Page 43 of Second Chance Saloon

Honestly, though, had she forgotten anything about those years? Sometimes, he wished he could’ve done just that. Early on after she left, if someone had offered him a chance to scrub up all the memories of her, he’d have blindly agreed to it. A clean slate. A chance at not hurting every time he thought about her. What if he was only preparing himself for more heartbreak, opening his heart again to her? After what Eve did …

His heart seized.

For once, he wanted to be picked instead of being left behind.

His gaze flickered back to Jackie.

Her chest rose and fell, uncertainty glistening in her eyes. She bit the corner of her lip, her shaky hand reaching for a neatly folded napkin over her cutlery. Wrapping her fingers around the fork, she stuck it into the reddish-hued rice overflowing with seafood.

Swallowing down his disappointment as she chose not to take the bait, he shoveled a couple of forkfuls of the lamb into his mouth. The slow-cooked meat melted on his tongue, and he groaned as the spice and smoke reached his taste buds.

Jackie wordlessly rested her fork on the edge of her plate.

Mitch didn’t know what he was hoping to get out of this: the dinner, speaking with her … Closure would be the logical thing. But he wasn’t sure that was what was driving his indiscernible need to be close to her. Confused didn’t even cover the extent of his feelings. Maybe if they spent some time together, talked and caught up on their lives, and she told him why she left … Then, maybe, he could move on with his life.

Echoes of the whispered wishes upon falling stars, forehead kisses and pinky promises rattled in his brain.

Mitch chewed his food, his eyes following her every movement.

Jackie reached for the bottle of wine and poured herself a large glass. Lifting it to her lips, she turned her head to the sea, her wistful features darker than the waves crashing against the shore.

Sighing, he emptied the bottle into his wineglass.

“What’s her name?” Jackie asked, finally, still not looking at him.

He didn’t have to ask who she meant. “Eve.”

She nodded, once. “You said the guy was her client. What does she do?”

“She’s Lionel Webster’s tour manager.” He winced. “You might’ve not heard of him—”

“Are you kidding? I love his music,” Jackie exclaimed, face all lit up. Her smile dropped when she caught his glare. “I mean … He seems like a pompous ass.”

Mitch drained his wine in a single gulp. “He’s a fucking dick.” Glass clinked against the table. “You know what’s the most ironic part? Apparently, he loved her too. Asked her not to marry me, and to be with him instead. The nerve of that guy.”

A bitter laugh rumbled from deep down in his chest. He hadn’t really thought much about Eve since he got to Mexican Jewel, too preoccupied with the shock of seeing Jackie again.

Jackie’s demeanor remained impassive. “Did you love her?”

“I did.” He looked up at her. “I genuinely thought we could spend our lives together.”

Jackie drew in a shaky breath; her eyes still bear into the inky navy sea. “I’m sorry it didn’t work out for you. You deserve to be happy.”

His bruised heart picked up a bittersweet beat, like it recognized the home it had been missing for ten years but knew it could never go back there. So much had changed, but this one thing—him desperately wishing only the best for her—had stayed the same.

“So do you,” he replied reflexively.

Finally, she turned and fixed her gaze on him. There was so much hidden depth in her eyes. He couldn’t decode it. Layers of heartache and regret came up to the front, fogging the secrecy and withdrawal.

Feeling an uncontrollable urge, Mitch’s hand moved up the table, inching further and further up, up, up … Until it reached the tips of her fingers, encasing them.

The restaurant basked in a golden light as their skin made contact. Everything else fell away. Other guests seemed to freeze in their seats, their movements languishing as the chatter died down. It was as if it was just them. Two hearts stuttering to the sweet hum of the sea.

“What are we doing, Mitch?” she whispered, untangling their fingers. But she didn’t move her hand away.

Emotion swelled at the back of his throat. “Getting to know each other again.” Before reason had a chance to regain control, he brought his thumb to her wrist, pressing it into her pulse point. “I don’t really know, to be honest. I never expected to see you again.”

Jackie’s eyes snapped open. Her pulse tapped haphazardly underneath his fingertip. “Mitch from Portland, you’ve always been a poet. Sweet-talking your way out of even the stickiest situations.”