There was silence on the other end, and for a second I’d hoped he’d hung up on me.
“How much have you had to drink?” he asked.
I held the phone up to my face and screamed into it.
I heard the scrape of chairs, and moments later Lucian and Nash were standing in the mouth of the hallway. I held up a finger to keep them at bay. “I suggest you lose this number because if you call me again I won’t make Waylay give your dog back.”
“Naomi—”
I hung up and stuffed the phone into my pocket. “Can one of you give me a ride home? I have a headache.”
But it was nothing compared to the ache in my chest.
FORTY-FIVE
THE BAR FIGHT
Knox
I blew into Honky Tonk under a full head of steam. I hadn’t slept last night. Not after that phone call with Naomi. The woman was a stubborn nightmare. She didn’t care that I was trying to do what was best for her. She didn’t want to see it from my perspective. Quitting a good job just because she got her feelings hurt was a stupid fucking reason to turn her back on cash.
And I was going to tell her that.
Instead of the usual greetings from the kitchen staff I got a couple of furtive glances, and suddenly everyone was too busy with what they were doing to even acknowledge me.
Everyone needed to get their heads out of their asses and get over it.
I pushed through the doors into the bar and found Naomi leaning over a table in the corner, laughing at something her mom was saying. Lou and Amanda were there for the drinks portion of their weekly date night.
I knew it had nothing to do with supporting my business and everything to do with showing their support for their daughter.
The rest of her section was already full. Because she drew people to her.
Knockemout had welcomed her just as it had me and my brother all those years ago. If she thought she was going to leave me behind, she was about to be disappointed.
A long, denim-clad leg kicked out in front of me, blocking my path. “Whoa, cowboy. You look like you’re about to murder someone.”
“I don’t have time for games, Lina,” I told her.
“Then stop playing them.”
“I’m not the one playing. I fucking told her just like I told you how it was going to go. It went the way I said. She’s got no right to be pissed at me.”
“You ever think about telling her the real reason why you are the way you are?” she asked, lifting a glass of what I had a feeling was my private stock of bourbon.
“What are you talking about?” I asked evenly.
She rolled her neck like she was warming up for a fight. “Listen, Knox. Women have this sixth sense when we’re being served up half-truths.”
“You got a point?”
Naomi left her table with a little wave and was headed to the next one, a four-top full of bikers.
“She knows there’s more to it than what you’re sharing. I knew it. And I’d be willing to bet every woman in between knew it too. We’re suckers for a wounded man. We think we can be the one you’ll let in. The one who’ll magically fix you with our love.”
“Come on, Lina.”
“I’m serious. But you just keep pushing all of us away. And I think that’s because you don’t want to acknowledge your truth.”
“You sound like a fucking TV therapist.”
“Bottom line, my friend. Naomi deserves your truth. Even if it’s ugly. She’s not going to forgive you and ‘get over it,’ as you so eloquently put it, unless you’re straight with her. I think you owe it to her.”
“I really don’t like you right now,” I told her.
She grinned. “And I don’t really care.” She polished off her drink and set the empty on the bar. “I’ll see you later. Try not to fuck it up even more.”
It was with those words ringing in my ears that I rounded the bar and caught Naomi at the POS.
She hadn’t seen me yet. So I stood there looking my fill, my body tense with the need to touch her. Her face was flushed. Her hair was styled in sexy waves. She was back in one of those damn jean skirts. This one looked new and even shorter than the others. She wore cowboy boots and a long-sleeved Honky Tonk V-neck. She looked like every man’s fantasy.
She looked like my fantasy.
“Need to talk to you,” I said.
She jolted when I spoke, then looked me up and down before turning away.
I grabbed her arm. “That’s not a request.”
“In case you haven’t noticed, I have seven tables, boss. I’m busy. It’s my last night. There’s nothing that needs to be said.”