Page 89 of Second Chance Saloon

Jackie inhaled with a stutter, her gaze flicking to a young woman who, while pretending to sway to the music on the makeshift dance floor, had her phone out and pointing at Mitch and an older man next to him.

Rea was right, but she couldn’t stand back and do nothing. The way his head bounced on his shoulders gave a good indication that he definitely had way too much to drink …

Slowly, she took in the rest of the crowd, pausing on everyone briefly to check how many people were videoing or taking photos. Fortunately, it seemed like the tall, young woman was the only camera-happy one.

“Can you take her aside, please? Say that she won a surprise prize for whatever reason. Offer her a complimentary massage or something,” she said to Rea.

Rea nodded with a smirk. “With pleasure.”

She walked up to the woman, but Jackie didn’t stick around to eavesdrop or see if her plan worked. Her feet found their way straight to Mitch’s side, as if on their own accord.

The older man had gotten up and wandered off seconds before she got there.

“Who’s your friend, Mitch?” She tried to sound nonchalant.

A quick glance at his pinked-up cheeks, glassy eyes and ruffled hair told her he probably hadn’t even noticed the attention he’d attracted. He looked quite drunk, but suspiciously cheerful, which was an improvement on his mood earlier in the day.

Her voice must’ve registered after some delay, as it took him a few seconds to turn to her. Their eyes met briefly, and his lips instantly widened in a smile. “Jackie! You should have a drink.” He offered her the full shot of tequila.

She eyed the glass. Tequila wasn’t a bad idea but she wanted to get Mitch to his room, out of the prying eyes of the public. “I’m good, thanks.”

His smile fell. “You don’t like tequila anymore?” he slurred as he tried to rest his head on his hand, propped up on the bar, but missed completely and almost smashed his forehead on the countertop instead. “Or maybe you want a Long Island Iced Tea?”

Jackie put her arm around him to steady him. “Not tonight. How much did you have to drink?”

He looked at her with confusion, like he was trying hard to concentrate. “A few.” He held up his right hand, splaying his fingers in the air. “One … two … No, more like five.” He dropped his hand with a deep sigh. “I don’t know. Quite a bit.”

She chuckled, unable to help herself. Damn, she’d forgotten what a pathetically cute drunk he made. “You think you’ve had enough?”

Mitch put his head on her shoulder and closed his eyes. “Alcohol? Yes. You? Never.” He nuzzled into her bare skin, inhaling deeply. “You still use the same perfume,” he mumbled, so softly that no one apart from Jackie could hear him. “My pillow smelled of it when you left. I didn’t wash it for months. It was gross, I know. But I couldn’t, not while it smelled like you.”

Jackie swallowed thickly, willing her heart to stop its theatrical acrobatics. It was the alcohol talking.

Lie to yourself, go ahead. You know he’s always been honest after alcohol, a voice in her head mocked.

“Come on, cowboy. Let’s get you back to your room. I’ll make you a coffee and get some water into you.”

Mitch brightened up, raising his head and grinning at her. “You’re going to come to my room?”

Jackie bit back a smile. “Only to make sure you get there and don’t stumble into any other room.”

He snorted, looking at the still full shot of tequila longingly. “I wouldn’t do that.”

“No?”

He looked into her eyes and, just like that, any trace of amusement vanished, his sudden seriousness thickening the air between them. “I wouldn’t look for anything if you were with me.”

The muscles in her legs twitched, her knees bending under the effect his words had on her, drunk or not. Somehow, she knew he wasn’t kidding. It wasn’t all tequila either. Looking into his eyes, all she saw was raw longing.

She wasn’t sure she could handle that.

“Stop it, Mitch.” Her words were pleading but her tone echoed with more.

He stepped closer, angling his face so that their cheeks brushed. His hot tequila-infused breath raised tiny hairs on her back. “I can’t.”

A bubble of air stuck in her lungs, and she momentarily forgot how to breathe. “You’re drunk.”

He let out a low laugh. “True. But you know me. I’m not that drunk.” His tongue slowly ran over his lips and Jackie traced the movement, captivated. “I’d say strongly tipsy. Like, very strongly tipsy.” His head slipped back on her shoulder. “Oh fuck! I forgot to check on Lina and Gus. I told Bruno that I’d come back again today. Fuck, what kind of shitty vet am I …”