Where My Heart Breaks (4 page)

I entered the bar and felt a mild pang of nostalgia. Between the smoky air, the row of pool tables, and the sticky floor it looked exactly like half a dozen bars on the edge of campus that I used to frequent with Trevor. I immediately felt at home, and my confidence bolstered despite the fact that I could tell I was being watched. As I made my way toward the bar on the far side of the room, I saw a stage and an open space for a dance floor at the back of the large room. Lula’s seemed to have it all.

An older woman manned the bar and didn’t disguise that fact that she studied me as I approached. I could tell that she was taking stock of my clothes and my face and sizing me up. I ponied up to the bar and dropped my clutch in front of me.
 

“What can I get for you?” she asked. I could see the edge of a tattoo curled around her neck. Her white hair was cropped short against her skull and contrasted starkly with her black t-shirt and dark denim jeans. There didn’t appear to be an ounce of softness to her anywhere. This could only be Lula.

It was tempting to order a drink out of the gate. My mouth watered for a vodka tonic, but it was still early. I needed to pace myself like a good girl. No need to dive in right away. Dr. Kreger and I had been working quite a bit on self-control. “Diet coke, please. With a lime.”

She arched an eyebrow. “With whiskey?”

Since I felt as if she asked so nicely, my mouth automatically opened to agree. I had to bite my tongue to stop myself. “Just the soda. Thanks.”

Thirty seconds later, a glass slid in front of me. I picked the glass up and brought it to my lips desperately wishing that it had something stronger in it. But, I promised Millie and my parents that I was going to be good. It just wouldn’t do to get trashed my first night in town.

“You ordering food?”
 

“Sure, I’ve got time,” I said. “I’ll take a menu.”

She pointed at a small upright sign next to my purse. “Right there. Give me a holler when you’re ready to order.”

I picked up the menu card and found that it had six choices on it. Apparently, Lula’s wasn’t exactly dealing in fine cuisine. At least they served burgers. I set the sign back down and took another sip of my soda. Now that my eyes had adjusted to the dimness of the bar, I took a minute to study my surroundings.

A group of guys wearing letter jackets were playing pool in the back corner. Three girls played at the adjoining table. There was quite a bit of jostling and joking back and forth between the two groups. A couple of middle-aged guys sat at the other end of the bar. The long faces and large beer glasses seemed to indicate that they were intent on drowning their sorrows. I had been there. A few other scattered pairs throughout the room completed the scene. As far as I could tell, there wasn’t a single guy my age in the place. I had to remind myself that was a good thing. Me and boys and self-control didn’t seem to work well together. Trevor proved that.

“So you are Patrice’s niece?” The bartender reappeared on the other side of the bar and drew me out of my thoughts.
 

“That’s right,” I said. It was a bit disconcerting that I hadn’t been in town for a whole day yet and already people in town knew who I was. I wondered what else they knew about me.

“Spending the summer at the Willoughby. Not a bad gig,” she said.

“I didn’t have any other options.” If I were to rehash that story, I needed something stronger to wash it down. I stuck with the high-level version. “I kind of forgot to apply for summer internships before classes ended.” That was partially accurate. Spring semester I was buried in schoolwork hoping that it would be enough so that I didn’t get kicked out for failing all my classes.
 

“Sounds like it’s time to regroup,” she said.
 

It was funny. For me, sitting at a bar was a form of therapy. I liked Lula better than Dr. Kreger already.

 
“Something like that.”

“I’m Lula, by the way,” she said, confirming my assumption. She held her hand over the bar. “Your aunt got a raw deal. Losing her husband and then getting stuck with that monstrosity. Whatever the reason, it’s good for you to be here for her.”

I shook Lula’s hand and felt strangely better. I was rudderless at the moment, but still doing something worthwhile by helping Patrice. That felt good. But then my eyes strayed over Lula’s shoulder to the bottles of liquor on the shelves on the wall. They were a painful reminder of part of the reason I was in my sticky situation to begin with. I dropped my gaze quickly.

“That’s exactly what my parents thought. Guess I’ll have to pick up that book that everyone raves about. I suppose I’ll get asked a ton of questions about it from the guests.”

“I remember that fellow,” Lula said. She pointed at an empty stool three seats down from me. “He’d come in every afternoon and sit there for hours drinking himself under the bar. I have no idea how he managed to pull all that flowery prose out of his ass. Won all those awards too.”

That made me giggle. “I’m so glad that I don’t have any more English classes, and I managed to avoid the semesters where they read that book. He got a lot of press for it, but I think it’s all so overrated.”

Lula reached underneath the bar and brought out a worn, ratty copy of
Where My Heart Breaks
and placed it in front of me. “Well, if you aren’t drinking and you aren’t eating, you might as well do some research even if this isn’t your cup of tea. Might even impress your aunt.”

I took it slowly and flipped the cover open to find a scrawled message in the inside.

To Lula. May the sun always smile upon your face. I’ll remember our days together fondly. Walter

Now it was my turn to raise my eyebrows.
 

Lula shrugged. “I was young once too, ya know.” She moved back to the other end of the bar.

I had no interest in reading Walter Moolen’s book, but Lula was right. I might as well make use of my idle time. Unfortunately, I didn’t think it was possible to impress anyone in my family at the moment.
 

I flipped to the first page and began to read.

CHAPTER FOUR

After two chapters, I grudgingly admitted that Walter Moolen knew how to string a word or two together. A chapter after that, I was so intent on the story of Jackson and Camilla’s blossoming, but forbidden romance that I failed to notice someone sit down on the stool next to me. That was, until his fingers drummed on the bar top pulling me out of my trance. A snarky comment about interrupting died on my lips as I looked up into Reed Black’s brilliant green eyes.

“Are you sure you aren’t a tourist?” he drawled, observing the title of the open book in my hands. “I forgot to mention that we still get a fair amount of those too. Swooning girls thinking that Jackson Monroe is waiting somewhere around here to sweep them off their feet.”

Given that I had already declared Jackson Monroe my new book boyfriend, I struggled to appear unaffected by the tale. “I’m killing time,” I said with a sniff. I closed the book and slid it into my purse. I made a mental note to ask Lula about borrowing it. “Hey, I heard you were ordering my tire or something. Do you work for Bud?”

“I help Bud out on occasion,” Reed said. He flagged Lula with a raised hand and pointed at the empty bar in front of him.
 

I wrinkled my nose at his arrogance. “You could at least say please.”

Reed glanced at me. “Thank you for the unnecessary lecture in manners.”
 

I bristled as Lula set a glass with honey colored liquor in front of Reed. She looked back and forth between us. “You met Reed then?”

“Unfortunately,” I said, deliberately not looking in his direction. It was silly how a man could make my blood boil with anger and a good dose of lust at the same time. “Has Bud called? I’m hoping he’s going to have time to fix my tire.”

“Bud’s poker game started about ten minutes ago,” Reed said, glancing at his watch. “He won’t be doing any more work tonight.”

“Well that’s just fantastic,” I said sarcastically. This newest development threw a monkey wrench in my plans for the evening. I didn’t relish the idea of calling Patrice and asking her to come pick me up from Lula’s, even if I didn’t have the tiniest sip of alcohol. “How am I supposed to get back to the Willoughby?”

“I’ll give you a lift,” Reed said as he brought the glass to his lips.

“That’s out of your way, Reed,” Lula said, tossing a towel over her shoulder. She looked uncomfortable. “I’ll call out there for you, Kate. I’m sure one of the staff could come get you.”

“I said I’d take her,” Reed said. His glare met Lula’s and I wondered if the bar between them was about to catch fire.

I was annoyed that everyone was making decisions for me without my input and, on top of that, I felt like a chew toy caught between two snarling dogs,
 
“Well, thanks for asking,” I said. “I guess that’ll work.” There was a part of me that was secretly thrilled by the idea of being alone, at night, on a dark stretch of road, with Reed. My imagination kicked into overdrive again.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea, Reed?” Lula asked.

I was right. There was something about the way that Lula looked back and forth between me and Reed that told me she had something on her mind. Since she didn’t know me from Adam, her concern for me could only be coming from something she knew about Reed. If possible, I was more intrigued.

I watched his jaw work, and he appeared to be considering his words. “It’s not a problem, Lula. Why don’t you go see what Bernie’s all anxious about down there?”
 

I saw a short man in cook whites and an apron at the other end of the bar frantically waving his hands trying to get Lula’s attention.

“Dammit, he probably spilled grease all over the back again,” Lula said, turning away. Reed and I were forgotten.

As soon as she was out of earshot, I spun my stool to face Reed. “Why didn’t Bud call me to tell me he was leaving?” I asked.

“I told him I’d tell you,” Reed said, swirling the glass in his hand.

“Would you care to share? I feel like we are playing twenty questions,” I said. I tried not to notice the attractive shape of his inked bicep that was inches from mine. I always liked a guy with muscles. Starting to feel warm as I pictured being pressed against his well-defined chest, I took another sip of my soda to cool off.

“I had to call Bud about something else, and he mentioned he was still waiting for your tire to be delivered. Apparently the poker game started early, and he wanted to get over there. He didn’t want to wait. I told him I’d make sure you got home. End of story,” Reed said.

“Can’t you put the tire on for me?”
 

“Even if I was obliged to do so, I assume your keys are locked in Bud’s office,” Reed said.
 

“Dammit,” I said under my breath.
 
Foiled again.

“Have a drink. Have some dinner. Relax.” Reed looked plenty relaxed for the both of us. “New girl in town. Don’t you want to party it up a little bit?”

Warning bells went off in my head. I wondered again what my aunt was telling everyone about me. My sordid life history was perfect fodder for the gossips in town. “If partying it up means meeting some of the locals while enjoying a diet soda and a burger, then yes.” I wasn’t about to get caught in that trap.

“There’s a band playing tonight if you’re into that kind of thing,” Reed said.
 

As he turned toward me, I felt the swish of his knee brush against the inside of my thigh. Even though two layers of denim separated our skin, I still felt a jolt of electricity rush up my side. A familiar ache was starting to build inside of me.
 

I wondered if it was possible that Reed was hitting on me. I wouldn’t mind that at all. I cleared my throat. “I like some live music. I suppose it’s going to be all country though.”

Reed shrugged. “A little country, a little rock n roll. Little bit of everything to keep the crowd dancing until the wee hours of the morning.”

That totally sounded like my kind of band. However, dancing until the wee hours of the morning would surely put my name on Patrice’s shit list. I knew she had one just like my mother did. “I have to work in the morning,” I said.
 

“I’m only telling you this because if you’re not staying for the band then I’ll need to take you home now as opposed to later,” Reed said.
 

“Are you a groupie or something?”
 

Reed smiled, and I was amazed at how it lit up his face. The dark, brooding stranger started to look like a regular guy. A mouthwateringly hot one nonetheless. “Something like that. Order your burger to go if you want out. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

He had to have known that as he stood up from the stool, his whole body would press against mine. I caught a hint of his aftershave, and it smelled just like I imagined, musky and leathery and all male.
 
The conversation was totally innocuous, and yet I felt my body responding to the predatory manliness that oozed from every pore of the man’s body.
 

My thoughts were a mess, and I didn’t register Lula’s return or her further question. “What?”
 

“I asked if you ready to order?”

“A burger,” I said. At least my mouth was working properly. Then I thought of all the far more interesting things I could do with it if given the right opportunity with Reed and I shivered. It wasn’t fair. I could see him talking to a couple of guys on the other side of the room, and it seemed clear that the affect he had on me wasn’t being reciprocated on his end.

“You going to take that to go?” Lula asked, following my gaze.

“No, I’m staying,” I said. “I heard the band that’s playing tonight was killer.”

Lula shook her head and sighed. Before she moved away, she turned her head. “I may be talking out of turn. Mrs. Black is a good woman, and Lord knows she had her hands full with those boys. But Reed…that boy is trouble with a capital T, Kate. I don’t think your aunt would approve of you spending too much time with him.”