but the curves of her body, closing my fists to trap the heat that seemed to sear my palms after touching her shoulders. It wasn’t like I hadn’t touched her before.

In much more intimate places, with far less clothes involved?—

Nope. Not going there. The last thing I needed was to fantasize about my ex-girlfriend.

That first year after she broke things off and we stopped talking all together, I can admit I was hurt. Really confused and angry. No woman had ever made me feel the way Delilah had—made me question everything, including what I’d meant to her—and I hadn’t wanted to feel that way anymore. I didn’t want to give her that power over me.

So, I did what she said she wanted four years ago.

I tried to move on. I went out with a woman if she caught my eye at a bar. I went on dates that never led to more. Not because I didn’t find the women I was with attractive or interesting to talk to. They just…weren’t right for me.

Because try as I did, I could never stop thinking about the one woman I’d wanted like I wanted air to breathe. It wasn’t just a physical connection between me and Delilah. Not like it had been with the other women I’d slept with in the past. I’d cared for her in a way I knew I’d never care for another woman. There was history that neither distance nor time could erase.

Shortly after buying The Rusty Pint, I’d had one bad night. I was exhausted that day, had been working at the ranch and needed to unwind at the bar with the guys. I’d gotten so drunk that night that the only thing I recalled was typing out a text meant for Delilah right as Mindy Kerrigan sauntered her way over. She kissed me or maybe I’d kissed her, and somewhere down the line she’d tried to get me to the bathroom to fool around by pulling me off the stool.

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