Page 12 of Coming Home

“The one who got away?”

“Yep.” I clear my throat and try to decide how to play the evening.

Travis pours a mixture of liquids together. “Here you go.” He shoves the drink toward me.

I wrinkle my nose. “What’s this?”

“A Quick White Sangria. It’s what she ordered.” He grins. “I figure you’re trying to get in her pants, and we’re at a bar. It stands to reason you should buy her a drin

k.”

“Ah, good idea.” I reach into my back pocket and grab my wallet.

“On the house. I’ve known you for seven years, and you’ve never mentioned a girlfriend. Savannah would kick my ass if I didn’t play matchmaker.”

“Thanks, man.” I grasp the glass and turn.

“If you need to borrow my office apartment, feel free. Savannah and the kids are with her dad tonight. They won’t be back until later, so no one will be using it. Just catch my attention, so I don’t accidentally walk in on a free show.”

“Yeah.” I purse my lips together and shake my head. “I don’t see that happening.” I’ll be lucky if she talks to me. I saunter across the floor, dodging between the tables on my way to the back of the bar. The refurbished wooden planks pop under the weight of my biker boots.

A couple of guys from the club wave and point at an empty chair. I tilt my head and nod. “Later, guys.”

Their attention immediately zones in on Natalie. Crap. I’m never going to hear the end of this. Aiden Payne smacks Paul Lister on the chest, and they laugh uncontrollably. Pricks.

After I approach the table, I hold out the drink. “Travis said you ordered a Sangria.”

Several seconds pass before she lowers the menu and stares. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m friends with the owner and his wife.”

“No.” She shakes her head. “You live on the other side of town. What are you doing here?” She waves her hand in a circle indicating the neighborhood.

So much for playing it off. It’s time to spill my guts. “I came looking for you.”

She sets down the menu and licks her lips. “Really?”

“Yes.” I place the drink on the wooden surface in front of her and inhale. After holding my breath for several seconds, I ran a hand through my hair. Here goes nothing. “I realize we can’t go back and change the past, but I care about you, and I miss seeing you.”

Tears fill her eyes. “Shit.” She blinks furiously until they dry.

“Are you okay?” I’ve seen that look hundreds of times. My hands ball into fists. I want to find the cocksucker and choke him.

“Not really.” She jerks her head toward the seat across from her. “Have a seat.” After wrapping her hands around the glass, she shoves her empty one to the end of the table. “I guess one more drink won’t kill me, but no more after this.”

I slip into the open bench and the vinyl whooshes as I shift my hips. “I understand.” She’d always sworn she’d never indulge like her father. Hell. Maybe she turned into a drunk. How would I know? Shit. Don’t be a dick.

Lying my arms on the table, I clasp my hands together. “What happened?”

She sags against the cushions but doesn’t ask what I mean. “I don’t know why I expect him to be any different. He’s the same asshole he was when I left.”

“Did he touch you?” The pressure in my head is so high I’m afraid my brain is going to explode.

“No. He’s too weak to do that at this point.” She shakes her head and cradles the drink in her hands. “But, his tongue is still vicious.”

“Don’t go back. You can come to my place. You don’t have to ever subject yourself to how he treats you.”

A small smile curves up to her cheeks, and she reaches out. When her hands land on mine, my entire body stills. I can’t even breathe. I’ve missed her touch. Her closeness. As my body comes back to life, I fight the urge to yank her over the table and into my lap.

---