The guys on the other side of the table let out another cheer like it was some sort of revolutionary declaration and I chuckled. Jesse reached out an arm to me and I sat down in the booth, sliding closer to him but also trying to keep my distance. I didn’t want to be too forward, to push him at all. But that seemed to be the last thing on his mind. As soon as I was within a few inches of him, he reached around my hip and yanked me closer. The heat of his body beside me made my belly tremble and my heart beat a little faster.
The waitress walked up to the table and we ordered a couple of nearly everything on the appetizer menu. As she was walking away, the sound of a microphone screeching brought shouts of condemnation from everybody packed into the bar. We looked up at the tiny stage built up into the corner at the back of the bar.
Robby stood clutching the microphone, cringing at the sound of the feedback. “How’s everybody doing tonight?” he finally asked into it when the microphone stopped crackling and squealing, and the bar quieted a bit.
The bar erupted in shouts as everybody celebrated that it was Friday night. That sound always made me grin. It was the same exact thing that happened every Friday night like clockwork. Somebody could record Robbie having that exact exchange with people in the bar and play it in a continuous loop, and it would be just like watching it happen week after week. But that was part of the charm of coming here. I knew what to expect and enjoyed every second of it.
“We are going to go ahead and get the singing started. As always, first is our beloved bartender Christina. Come on up here, girl, and give it to us.”
He held out the microphone to the woman who came around from behind the bar and hopped up on the stage to take it from him. She settled it back into the stand and looked out over her attentive audience. She always got the karaoke going on Friday nights. I often questioned the intention of having her take to the stage first. Her voice was incredible, and it definitely stirred up the audience, but it also made the people who followed her sound abysmal in contrast. There were the few good voices that stood out against the others, but for the most part, it was a classic karaoke bar. A whole lot of alcohol and bravado created far more confidence than these people should have before getting up in front of people and belting one out. But maybe that was part of the appeal.
Actually, there was no maybe about it. That was definitely part of the appeal. There was something bonding about a bunch of people making fools of themselves in good company. Having Christina up first guaranteed there would be at least one decent song sung that night and also acted to kind of push along the fun since everybody else sounded all the worse in comparison.
Nearly everyone.
I was known to get up there every so often and sing with the voice I got from my mama. But not tonight. Being here tonight was all about Jesse. I didn’t want to leave his side even for a second.
Nobody ever knew for sure what was going to come out of Christina. She had a collection of songs she chose from each week, but it was anybody’s guess which one she was going to go with. What she chose often set the tone for the whole night.
That night, she went for one of her loudest and most powerful options, revving up the energy in the bar until it felt like the air around us was buzzing. I couldn’t help but wiggle and dance in the booth and I glanced over to see Jesse grinning at me.
“What?” I asked.
He shook his head. “Nothing,” he said. “Just watching you.”
The waitress came back up to the table with two others behind her. She filled the space in front of us with platters of every type of fried bar food imaginable, then added a stack of plates at the edge.
“Can I get you anything else?” she asked.
Sara ordered a pitcher of beer and the waitress nodded before disappearing off behind the bar again.
“This looks amazing,” I said, trying to decide which of the nuggets of gold and brown deliciousness I was going to dig into first.
“Yes, it does,” Jesse agreed. “You know how long it’s been since I’ve been able to sit down to something like this?”
I snagged a French fry and bit into it as I looked over at him.
“I’m guessing there weren’t a whole lot of karaoke-night opportunities while you were overseas?” I asked.
“Not too many,” he said, reaching out and taking one of the onion rings from the basket directly in front of him. As he tossed it into his mouth, he made a slight groaning sound that both made me laugh and turned me on.
“Good?” I asked.
He held another ring up to my mouth so I could take a bite. My heart jumped a little bit and I kept my eyes locked on his as I took the bite. We spent the next half an hour sampling all the food and feeding each other from the platters and baskets. There was a strange stretch of sappy love songs and badly butchered 80’s power ballads while we ate, but finally, Robbie decided to put the karaoke out of its misery for a few minutes with a dance break. As the first song built up, I started wiggling and bouncing in the seat again.
Jesse chuckled and I looked over at him.
“What?” I asked again.
“Is this a new thing of yours?” he asked, staring at me. “A new trend I missed while I was gone?”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“Booth dancing?” he asked. “Now, I know I’m not hip and happening and up on all the things the young folk do, but is this one of the ones I should know about if I’m going to fit in?”
I had to laugh at him. There was still a slight stiffness behind his joking words, but the harshness I’d noticed in him was definitely lessened and seemed to be cracking more with every minute.
“Oh, definitely,” I teased back. “It’s only the newest thing. Everybody who’s everybody does booth dancing.”
“That’s too bad,” he said. “I don’t know how to do any of that. But I was going to ask you to get up and dance with me for real.”
“Really?” I asked.
He offered me his hand and nodded. I slid out of the booth and Jesse spun me around in a dramatic twirl before leading me out onto the dance floor. He pulled me close and we danced as wild and unchained as we always used to.
The first song was just spent dancing randomly among the others who flooded the dance floor as soon as the music turned on. But it soon switched over to a line dance and everybody instantly moved into formation. It was one of those dances that nobody could tell you where or how they learned it, but somehow, everybody knew it. Jesse danced along beside me, sometimes dropping his head back to let out a laugh. It felt so good to hear him laugh the way he used to. Like he didn’t have a care in the world.
As that song ended, Jesse took my hand and pulled me into him again. He held me close, not caring what song turned on next or if there were specific moves expected of us for it. I could barely even tell what the song was. All that mattered to me was being in Jesse’s arms.
His body felt warm and familiar against mine, even while seeming so much bigger and stronger. I wanted to melt into it and not ever have to let it go. After another song, the karaoke started up again, but Jesse and I didn’t go back to the booth. Neither one of us wanted to sit down. Fortunately, the next singer chose an energetic song that let us keep right on dancing. There were people all around us, crushing in close, then moving away, then crushing in again, but we didn’t care. To me, Jesse and I were the only ones out there.
Jesse suddenly grabbed hold of my hand to push me out away from him in a silly, dramatic ballroom move, then spun me back so he held me up against him with my back pressed to his chest and belly. His face brushed through my hair before his mouth settled close to my ear, sending a chill along my skin.
“I never thought I would be lucky enough to do this again,” he whispered.
I grinned as he spun me out again, then brought me in to wrap his arms around me. The upbeat song faded down into something much slower, and Jesse cradled me up against him. I rested my cheek on his shoulder and let out a sigh. I could stay here,
just right here like this, forever, and I’d be happy.
Truth be told, I didn’t think I’d get this lucky, either.
Jesse was my one shot, my chance at love and happiness. When he left, that all went with him and I never thought I’d get the chance to have it again. But now, here he was.
I could feel Jesse’s heart beating through his chest, pounding against mine. At first, I thought it was from the dancing, but then I realized it was beating even harder as we slowed down. I lifted my head to look at him and found him gazing down at me. A tender smile tilted his lips and he leaned down to touch them against mine in a slow, longing kiss.
If I could pretend he and I were the only people in the bar before, that was all gone now as cheers rose up around us. Friends and townsfolk who all knew us and the history we shared since our story first began whooped and hollered, egging us on. I felt Jesse smiling against my lips.
Maybe it was all in my head. Maybe he still was the same Jesse he used to be.
Maybe he was still mine.
His mouth left mine but went back to my ear. He kissed the soft spot beneath my ear, then nuzzled the side of my neck. “You smell like coconut sunscreen,” he whispered. “Like you always used to.”
His breath against my skin made something unfurl inside me. Something hot and needy and desperate.
Chapter 19
Jesse
Nine years ago…
I tucked my nose down into the curve of Shannon’s neck and breathed in the smell of her skin. She smelled like coconut sunscreen, a smell I would always associate with her. Any time I was out, no matter where I was or who I was with, and I got a whiff of coconut sunscreen, Shannon was the first thing that popped into my mind.
Not that it was all that often I was anywhere without her. I didn’t want to be. When I was with her was when I was happiest, when I felt safest and most at ease. It was never enough. That was why when The Junction closed down for the night, we weren’t ready for the night to be over.
Technically, our night shouldn’t have started there to begin with. We were only twenty, but the bar didn’t check ID and didn’t care about us being underage. As long as we didn’t drink while we were there and didn’t cause any trouble, they had no problem with us coming in and hanging out for the evening.
The owners of the bar were known to bring their children in when they were little, and at least a few times each month, the back storeroom became a campout spot for the children of single parents who worked there and couldn’t get sitters. They would sit back there coloring or reading until their parents ducked in during a break to tuck them into their sleeping bags, sing a quick lullaby, and kiss them goodnight.
But the night always ended too early. It seemed we were just lighting up inside when the bartenders would shout out for last call and the lights would gradually start turning on overhead. I always found that moment hilarious.
That moment of the night created a complete shift in the people at the bar. Only seconds before, they were invested in their night, however they did it, and then the lights came on and it was suddenly the end of the world. Some were draped around on the bar or booth, seeming nearly asleep, but were deeply offended by the intrusion of the light. Others were happy and bouncing, filling up the dance floor, but the light came on, and they went vampiric, hiding away from it like they couldn’t bear it.
Of course, for some of them, I understood. A good handful of the people who frequented The Junction were better suited to dim lighting and a healthy dose of mental lubrication in the form of liquor or heavy beer.
I never had to worry about that. While others tumbled out of the bar to head home or made desperate last bids to not have to make that trip by themselves, I knew I had Shannon on my arm. We rarely left feeling tired or like we were done for the night, and that night was no different.
We left The Junction wanting more of our night, but her dad insisted on her coming home right from the bar. She was grown, not even a teenager anymore, but she was still living at home, which meant she lived by his rules. So she followed them. At least, she did as far as he was concerned.
That night, I brought her home in my pickup and gave her a long goodnight kiss right in front of the house. I couldn’t see him, but it was safe to assume Mr. Dailey was somewhere behind one of those darkened windows, watching out for us.
It took a battle for her to convince him she didn’t need to be home before midnight now that she wasn’t a kid anymore, but relenting to her staying out until the bar closed didn’t sit easily with him. He could barely stand that she went to a bar, even if she didn’t drink while she was there. I had no doubt he was sitting watching, waiting for her to get home, and making sure she was safe when I drove away.
Which I did. Glancing in the rearview mirror showed Shannon standing at the end of the sidewalk waving at me, then heading to the front door of the house and disappearing inside. I would give it half an hour.
I drove around for a while, then found a place to park where I could easily walk back to the Dailey house. When I got into the backyard, the house was quiet and dark, but I didn’t stop. I walked through the grass and up onto the big back porch where I stood and waited for Shannon.
She came out a few minutes later in short cotton shorts and a tank top, her hair knotted up on top of her head and her face clean and freshly washed of the makeup she’d worn. She looked like she was getting ready to climb into bed, but instead, she climbed into my arms.
Kissing her, I nuzzled down into her neck and caught the same sweet coconut smell I breathed in when we were on the dance floor at the bar.
“I wish we didn’t have to leave The Junction,” she said when our lips parted. “We were having so much fun. I don’t understand why they have to close so early.”
“We don’t have to stop dancing,” I told her.
“You know somewhere else we can go?” she asked, her eyes opening a little wider.
“Right here,” I told her. “We have our very own dance floor.” I gestured at the wooden slats of the porch. Then I gestured at the night sky full of stars over our head. “And lights.”
“How about the music?” she asked.
“Should I hum?” I asked.
“You want to dance right here?”
“Why not?”
“It’s three in the morning.”
“All the more reason,” I said. “No one is here to see us. And who else has a dance floor all to themselves?”
She smiled and let me twirl her around. We danced and played across the dance floor of our imagination, transforming her daddy’s back porch into our own private bar. We were high on life, filled with love and passion for each other and the unwavering belief that nothing could touch us. We were invincible. Even when things were at their hardest and we were facing challenges that to some seemed insurmountable, we didn’t falter in that belief.
Things might get tough and we might go through things that were difficult and painful, but in the end, we would always make it through. We’d come out the other end stronger, better prepared, and, most importantly, together.
Even late into the night, it was warm and muggy outside, and soon, we were breathing hard and sweating. I took Shannon’s hand and led her down off the porch into the grass. We ran away from the porch and deeper into her land so we could escape being seen if her father happened to wake up and glance outside. When we were several yards away, we stopped and dropped down into the cool grass. Collapsing onto our backs, we smiled and gazed up at the starry night sky.
I was happy there in the silence beside Shannon, but I could feel she wanted to say something. I reached for her hand between us.
“What are you thinking about?” I asked.
“There have just been a few things tumbling around in my head,” she admitted.
“Tell me,” I said.
“Where do you want to go?” she asked.
“Go?” I asked. “Are we going somewhere?”
“I mean if we were. If you co
uld go anywhere, leave Green Valley, where would you go?”
“Why do you want to know that?” I asked.
“Asking the question excites me. Putting it into words and saying it out loud means it’s a possibility. I never really let myself think about it, but now I think about it all the time.”
I shrugged. “I don’t know.”
Shannon seemed shocked by the answer. She rolled over onto her side and propped herself up on her elbow, her head rested in her palm, so she could look down into my face. “How is that possible?” she asked, sounding genuinely stunned and even a bit saddened by the answer.
I looked over at her and saw her wide eyes searching mine, filled with both questions and hope. There were dreams in those eyes, a type of longing I’d never seen in anyone else. It was like there was so much inside her, more than she could possibly ever feel or do or fulfill. Shannon grew up in a world where most people knew who they were and all they would ever do from the moment they were born. There was nothing wrong with that. I believed strongly in tradition and roots. People like that kept the world turning. But there was something else in Shannon and she wanted me to go along with her.
Only, I didn’t have that same drive that she did. There wasn’t a need inside me to search out something else. I didn’t need to go out into the world and discover more. If I found it, I’d be happy to experience it, but I didn’t feel empty without it.
I chuckled at the deeply serious look on her face and stroked hair away from her eye, tucking it behind her ear. “I suppose the place doesn’t matter to me,” I told her.
She tilted her head and dropped one finger to my chest, tracing figure eight patterns through my shirt.
“Okay,” she said, drawing out the word like those two syllables held more thoughts and meaning than just an acknowledgement. “What does matter to you, then?”
I lifted my head and pressed my lips to hers in a sweet kiss. “Who I’m with.”
She giggled and tucked her face down against my chest. The sound warmed my heart and I couldn’t help but laugh when she lifted her face again and rolled her eyes at me with a broad grin.
His Reckless Heart (The Montgomery Boys Book 1) Page 11
