Things We Never Got Over

by Lucy Score

  Nash did the Morgan nervous tic of running his hand through his hair. “He’s a wild card, and I don’t like wild cards. This guy just happens to show up at the library to talk to you.”

  “He said he needed help with a computer problem.”

  He nodded, and I could see him rearranging puzzle pieces in his head, trying to find the pattern. “Then you see him in the bar the night someone breaks into your place. That’s not a coincidence.”

  I shivered.

  “I just keep hoping, whoever they were, they found whatever they were looking for. If they found it, there’s no reason to come back.”

  “I hope so too,” he said. “Did you talk to Waylay about it?”

  “I did finally. She took it pretty well. She was more concerned about whether any of her new clothes were stolen than the break-in itself. She didn’t seem to know what Tina or anyone else would have been looking for. I mean, it’s not like we had a pallet of stolen TVs sitting around in the living room.”

  “Been thinking,” Nash said, rubbing a hand over his jaw. “It doesn’t have to be stolen goods. If Tina was bragging about a big payday it could have been a different kind of job.”

  “Like what?”

  “People get paid to do a lot of shit. Maybe she gave up on moving stolen property and got mixed up in something else. Maybe they got their hands on information that someone else wanted. Or that someone didn’t want anyone else to know.”

  “How does someone lose or hide information?”

  He smiled sweetly at me. “Not everyone’s as organized as you are, honey.”

  “If this whole thing is about something Tina was irresponsible enough to lose, I am going to be pissed,” I told him. “She went through nine house keys. Nine. And don’t even get me started on the car keys.”

  His smile stayed fixed in place. “It’s gonna be all right, Naomi. I promise you.”

  I nodded. But I couldn’t stop thinking of all the ways Tina had managed to hurt me despite my parents’ best efforts. How were a small-town police department and a wounded chief supposed to protect us?

  And then it hit me. Maybe it was time for me to start standing up for myself.

  Nash leaned against the wall. His expression gave nothing away, but I was willing to bet money that he was in pain.

  “There is something I wanted to ask you,” he said, looking serious.

  “There is?” I croaked. Sure, Nash was as unfairly gorgeous as his jerk of a brother. He certainly had a more amiable personality. And he was great with kids. Great with Waylay. But if he asked me out just days after his brother, I was going to have to let him down easy.

  I had zero headspace for another Morgan brother and I needed to focus on my niece and the guardianship.

  “You mind if I have a word with Waylay?” he asked.

  I jolted, rewinding his words to see if I’d somehow missed the dinner invitation. Nope. “Waylay? Why?”

  “I might ask the right question and help her remember something important from before her mom left. She knows Tina better than any of us.”

  I bristled. “Do you think she has something to do with this?”

  “No, honey. I don’t. But I know what it’s like to be a kid who keeps quiet, plays things close to the vest.”

  I could see that about him. Knox was the “stand up and pitch a fit about a problem” kind of guy. On the outside Nash was Mr. Nice Guy, but there was a quiet depth there, and I wondered what secrets lurked beneath that surface.

  “Okay,” I agreed. “But I’d like to be with you when you do talk to her. She’s finally starting to trust me. To open up to me. So I want to be there.”

  “Absolutely.” He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, and I thought about what a good guy he was. Then I wished it was Knox’s fingers in my hair. And then I got mad all over again.

  The restroom door opened, and Sloane walked out. More accurately, she stumbled. I caught her, and she smiled up at me and squished my cheeks between her hands. “You are sooooo pretty!”

  “I’ll escort this one back to the table,” Nash volunteered.

  “You’re really pretty too, Nash,” Sloane said.

  “I know. It’s a curse, Sloaney Bologna.”

  “Aww. You remember,” she crooned as he led her back to the bar.

  I stepped into the ladies’ room and decided it was not a room I wanted to linger in. So I made quick work of taking care of business and then ducked back into the hall. There were no babysitters lurking, so I pulled out my phone and opened my email.

  Glancing over my shoulder to make sure Lucian or Nash hadn’t materialized, I started a new message.

  To: Tina

  From: Naomi

  Subject: What you’re looking for

  Tina,

  I don’t know what you’re looking for. But if it gets you out of my life, I’ll help you find it. Tell me what I’m looking for and how I can get it to you.

  N

  If I could find whatever it was Tina wanted first, I’d have the leverage I needed to get her out of my life. If it wasn’t something like nuclear codes, I could let her have it or I could at least use it as bait to lure her out of hiding.

  I waited for the tiny pinprick of guilt. But it never came. I was still waiting when my phone rang in my hand.

  Knox Morgan.

  I didn’t know if it was the Fireball or all the pitying pep talks, but I felt more than ready to take charge. Squaring my shoulders, I answered the call. “What?”

  “Naomi? Thank God.” He sounded relieved.

  “What do you want, Knox?”

  “Look, I don’t know what Lina told you, but this wasn’t what you think.”

  “What I think,” I said, cutting him off, “is that your love life is none of my business.”

  “Oh, come on. Don’t be like that.”

  “I’ll be any damn way I want to be, and you have no say in it. You need to stop texting and calling. We’re over. You walked.”

  “Naomi, just because we’re not together doesn’t mean I don’t want you safe.”

  His voice, the rawness in it, went straight to my chest. I felt like I couldn’t breathe.

  “That’s very chivalrous of you, but I don’t need you to keep me safe. There’s a whole other line of defense in place. You’re officially free. Enjoy it.”

  “Daze, I don’t know how to make you understand.”

  “That’s just it, Knox. I do understand. I understand that you cared, and it scared you. I understand that Waylay and I weren’t reward enough to get you to face that fear. I get it. I’m dealing. You made the call, now you have to deal with the consequences. But I’m not like Lina. I’m not going to insist on being friends. In fact, consider this my notice. Tomorrow night is my last shift at Honky Tonk. Just because we live in the same damn small town doesn’t mean we have to see each other all the damn time.”

  “Naomi, this isn’t what I wanted.”

  “Honestly, I don’t care what you want. For once, I’m thinking about what I want. Now stop calling. Stop texting. Call off your babysitters and let me live my life. Because you’re no longer a part of it.”

  “Look. If this is about what I said about you and Nash, I apologize. He told me—”

  “I’m going to stop you right there before you call me your leftovers again. I don’t care what you say or think about me and any man I might choose to see. I don’t need your opinions or your half-assed apologies. Who apologizes by saying ‘I apologize’?” I demanded, making sure my imitation of him was far from flattering.

  There was silence on the other end, and for a second I’d hoped he’d hung up on me.

  “How much have you had to drink?” he asked.

  I held the phone up to my face and screamed into it.

  I heard the scrape of chairs, and moments later Lucian and Nash were standing in the mouth of the hallway. I held up a finger to keep them at bay. “I suggest you lose this number because if you call me again I won’t make Waylay give your
dog back.”

  “Naomi—”

  I hung up and stuffed the phone into my pocket. “Can one of you give me a ride home? I have a headache.”

  But it was nothing compared to the ache in my chest.

  FORTY-FIVE

  THE BAR FIGHT

  Knox

  I blew into Honky Tonk under a full head of steam. I hadn’t slept last night. Not after that phone call with Naomi. The woman was a stubborn nightmare. She didn’t care that I was trying to do what was best for her. She didn’t want to see it from my perspective. Quitting a good job just because she got her feelings hurt was a stupid fucking reason to turn her back on cash.

  And I was going to tell her that.

  Instead of the usual greetings from the kitchen staff I got a couple of furtive glances, and suddenly everyone was too busy with what they were doing to even acknowledge me.

  Everyone needed to get their heads out of their asses and get over it.

  I pushed through the doors into the bar and found Naomi leaning over a table in the corner, laughing at something her mom was saying. Lou and Amanda were there for the drinks portion of their weekly date night.

  I knew it had nothing to do with supporting my business and everything to do with showing their support for their daughter.

  The rest of her section was already full. Because she drew people to her.

  Knockemout had welcomed her just as it had me and my brother all those years ago. If she thought she was going to leave me behind, she was about to be disappointed.

  A long, denim-clad leg kicked out in front of me, blocking my path. “Whoa, cowboy. You look like you’re about to murder someone.”

  “I don’t have time for games, Lina,” I told her.

  “Then stop playing them.”

  “I’m not the one playing. I fucking told her just like I told you how it was going to go. It went the way I said. She’s got no right to be pissed at me.”

  “You ever think about telling her the real reason why you are the way you are?” she asked, lifting a glass of what I had a feeling was my private stock of bourbon.

  “What are you talking about?” I asked evenly.

  She rolled her neck like she was warming up for a fight. “Listen, Knox. Women have this sixth sense when we’re being served up half-truths.”

  “You got a point?”

  Naomi left her table with a little wave and was headed to the next one, a four-top full of bikers.

  “She knows there’s more to it than what you’re sharing. I knew it. And I’d be willing to bet every woman in between knew it too. We’re suckers for a wounded man. We think we can be the one you’ll let in. The one who’ll magically fix you with our love.”

  “Come on, Lina.”

  “I’m serious. But you just keep pushing all of us away. And I think that’s because you don’t want to acknowledge your truth.”

  “You sound like a fucking TV therapist.”

  “Bottom line, my friend. Naomi deserves your truth. Even if it’s ugly. She’s not going to forgive you and ‘get over it,’ as you so eloquently put it, unless you’re straight with her. I think you owe it to her.”

  “I really don’t like you right now,” I told her.

  She grinned. “And I don’t really care.” She polished off her drink and set the empty on the bar. “I’ll see you later. Try not to fuck it up even more.”

  It was with those words ringing in my ears that I rounded the bar and caught Naomi at the POS.

  She hadn’t seen me yet. So I stood there looking my fill, my body tense with the need to touch her. Her face was flushed. Her hair was styled in sexy waves. She was back in one of those damn jean skirts. This one looked new and even shorter than the others. She wore cowboy boots and a long-sleeved Honky Tonk V-neck. She looked like every man’s fantasy.

  She looked like my fantasy.

  “Need to talk to you,” I said.

  She jolted when I spoke, then looked me up and down before turning away.

  I grabbed her arm. “That’s not a request.”

  “In case you haven’t noticed, I have seven tables, boss. I’m busy. It’s my last night. There’s nothing that needs to be said.”

  “You’re wrong, Daisy. It’s not your last night, and there’s a lot I need you to hear.”

  We were close. Too close. My senses were full of her. Her scent, the velvet softness of her skin, the sound of her voice. It all went straight to my gut.

  She felt it too. The attraction hadn’t simply vanished because I’d called it quits. If anything, the last week spent without her made me want her even more.

  I fucking missed waking up next to her. Missed seeing her at Liza’s table. Missed walking Waylay to the bus stop. Missed the way I felt when Naomi kissed me like she couldn’t help herself.

  The music from the speakers kicked over to a lively country anthem, and the bar cheered.

  “I’m busy, Viking. If you drag me out of here, you’re only hurting your own profit margins.”

  I clenched my jaw. “Get your tables sorted. You’re on break in fifteen. My office.”

  “Yeah, okay,” she said, her tone dripping with sarcasm.

  “If you’re not in my office in fifteen, I will come out here, throw you over my shoulder, and carry your ass back there.” I leaned in closer, almost close enough to kiss her. “And there is no way that skirt of yours is up for that.”

  I felt her shiver against me when my lips brushed her ear.

  “Fifteen minutes, Naomi,” I said and left her standing there.

  Sixteen minutes later, I was alone in my office and royally pissed. I yanked the door open so hard the hinges rattled. When I hit the bar, Naomi’s head came up at the service bar like a doe sensing danger.

  I went straight for her.

  Those eyes went wide when she read my intention.

  “Warned you,” I told her as she took a step back and then another.

  “Don’t you dare, Knox!”

  But I fucking dared.

  I caught her by the arm and bent at the waist. She was up over my shoulder in less than a second. It was like a record scratch. The bar went completely silent except for Darius Rucker on the speakers.

  “Max, run those drinks,” I said, nodding at Naomi’s tray.

  Naomi squirmed, trying to right herself, but I wasn’t having any of it. I gave her a hard slap on the ass, catching denim, cotton, and bare skin.

  The bar erupted into pandemonium.

  Naomi squeaked and reached for the hem of her skirt.

  She was wearing the underwear I bought her, and I knew that as frosty as she’d been, she fucking missed me.

  “Everyone can see my underwear!” she yelped.

  I laid my palm over her ass. “Better?”

  “I am going to slap you so hard your head spins around,” she threatened as I marched us out of the bar and toward my office.

  By the time I hit the code on the door, she’d stopped fighting me and hung upside down with her arms crossed in what I could only assume was a pout.

  I hated to take my hands off her. I wished there was a way to get through this without letting her go. But I wasn’t a great conversationalist under normal circumstances, and when I had an aching dick, I was even worse.

  I grabbed her by the hips and let her slide down my body until her toes hit the floor. For a moment, we stood there, pressed against each other like we were one. And for just a second, as she looked into my eyes with her palms pressed flat on my chest, everything felt right.

  Then she was pushing away from me and stepping back.

  “What the hell do you want from me, Knox? You said you didn’t want to be together. We’re not together. I’m not following you around, begging for another chance. I respected your wishes.”

  I was worried she’d get the wrong answer if she looked below my belt, so I steered her to the chair behind my desk.

  “Sit.”

  She glared at me for a full thirty seconds with her arms c
rossed before giving in. “Fine,” she said, flopping down in my chair. But the distance didn’t make me feel better. I was starting to realize the only thing that did was being close to her.

  “You keep saying you want one thing and then acting like you want something completely different,” she said.

  “I know.”

  That shut her up.

  I needed to move, so I paced in front of the desk, needing to keep something between us.

  “There’s something you don’t know.”

  Her fingers drummed on her arms. “You gonna enlighten me anytime soon, or do I have to kiss all those tips out there good-bye?”

  I shoved my hands through my hair, scraped one down over my beard. I felt sweaty and twitchy. “Don’t rush me, okay?”

  “I am not going to miss working for you,” she said.

  “Fuck. Naomi. Just give me a second. I don’t talk about this shit to anyone. Okay?”

  “Why start now?” She stood up.

  “You met my father.” I blurted out the words.

  Slowly, she sank back into the chair.

  I started pacing again. “At the shelter,” I said.

  “Oh my God. Duke,” she said. The realization hit her. “You cut his hair. You introduced us.”

  I hadn’t introduced them. Naomi had introduced herself.

  “When my mom died, he didn’t deal. He started drinking. Stopped going to work. Got busted for a DUI. That’s when Liza and Pop took us in. They were grieving too. For them, being around me and Nash wasn’t some painful reminder of what they lost. But for my father… He couldn’t even look at us. The drinking continued here. Right here at the bar before it was Honky Tonk.”

  Maybe that’s why I bought it. Why I’d felt compelled to turn it into something better.

  “When the alcohol stopped numbing him, he went looking for something harder.”

  So many memories I’d thought I’d buried came rushing back.

  Dad with bloodshot eyes, scratches and scabs all on his arms. Bruises and cuts he didn’t remember on his face.

  Dad curled on the floor of the kitchen, screaming about bugs.