Why was I laughing? Wasn’t this supposed to be inconvenient? Miserable?
I was more screwed up than I thought. Because whatever this thing between Blue and me was, it wasn’t supposed to feel light. It wasn’t supposed to feel good.
I stood there for another minute, then headed for the hallway, pausing at the intersection.
One direction led out the back door.
The other led to the bar.
I could already hear the voices, laughter, and glasses clinking. Blue’s voice rose above it all like a melody. She really did love this place. It was home to her, and now it was hers. Getting rid of Jeff and banning the Murphy brothers gave her peace. Safety.
But for me?
Harmony Haven was anything but safe. I may have been born here, but it was also where the worst parts of me were carved out. It was where everything went black.
I felt that darkness pressing against me again, clawing at my chest, trying to drown the light Blue had turned on just moments ago.
I had two choices.
I could walk out that back door and pretend none of this ever happened.
Or, I could walk into that bar… and pretend I still had a soul.
Chapter Nineteen
BLUE
“I absolutely cannot believeyou’re married to Mr. Moneybags,” Tuffy whispered as we served drinks to two out-of-towners who were more interested in each other than in the bourbon I was handing over.
“It’s like I said,” I replied, flashing a quick smile. “We had a crazy moment and just did it. But that doesn’t mean we’re blissed out in holy matrimony. We still have to, like… learn each other’s middle names.”
“It’s like one of those reality shows. I watch them all the time. But they usually wait, ninety days or something. You two just put the cart before the horse. The poor horse is somewhere lost in a field.”
“Something like that,” I laughed as she walked down to grab another order.
I glanced toward the end of the bar, wondering if West had chickened out. He’d said he’d join me behind the bar, but it had been at least fifteen minutes since I left him in the office. And for a guy who could cut billion-dollar deals before breakfast, the thought of working behind a dive bar in his hometown seemed to rattle him.
I was about to go check when he finally appeared, looking more relaxed than I expected, but only on the surface. The sleeves of his borrowed shirt were rolled up over his forearms, and he walked with that casual sort of confidence people only get after years of knowing they’re the smartest guy in the room. But his eyes were still too tight. Still scanning. Still braced.
Then he saw me. And just like that, something shifted in his whole body. The tension in his shoulders dropped. His mouth curved into this slow, crooked grin that hit me somewhere between my stomach and my knees.
He nodded toward the patrons at the bar as he got close enough to speak. “What side do you want me to take?”
Laughing, I threw my head back and shook it. “I’m not gonna toss you in the deep end alone. You can barback for me. Help out.”
“Whatever you want,” he said with a wink, brushing past me and heading straight for Tuffy. “Good to finally officially meet you,” he said smoothly. Tuffy stared at him, slack-jawed, probably wondering how she’d ended up slinging beers next to a man who looked like he belonged on the cover of Forbes.
“N-nice to meet you too, Mr. Brooks,” she stammered.
“Call me West,” he said.
From that point on, things moved fast. Orders came in quicker than we could fill them. Mostly from women who definitely didn’t frequent Fiddlers, but had somehow gotten word that the town’s most eligible billionaire was behind the bar. I wasn’t gonna lie, it was tempting to lean across the counter and flash my ring. Maybe with a little smile and a “hands off, ladies, he’s taken.” But that would’ve stirred up more trouble than it was worth.
So I kept my cool, slapped on a smile, and took the next round.
Three women at the end of the bar all wanted something different and complicated, so I lined up the glasses and reached for the tequila, but West already had it in his hands, twirling it like a damn baton.
“I got it,” he said casually.
