Page 92 of Second Chance Saloon

Damn him. Damn her, too, for wanting him so much, it physically hurt.

Mitch groaned, pushing his palms up to cover his face. “Fuck, I’m talking absolute bullshit. I’m sorry. Can’t help it.”

“It’s fine. We can forget everything you said tonight.”

He caught her wrist, bringing her hand to his lips. “What if I don’t want to forget?” He dropped the gentlest kiss over her knuckles.

Jackie sucked in a breath. “Let’s get you out of your pants. But your boxers are staying on,” she warned, as his eyes glinted mischievously.

“Killjoy.”

“Responsible adult, you mean.”

“Fuck responsible,” he murmured, lying back and pulling his pants over his hips. “I’ve been responsible and look where it got me.” The material got stuck halfway down his thighs. “I didn’t mean it like that—”

“No, you’re right.” Jackie bent over, rolled the pants off. “Replaying your youth with your college girlfriend when you were meant to be married. Instead of loving every moment of your honeymoon and starting a family, you’re dodging paparazzi. Who would want that?”

Mitch reached for her hand, again. His eyes were full of so many unsaid things that their weight crushed her chest. “Come here.”

She took a step back, shaking her head once. “You know I’m right. I’m damaged goods. No one deserves that.”

But this time, she didn’t withdraw her hand.

In a single heartbeat, he was off the bed and standing right in front of her. The heat coming off his body was as intoxicating as his almost naked form itself. Or was it the tequila fumes?

Either way, her knees got wobbly, dizziness washing over her.

“Never say that in my presence again.” A muscle in his jaw ticked as his finger moved achingly slowly down her cheek. “You’re not damaged and it’s the world that doesn’t deserve you, not the other way round.”

Her lip trembled and she blew a breath against the pad of his finger. She should’ve said something, yet words failed her.

“Don’t ever forget that, Jackie.”

She opened her mouth, wanting to reply, but instead gasped when his lips touched hers. It wasn’t like the hungry, passionate kiss they’d shared earlier.

No, this kiss was all the longing and yearning meeting halfway.

Unhurried. Unfiltered. Unconditional.

A content moan escaped her throat, as she melted into his arms.

He was surprisingly steady for someone who had drunk so much tequila.

It seemed like she was the unsteady one.

Mitch broke the kiss first. Their noses touched, and he whispered: “I lied earlier. I couldn’t do one night for old times’ sake with you. But you know that. Surely, you must.” Both of his hands cupped her cheeks, a sad smile creeping over his lips. “If you cut out my heart right here, right now, it’s your name you’d find etched in there.”

The sigh that tumbled out of her was equal measures heartache and want. “Mitch …”

He shook his head, once, before it hit the pillow, as he got into bed, stretching on top of the comforter. “Don’t say anything. I might not remember any of it tomorrow. But right now, right here, I wanted you to know. For what it’s worth … It’s always been you.”

He closed his eyes, his chest rising and falling evenly. The mix of moonlight and mood light caught the silver jagged trail of the scar on his thigh.

“It’s worth everything,” Jackie whispered, unsure if he could hear her as his expression remained relaxed, like he was drifting off to sleep already.

She perched on the side of the bed, her fingers tracing the contour of his scar. It looked fully healed but not in the best way.

“I hate it because it’s so ugly. It reminds me of what a massive idiot I was. But I also wouldn’t want not to have it. Because it reminds me of you,” Mitch said in a low voice.