Remember Me Always: A Contemporary Romance (13 page)

Groanin', I rake my fingers through my hair and push it away from my face.  I sit down at one of the bar stools and tilt my head back to look up at the ceilin'.  Penny is upstairs.  Probably peelin' her curvy, petite body out of that little black dress.  I groan again and close my eyes.  I almost stopped her from even goin' on her date when I saw what she was wearin'.  She had no idea I was watchin' her from inside the bar.  The moment I saw Tucker rollin' up, I couldn't tear my eyes away.  I sat.  And I waited.  And I watched.  And then after they left, I waited until they came back.  I even programmed her cell phone number, which I found on her application, into my phone.

I'm clearly delusional.

Maybe I'm havin' another mental breakdown.  I cracked after my brother died.  Everyone told me the car wreck was an accident, not my fault, but I felt and still feel the exact opposite.  As far as I'm concerned, he would still be alive if it wasn't for me. 
I killed Connor.
  I might not have wrapped my hands around his throat or put a knife in his chest, but it was my fault that I couldn't pull him out of the car in time.  He drowned in the bottom of that lake, and I just couldn't hold my breath long enough to save him.  The gash in my head had been bleedin' profusely, and even regular breathin' was a chore at that point.  I couldn't get him out of his seat belt.  And just when I finally clicked the button, I was strugglin' to breath.  I remember the water fillin' my lungs and strugglin' to the surface.  I left Connor behind.  I left him to die.

The guy, who just happened to be drivin' by, saved my life.  He managed to get the water out of my lungs and perform CPR until the paramedics got there.  He brought me back to life because I know for sure I was a goner.  But what he didn't know was that my little brother was on the bottom of that lake.  And I wasn't coherent enough to tell him.  I couldn't even tell the paramedics.  It wasn't until hours later that they found Connor's body.  My little brother.  Dead.  On the bottom of a lake.

It's hard for me to imagine all of the things he'll miss out on life.  I'll never see him graduate from high school.  I'll never see him get married or have kids.  I'll never be the uncle that gets to spoil my nieces and nephews rotten.  I'll never see him grow old.  Connor's frozen in time as a fifteen-year-old boy.  Never growin' up.  Never gettin' to experience life.

And it's all my fault.

If only we had stayed home.  If only that drunk driver wouldn't have been on the road.  There are so many different scenarios that play out in my head over and over again, but they all have the same result.  Connor's dead, and there's nothing I can do to bring him back.  He's never comin' back.

Growlin', I reach for a highball glass and pour two fingers of bourbon.  My dad did his fair share of drinkin' after mom died, but I could never understand why…until now.  He was tryin' to cope with her death.  Alcohol numbs.  Alcohol takes away some of the pain momentarily.  And even a moment's worth of peace is worth it.

"It should have been me, Connor.  It should have been me," I say out loud in the empty bar.  Then I chug back the liquor in one long swallow.

At that moment, my father's words come back to me, as they often do.

"It was an act of nature, an act of God, fate or whatever you want to call it, but your brother died and you didn't.  You lived, Colton.  By some divine intervention, you survived.  But you're not living, son.  You're just coasting by without worrying about anything or anyone around you."  He takes a couple of deep breaths.  "I'm dying, Colt.  There's nothing I can do about that.  But you, you didn't die in that car that night even if you feel like you did.  You are here.  You can go on with your life.  And, damn it, I want you to live!"

I reach for the bottle of bourbon and refill my glass.  I shoot it back my throat and slam the glass down on the bar top.  Then I pour myself another and another and another until I can't feel anything anymore.  And that's exactly how I want my life to be --- numb and void of pain.

CHAPTER 10

PENNY

IT'S SUNDAY AFTERNOON when I walk into the bar for my shift.  "How was your date last night?" Buddy asks from behind the counter while waggling his eyebrows.

I roll my eyes and duck under the pass-through.  "It was fine."

"Just fine?  So…he has a small one?" Buddy asks while holding up his pinky finger.  He lets his finger drop and dangle as if it's limp, and I giggle.

"We didn't get that far."

"Oh," he says with a sheepish grin.  "Sure, you didn't," he says, sarcastically, sounding unconvinced.

"It was the first date I've had since I dated Colton.  Did you think I was going to just jump his bones?"

My words shock him, but he quickly recovers.  "Wow.  You must be super horny by now.  I wouldn't have blamed you for jumpin' his bones on the first date."

I throw a dishcloth at his head, and he laughs.  I smile too because Buddy's personality is simply contagious.  We spend the next fifteen minutes getting the bar ready to open.  A few stragglers come in, and one asks Buddy if he can order food.  "Sorry, man.  We don't serve food anymore."

I spy an old, dusty menu from under the counter.  My eyes quickly scan the list of items on the laminated piece of paper.  Everything seems to be pretty simple.  And that gives me an idea.  "When was the last time you made any food in here anyway?"

"Months ago," Buddy says.  "We're still licensed, but haven't hired a cook since Sheila left."

My eyes dart from the menu and then to Buddy.

"What are you thinkin' about, Penny?  You've got that crazy look in your eyes."

I grin from ear to ear and ask, "How about I do some cooking for you tonight?  Can you handle the bar by yourself?"

"You even have to ask?" he asks, pretending to be offended by my question.  "Can you handle the kitchen by yourself?"

"You even have to ask?" I retort, mimicking him.

He smirks.  "Fine.  But you've got your work cut out for you.  The kitchen isn't exactly in order.  And, like I told you before, the oven is broke, but the burners on the stove and the deep fryer should still work."

I go through the doorway leading to the back room and flip on some lights.  The kitchen is in complete disarray, so I set out rearranging and preparing, thankful for the distraction.  This is exactly what I need right now.  A huge distraction from a certain someone.

After an hour of busting my ass cleaning, mopping, doing dishes and rearranging spices and ingredients, I walk up to Buddy and hold out a long list.

He looks at my paper warily.  "What's this?"

"A grocery list," I say with a grin.  "You're going shopping."

*  *  *  *  *

"OOH WEE!" BUDDY calls out as he runs into the kitchen.  "I have five more orders for you, Penny.  Think you can handle any more?"

I dab a small towel over my sweat-soaked forehead and give him a nod.  I think I've bitten off way more than I can chew, but the bar is making money hand over fist, and I am completely distracted from all the wrongs in my life at the moment.  So I guess I shouldn't complain too much.

Buddy places more orders down on the counter.  "I called Colt to come help tend bar.  So if you get overwhelmed, I should be able to help you in the kitchen," he says before walking back out to the front.

My heart sinks, but I try to just brush it off.  I never know what kind of mood Colt will be in, but I try to hope for the best.  I haven't seen him since he stormed into the bar last night after my date with Tucker.  I know he was upset, but I'm sure he'll just pretend that he wasn't.

Sighing, I get to work on two more chicken wing orders.  I throw a few baskets down into the deep fryer and then return to the grill to flip a few burgers.  I'm glad I had enough sense to only put burgers, fries and wings on the menu tonight.  Otherwise, I don't think I would have been able to keep up.

A few minutes later I hear Colton's voice from the front of the bar.  Soon after, Buddy walks through the door again saying, "Tell me what I can do."

I motion to the deep fryer.  "Those baskets of fries are almost done.  Pull them up when the timer goes off.  I'll make these burgers, and then we can throw some of these meals together and get them out."

We work well as a team, and Buddy divides his time between helping me in the kitchen and helping Colton serve drinks.  I've never seen the bar so busy, and it seems like more and more people keep coming in.  Word of mouth travels fast in a small town, and crispy-fried comfort food is always sure to draw in the masses.

I make sure to put a little extra salt in the food.  I learned a tip in culinary school that salt makes you thirsty, so I'm sure they are selling a hell of a lot of beer out there.  I smile as I realize that with my baked goods and cooking I can really help Buddy and Colton save this bar.  It feels so good to help out two of the most important people in my life…even if only one will truly appreciate my efforts.

The night winds down gradually.  After the last person leaves, Buddy locks the front door and sighs with relief.  As Buddy and Colt focus on the front of the bar, I focus on cleaning up the kitchen and making sure everything is good to go for the next shift.  I have another grocery list ready to go since we pretty much sold out of everything Buddy had picked up earlier.

As I'm wiping down the countertops, I feel a pair of arms bear hug me and whirl me around the room.  "Penny, you're amazing!" Buddy announces.  He sets me down and turns me to face him.  "I could just kiss you right now!"

I hold up my finger in protest.  "But you won't."

He chuckles and shakes his head.  "You are savin' this bar, Penny.  I don't know what we would do without you."

My eyes flicker to movement in the doorway, and I see Colton leaning against the frame.  I don't expect him to praise me, and he doesn't.  I turn my attention back to Buddy and say, "I'm just going to finish cleaning, and then I'm going to get some much needed sleep."  I'm exhausted, and my feet are hurting like hell.  But all in all, it was a great night.

"Sounds good.  I'll go close out the register," he says with an enthusiasm that makes me smile.

Buddy walks past Colton, and I set out to scrub the prep area.  After a few moments, I forget Colton is even there until he says my name.  My dish rag stops mid circle, but I don't look up.  I can tell he's pissed off at me again, and I don't even want to guess as to why this time.  "You don't have to thank me, Colt."

"I wasn't goin' to thank you."

I glare up at him.  He's standing there with one leg crossed over the other, leaning against the doorjamb.  He looks cocky and hot as hell, but it just makes me even madder.  "Well, I didn't do it for you anyway.  I did it for Buddy."  I don't know why the hell he has to keep making my head spin with all of his mood swings.  It's annoying as hell and makes me madder than heck.

He uncrosses his legs and comes barreling over to me.  "Yeah?  Well, I didn't even want you workin' here in the first place."

We're back to this again?
I think to myself.  Colton's seething with anger, and it worries me.  He's so quick to get mad with me, but I pretend not to be bothered.  "Well, Colt, I'm here, and there's nothing you can do about it.  Buddy owns part of the bar, and he hired me.  Only he can fire me."

"Oh, that's what you think?"

I turn to him, glaring.  "That's what I know."

A growl escapes his lips.  "You are so damn infuriating!" he yells, throwing his hands up in the air in frustration.  "My life was so much simpler before you came crashin' into it!"

His words shock me and hurt me all at the same time.  "Well, I'm sorry I am such an inconvenience to you, Colton James."  I turn away from him, my entire body trembling.  I want to hit something.  I want to scream.  But instead, I grab the dishrag and clean as fast as I can.  I just want to get the hell out of here.

Colton never moves.  He just stands there rooted to the floor, watching me as I fight back tears.  But I refuse to cry in front of him.  He doesn't deserve even one more tear from me.  The Colton I knew would never say such hurtful things to me.  And even if he did, he would apologize right away and pull me into his arms and kiss it better.  He was so loving, and it was almost painful to see how much he loved me.  We had the kind of love that people read about in romance novels or see in the movies.  It was a once-in-a-lifetime kind of love, and I'm devastated that I no longer have that in my possession and the fact that I probably never will again.

Sniffling, I finish up and rush out of the bar through the back entrance.  I don't stop running until I'm safe in my apartment.  I slam the door shut and push my back against it.  "I hate him!" I scream.

I gasp at what impulsively came out of my mouth.  The words shock and frighten me.  Do I really hate Colton?  I don't know.  I didn't think it would ever be possible to feel anything for Colton other than immutable love and adoration.

And now…I'm not so sure.

He keeps pushing me away.  And I know that one of these days I won't be there to push back.