Beth had said almost the same thing to him at least a dozen times. Just as he was about to turn around, he remembered the conversation they’d had about her tip. “Hey, I forgot to ask, how did the batting cages go?”
Everything about Dani’s expression changed, kind of like the light in her eyes had just been turned out. “It went well. I mean it was fine.”
“That’s it? Did Jeremy have a good time?” He didn’t want to prod too much, but he and Gen weren’t going to know how to help her if she didn’t want to confide in him.
Looking over at her son’s closed door, she shrugged. “It was good enough, I think.”
“Did something happen?” He hated playing this game with her, but he didn’t think Dani would be very happy to find out that he and Gen had been talking about her. “Did he get in a fight with the other boys or something?”
“A fight? Oh, no, nothing like that.” Steeling her shoulders, she kind of smiled. “It was … nothing that you need to worry about.”
“Are you sure? I mean, I think we’ve moved beyond just a work relationship, don’t you?”
“We have, Jackson. And … and, well, I thank you for caring, but this isn’t anything I want to discuss right now.”
“You sure?”
“Positive.” Pasting a plastic smile on her face, she said, “Now get on out of here before you’re late.”
He was in no hurry to get out of there now, but she was right. He had to work—and this was her business, not his. The Lord knew that there were plenty of subjects he didn’t willingly share with many people.
Holding up the plate, he smiled. “I’ll put the cookies in our break room. Thanks again.”
“It was nothing. Have a good night.”
After another long look at Dani, wishing that he could solve her problems for her, he walked down the stairs, stopping to grab his backpack, which he’d left outside her door when he’d carried Kate inside.
Less than ten minutes later, he was walking through the back door of the Corner Bar.
Chad, one of the bar’s part-time servers, was in the break room checking his phone. “Hey, Jack.” Just as he was about to turn back to his phone, he eyed the plate of cookies. “You brought in more food?”
“Yeah. My babysitter and Gen are friends. She made the cookies for her. Actually, for all of us.”
Grinning, Chad pulled one off the plate and put half of it in his mouth. “Oh my gosh, this is good. Tell her thanks, would you? It hits the spot.”
“I’ll pass that on to Dani.” He’d never been all that into sweets, but he was starting to think Dani might be slowly changing his mind about that. “I’m gonna set this plate on Gen’s desk then head out,” he said after clocking in. “Anything new around here?”
“Beyond some cowboy sitting at the bar and watching Gen like she was his lifeline? Nope.”
“He’s back?”
“Wait, he was here earlier?”
Irritated now, he put the cookies on her desk, grabbed a clean apron, and walked out into the bar, which was already half-full. Since it wasn’t even six yet, he figured it was going to be a long night.
Gen was working the counter the way she always did, methodically pouring drinks while chatting with one or two customers at the same time. However, it was apparent after a minute of watching that something was seriously off with her. Her smile was a little too bright. Her interest in the customers’ stories a little too forced. She wasn’t near as relaxed as she appeared to be.
He had a pretty good idea why. But just to make sure, Jackson took stock around the room, looking for the person who she was avoiding.
And sure enough, there sat Seth in one of the chairs at the far end of the bar. Dressed in a ball cap and a different shirt, everything else about him looked the same … especially the intense look he was sending Gen’s way.
Jackson knew there were two things he could do. He could remind himself that he had his own problems, all of which were bad enough to keep his focus on himself and not on his boss and her old flame or whatever he was.
Or, he could remind himself that Gen had given him a job bartending when the only experience he’d had in bars was sitting at one and having a beer every now and then.
Hoping he wasn’t just about to get himself into the middle of some lovers’ squabble where he ended up being the loser because he couldn’t mind his own business, he walked to Seth’s side.
“Anything I can help you with?”
Like he was pulling himself away from her, Seth slowly refocused his attention on him. “Yeah. You can leave me alone.”
Jackson wasn’t a fighter. Never had been. But there was a part of him that almost welcomed the excuse to lay one on the guy hard enough to land him on the floor. “Excuse me?”
“I don’t need to repeat myself,” he muttered with a thick drawl. “You heard me.” Seth picked up his beer and took a slow sip, all the while turning his attention back to Gen.
Who, Jackson knew, was now acutely aware of what was going on between the two men.
But because she didn’t call him over, Jackson continued, a sixth sense telling him that he needed to tread carefully, because it was about to become apparent that he wasn’t going to deck the guy for his boss’ sake but for his own. “I don’t want any trouble and I know Gen doesn’t either.”
“I’m not making trouble.”
“I don’t know what happened between the two of y’all but it’s obvious that you being here isn’t making things better.”
Seth turned his way again. This time, even in the dim light, Jackson could see that his dark eyes were filled with irritation. “You’re right. You have no idea what happened. No idea at all. So you’d do good to stay out of it.” He looked over Jackson like he was hardly worth his time. “What’s your story, anyway? Pretty boy like you could probably have any woman you want. Why are you after Gen?”
At another time and in another place, Jackson probably would have slugged him for calling him that. But losing Beth had reminded him that not every slight was worth making an issue out of it. “I’m not after any woman. Just trying to help both of you out.”
“What? You into men?”
Jackson normally wouldn’t have cared if the guy thought he was or not. He was a big believer in giving everyone their privacy. In his world, all that mattered was if a man took care of himself, looked after the people he cared about, and paid his own way.
But, there was something about the pain in the man’s voice that told him that Seth Parks wasn’t a complete jerk.
No, he was hurting real bad.
“If I was into men, it wouldn’t be any of your business. But I’m definitely not into Gen.”
“Because she’s your boss?”
“No. Because I was into my wife.”
Seth’s light-blue eyes blinked. “Was? What happened? She left you?”
Jackson silently counted to five while a fresh wave of pain sliced threw him. “Yeah. She died.”
Seth flinched. And with that flinch, his whole body looked like it deflated. “Damn. I’m sorry.”
Jackson shrugged. Almost acting like it didn’t matter when there was a time it had been all that mattered. “Beth was a good woman and gave me a little girl. Right now I don’t need another woman to look after.”
“You have a daughter?”
“Sure do. Her name’s Kate.”
“How old?”
“She’s almost four.” Smiling softly, he said, “She’s everything to me.”
“That’s good. Kids are good.”
There was that note of pain again. “Look, I don’t want to tell you what to do or cause a scene. I’m just trying to let you know that whatever problem you and my boss have probably isn’t going to be solved in this bar tonight. Most nights we’re all too busy to go to the bathroom, let alone talk about an
ything of worth.”
“I hear what you’re saying, but I don’t have much choice. Gen didn’t want to talk to me when I first came by and didn’t want to call me either. So, I’m going to force it now. ’Cause, it’s going to be discussed. Because a man doesn’t discover that his ex-girlfriend tried to ruin his life and never talk about it.”
While Jackson stood there gaping, feeling like all the air had just been knocked out of him, Gen walked to the end of the bar where Seth sat and leaned over and slapped him hard enough to break up every conversation in the bar.
Silence rang loud and clear as she leaned even closer, tears running down her face. “You bastard,” she hissed.
As Jackson took a step back, he realized he hadn’t been wrong. It had been a real bad idea to get in the middle of their argument. He should have ignored the guy and focused on the other thirty customers in the bar. He stepped back, walking away from the pair. They obviously needed their privacy.
Beth would have looked at him and shaken her head. Right before she would have said that she’d told him so.
CHAPTER 10
From Les Larke’s
You, Too, Can Host
a Poker Tourney:
After sending out your invitations, communication is key. Plan to either email or text your guests to follow up. Some people need more than one reminder.
Saturday Night
She’d told him to go away. He hadn’t.
Seth gave Gen some time to cool off. Two days. That was a lot, considering how long he’d already waited to get answers.
Though she was probably going to tell him that she’d rather see him when hell froze over, he wasn’t of the mind to wait any longer. He needed to see her, tell her his piece, and then get out of Bridgeport, Ohio, before he forgot how badly she’d done him wrong.
Fact was, she’d hurt him something fierce. He wanted to hate her. But he couldn’t take his eyes off Genevieve Schuler.
Eighteen months later, she looked exactly the same. Beautiful. Her long blond hair still tied back in a ponytail. She was again wearing old jeans, worn boots, and a faded band T-shirt that fit like a glove. Still wearing about a pound of silver on her wrists, those thin bangles drawing his attention every time she moved a hand.
Still so hard, so tough. So afraid to let any vulnerability show. Most people probably didn’t know why she was the way she was.
Unfortunately, he knew all too well.
Seth was vaguely aware of the bartender eyeing him and Gen with concern. A number of the staff and customers were staring, too. Hell, if someone passed out popcorn, they’d probably even stop pretending they were doing anything but watching Gen and Seth’s pain come to surface.
But he couldn’t see anything but the way three tears traipsed down Genevieve’s cheekbones. If he hadn’t recently cried for what she’d taken from him, he might even feel real bad about that.
“You need to leave,” she said.
“No, I need to talk you,” he countered. “I told you that yesterday, and I’m telling you again.” Gesturing his head in the direction where the bartender had been, he said, “I suggest you tell your staff that you’re taking the rest of evening off for personal reasons.”
“You suggest? Who do you think you are?”
“Don’t make me answer that.”
Gen looked so angry, her breath was coming in raspy pants.
He’d seen that before. At one time, he would have done just about anything to avoid seeing her get so riled up.
But things were different now.
“I’m not backing off, Gen. I tried to speak to you earlier. I tried to meet with you someplace else, but you didn’t want any of that.”
“I own a bar and it’s the weekend. I don’t have time for this.”
They could play these games all night. Maybe they had before? Everything between them had gotten so muddled, he didn’t know anymore.
All he did know for sure was that he wasn’t going to be able to sleep, eat, or even leave Bridgeport until he said what he’d come to say. And when he knew for sure that she’d actually listened.
He tried again. This time softening his voice, hoping she heard something in his tone that would encourage her to let her guard down, even for a little bit. “I know you don’t want to talk to me.”
She raised one shoulder. “Really? Was I that obvious?”
Damn, but she could bring a grown man to his knees. “I get it. You never want to see me again. I promise, as soon as we get this conversation over with, I’ll go away and leave you alone.”
“Will you promise that I’ll never have to see you again?”
“If that’s what you want.” He gritted his teeth before continuing on. “This is important, Genevieve. I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t. You know I wouldn’t.”
She stared long and hard at him, her brown eyes flickering over his face. Then, at last, she nodded. “Let’s go to my office.”
He would’ve rather gone somewhere more neutral, but he didn’t argue. “Lead the way.”
“Let me go tell Jackson that I need a few.”
He nodded, but she didn’t see his agreement; she’d already turned to the bartender. The guy had been serving beer and mixed drinks the whole time they’d been standing there. It was obvious that he’d been hovering as much as he dared, just in case Gen needed him. The guy was good-looking, and from the way his expression softened when she leaned close to chat, he was certain that the guy hadn’t been telling the whole truth. Jackson might be missing his wife, but there was something between him and Gen.
After Gen exchanged a couple more words with Jackson and touched base with two of the servers, she returned to Seth’s side. “Come on. Let’s get this over with,” she muttered as she turned down the hall.
She didn’t even look back. She was expecting him to follow.
Usually, that would have grated on him. Now? He was just glad they were finally going to be able to do what he’d come there for. Within fifteen minutes, the conversation he’d been dreading would be over, and he could head back home to Texas.
* * *
The minute they walked into her office, Gen closed the door. It was a miracle she hadn’t slammed it—she was so mad she could hardly think straight.
Embarrassed, too.
She hadn’t liked the way Jackson had looked at her, like he was concerned that she was making a bad choice. Didn’t like how more than one of her customers had watched Seth and their little tête-à-tête like it was the latest soap opera come to life.
She liked her private life private. Seth showing up was messing up two years of hard work and professionalism. And because Bridgeport was so small—and half the men and women in her bar had nothing better to do—she knew they’d be bringing up this scene for years to come. Damn it.
Folding her arms over her chest, she glared. “You have five minutes, so you better start talking.”
A muscle in his jaw jumped. “Don’t talk to me like that. You know I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t important.”
But that was the problem. She had no idea what his issue could possibly be. All of a sudden, a dozen bad scenarios filled her brain. Was he sick? Was his momma sick? Had one of their old friends gotten in an accident or something? “Seth, what do you want?”
He closed his eyes, like he was struggling for patience as much as she was. And maybe he was.
“Two days ago I ran into Valerie Gutierrez outside the post office.”
“Valerie?” Valerie had been one of her old neighbors. She’d been friendly. Gen had known her well enough to chat for a spell at the restaurant or to talk in the front lawn when they got their mail.
Not well enough for Seth to make a trek up from Lubbock to relay news about her.
“Yeah. Valerie.” For some reason, he punctuated those words with a meaningful look. Like she
should have been able to read his mind.
She absolutely could not. Impatient now, she folded her arms across her chest. “Well, what did she have to say?”
“She wanted to know how I was doing.”
“Okay.” When he didn’t say anything, she said, “Seth, I’m still completely in the dark here. What is your point?”
“Genevieve, she was worried about how I was doing because of what happened with the baby.”
“Baby?” The word hit her hard in the center of her chest, reminding her of everything she’d thought she once had and how empty she’d become when it was lost.
But what she didn’t know was what it had to do with him and Valerie.
Right as she was about to throw up her hands and tell him to stop speaking in riddles she caught sight of his expression. He looked crushed.
Torn-up-aluminum-foil crushed. Devastated.
“Seth, I’m not trying to be mean, but I’m not following you.”
His eyes widened before he hid his reaction. “I can’t believe you’re going to make me say this.”
“Just say it!”
“Valerie told me about your abortion. About how you aborted our baby.”
“What?” She shook her head as she tried to gather her breath. “No.”
“Gen. She works at the doctor’s office where you went.”
“I don’t know what she does there, but she’s not a doctor or a nurse, Seth.”
“She’s one of the receptionists.”
“Well, whatever she is, she’s also wrong.”
His eyes were piercing. “Are you saying that you were never pregnant with my baby? A baby you didn’t feel the need to tell me about? That you decided to get rid of that baby before telling me about it?”
Pain reverberated through her. Made her reach out for the plain wooden chair that was pressed against the wall of the cramped room. “I was pregnant. But … but I had a miscarriage. I lost our baby almost right away. At eight weeks.”
His whole face went slack. “You didn’t have an abortion.”
Still stunned by his accusation, she shook her head. “No,” she murmured, half to herself. Looking up, she met his eyes. “No, Seth.”
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