3. Chapter Three

Chapter Three

Nolan — Now

I was a missing man.

Or at least anyone would’ve believed I was with the way my phone was going off. It rang again, and I denied my brother’s call, if only to get under his skin. If Brooks insisted on driving me insane, I might as well have some fun with it. Any minute I expected to see him barreling through town in search of me. Hell, I wouldn’t be surprised if he convinced his wife and daughter to cut out pictures of me and glue them to milk cartons.

My brother knew where I was.

He just didn’t like it.

I climbed out of my truck and slammed the door. It was now or never. My phone rang and I pulled it out, ready to remind Brooks I was a grown man. Except it wasn’t my brother’s name on the screen. It was Jake.

I glanced around the parking lot of Ye Olde Trusty Tavern, feeling like I’d been caught. It was early September, so with the weather cooling down and hunting season beginning, it was no surprise to see the lot full to the brim. Even from outside, I could hear the music beating through the wooden frame of the town’s bar. The night was young, and it was time for bad decisions.

But I’d already let too many people down .

“Yeah?” I answered—Jake wasn’t one for formality.

“I know you aren’t about to step foot inside that bar.”

I wasn’t surprised he knew where I was. In a town of less than two thousand, word traveled faster than a wildfire in Arizona. No news was too small. Secrets were hard to come by, and any gossip was considered golden. “I’m not going to drink.”

He snorted. “No. You’re up to something much more stupid.”

I cracked a grin, not surprised he’d call it as it was. I knew it was stupid—I didn’t care. “Go home,” I said, spotting where he was parked across the street. “It’s past your bedtime. If it gets any darker, you’ll have to wait until morning to drive home.”

“I pray whoever you hit on inside has a few drinks in. Lord knows they’ll need it to see past your ugly-ass face.”

I laughed, flipping Jake off as he drove past me and in the direction of his home. “See you tomorrow, you old geezer.” With that, I hung up and turned off my phone. I didn’t need anything else distracting me from what I was about to do.

I climbed the wooden porch steps, the door creaking as I pulled it open. I stepped into the bar, and despite my insistence, the smell of whiskey and the remnants of regret had me questioning what the hell I was doing. It was a wide-open space, rows of pendant lights dangling from the ceiling and shining on the customers throughout the bar. There was a mix of folks I’d known my entire life, as well as hunters or strangers simply passing through. Darts were being thrown at targets on the walls, wedged between fluorescent Coors and Jack Daniels signs. Country music played on the overhead speakers, intertwined with the sound of boots smacking against the wood floor and hollers from couples dancing across the room.

I took a step backwards, my back knocking against the front door. It had been over a year since I stepped foot within these walls. A year since I accepted, drinking or not, I had to stop wasting my days away in this bar. Had to stop torturing myself with the sweet addictive pain of the memories that dwelled here. I hadn’t thought it would be a big deal to come back, but I was wrong —

“Nolan!”

I swallowed, hiding my unease with a smile as I caught sight of Charlie across the building in the game room. He waved his arms wide, as though I couldn’t see him past the crowd on the dance floor. Dude was as big as a grizzly. “Nolan, over here!”

I hesitated. I didn’t want to be here any longer than necessary. I eyed the bar counter, and after failing to find Heath, the owner, I crossed the room. “You’re just in time,” Charlie said, like no time had passed since we’d last hung out. Probably because we’d known each other since we were kids. “I need your help in pool. Lisa’s wiping the table with my ass.”

“Nothing new there.” I trailed him to the game room, a low railing separating it and the dance floor. “I can’t stay and play—”

“Look who I found,” he shouted, loud enough to be heard over the music and conversations edging on the side of arguments. Gazes slowly turned my way, and my unease grew. “What did I tell you, Lisa? Tonight’s my night. I’m going to kick your ass.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure.” Her voice held nothing but confidence, similar to how she carried herself. Her skin was brown, her frame tall and lean. Her dark hair was slung up atop her head, and I assumed from her tank top and athletic shorts, she’d been coaching soccer before coming here. It would be a shame if the rumor circulating through town about the school cutting all sports programs turned out to be true. “I always beat you. Regardless if Nolan’s on your team or not.”

Charlie tugged on Lisa’s ponytail, and she swatted him on the chest. For a moment, it felt like I’d traveled a decade back to when I was in high school. The feeling grew as I glanced around the pool table at several of my classmates, some older, some younger. There were two types of folks who’d grown up in Wallowpine. There were those who ran like hell, and those who wound up here forever.

I was a lifer.

Lisa wrapped an arm around my waist, giving me a squeeze. “Long time no see. ”

“I know.” I mustered up my most apologetic smile. “I’ve been busy.”

She raised a brow, but before she could call me out, Charlie said, “Grab a stick and get warmed up, man. I’ll get you a beer.”

I shook my head, taking a step back. “I’ve gotta get going. Sorry.”

“Don’t look so beat up about it, Charlie.” Sam, one of my high school buddies, leaned against the pool table, a beer beside him. He picked it up and took a big swig, amber liquid dripping down his chin and onto his collar. “Nolan’s too good to slum with us.”

I straightened at that. There was a time I was Ye Olde Trusty Tavern’s most loyal customer, but not anymore. “Nah.” I grinned, brushing off his comment. He knew I wasn’t too good for anything. “I just like hanging out with my niece. She’s cuter than you, and sometimes she shares her snacks.”

“She’s so adorable.” Lisa wrapped her arms around Charlie’s waist. “I keep asking him for one, but he tells me no.”

“I’m telling you, Lisa,” he started, “you won’t think those babies are so cute once you see their head spin around and they scream all night.”

I laughed, unable to deny he spoke some truth. My niece was a total sour patch. She was one and a half, and already I’d seen some monstrous fits. But she was sweet to me, and besides, some sour had never scared me.

I pulled out my phone and switched it on, letting Lisa flip through my photos of Wren—except we called her Winnie—nothing but pride in my heart as she beamed over her. I was so distracted, I nearly missed it when Sam said, “You need to be smart like Nolan. He’s got the perfect gig.”

I pocketed my phone. “What do you mean?”

“Come on, you’ve got the best of both worlds. You hang out with your brother and that pretty wife and daughter of his, but at the end of the day, you go home to that big house alone.” He took a swig of his beer. “You’re a bachelor who gets to play happy family.”

My jaw ticked, and I found myself eyeing Charlie’s whiskey. But rather than reminiscing on that bitter burn, I said, “What can I say? I’ve got it made. ”

“Now I understand why you’re too scared to play pool.” Sam grabbed a cue down from the wall. “You’re probably rusty after playing dress-up and Barbies all day.”

Winnie was too young to show much interest in Barbies and dress-up, but I didn’t bother to explain that. Because as Sam held the stick out to me, I recognized it for what it was. A challenge.

A thrill shot through me, both at the idea of feeling something and of winning.

It had been a long time since I’d done either.

I grabbed the cue stick. “Do I need to put on a tutu and crown, or is it alright if I beat you without ’em?”

He grinned, and I rounded the table. Despite Lisa and Charlie being an item, she teamed up with Sam. Charlie slapped my back, beaming that we were playing again.

Just like old times.

But no matter how many balls I sunk, or the number of smiles I forced, nothing filled the gaping hole inside me. “Sam”—I set up the cue—“you should probably text your mom and let her know you’re going to be home late. Wouldn’t want your bathwater to get cold.”

“I’d tell you the same, but your bathwater has been cold since the day your mama left you.”

“You’re not wrong.” I laughed, ignoring the sorry look Lisa shot me. It was all in good fun. I could take a joke. There was nothing Sam could say that I didn’t already know. I hit the ball, glad the room had fallen silent so I could hear the sweet sound of it sinking in. “But you are a loser.”

Charlie hollered a yell, and you would’ve thought by the way he flung Lisa onto his shoulder he’d won a million dollars. “Buy you a drink?” Sam asked, shaking my hand.

“Nah.” I glanced at the bar, and after still not seeing Heath, I decided I should leave. I’d tested my luck enough. “I’m going to leave—”

“What’s that, Lisa?” Charlie taunted, still lugging her around. “You want me to take you home and show you what a real man does to celebrate? ”

“I’m going to castrate you,” she warned as he set her down, though the kiss she gave him said otherwise. But it was nothing more than a distraction, as barely a second later, she dumped a drink on his head.

Charlie feigned shock, like they hadn’t done this dance since they were kids. Lisa squealed, failing to escape him as he pulled her to his chest. I watched them, and while I was glad they’d lasted over the years, something that felt like true envy wove through me.

Time to go.

Before I could manage a step, a brittle voice asked, “How do you plan on celebrating?”

I glanced to my right, recognizing the woman beside me. Her hair was blonde, falling over her shoulders and onto her jean jacket. Chewing a piece of gum, she peered up at me, her eyes the wrong shade of brown. Bethany smiled at me, and no matter how much I tried, I couldn’t bring myself to return it. “By going to bed. Alone.”

“That’s no fun.” Charlie wrapped an arm around Lisa. “Remember when we’d go on joyrides around town after we won a game? Those were the good ol’ days.”

I kept my mouth shut, not sure if I agreed or disagreed about our time in high school being the glory days. I never had the chance to decide because Sam continued, “And then Nolan would go off and get a special ride of his own.”

I rolled my hand into a fist. Relax. Sam had drunk at least four beers, and it would be unfair to hold it against him. But I almost considered letting my fist fly when he said, “She was a wild bull, that one.”

“We all make mistakes.” Bethany stepped into my side, her fingers grazing mine. “Nolan has better taste now.”

I tucked my hands in my pockets, and it was only the sight of Heath walking in through the back door that had me not running for the hills. I remained where I was, biding my time as Sam added, “Yeah, he prefers his women to be from out of town. ”

I shrugged. There was no sense in denying it. If they were from out of town, there was less chance of word spreading through Wallowpine. And my business could stay my own.

“Your taste might have to change because I heard Heath is tearing this place down. Won’t be so easy for you to pick up strangers,” Bethany told me, apparently not realizing I hadn’t been inside the bar in well over a year.

“What a shame,” I muttered, pretending I hadn’t heard of Heath’s intentions. He’d listed it for sale on and off throughout the last decade, but this was the first time I’d caught word of him tearing it down. He apparently had an offer for the land. It was why I’d raced to the bank this afternoon and then sat in the bar parking lot for two hours before I worked up the nerve to step inside.

It had nothing to do with picking up any out-of-towner.

Done wasting time, I walked to the counter. “Heath!” By the way he rolled his eyes, I assumed he knew why I was here. “I want to buy the bar.”

He shook his head, long dark hair falling over his shoulder. “Nope.”

“I’ll give you more than your asking price,” I pressed, refusing to give in so easily. I wasn’t leaving until I bought this bar, and everything that came with it.

“The buyer already offered me five grand more than I listed it for.” His words were a punch to the gut. “Unless you’re willing to give me more than that, I assume we’re done here.”

I bit the inside of my cheek. Shit. I had money set aside, but it wasn’t enough to catch Heath’s eye, and I wasn’t sure the bank would give me a better loan. “Come on, Heath,” I tried, deciding to use a different method. “Do you even know who the hell you’re selling the bar to?” He didn’t respond, but the way he avoided my gaze was answer enough. I’d bet anything it was some out-of-towner, looking to bring a bit of city life to the boonies. “At least if you sell it to me, you know who you’re giving it to. And I sure as hell won’t tear your hard work down.”

He pursed his lips together, likely thinking I had a point. He had known me my entire life, even had pictures of me playing baseball framed on his walls. He’d beamed with pride when he hung them nearly a decade ago, even insisted I sign a few. Plenty had changed since then. I was positive the pride he’d once felt toward me was gone, but him keeping them up had to mean something.

“What the hell are you going to do with a bar?” He braced a tattooed forearm against the counter. “You’re already running your daddy’s game shop. And I know your woodworking’s taking off.”

I shrugged. “I haven’t figured it out completely yet—”

“Then no.”

“Come on, Heath.”

“No.” There was finality in his voice. “As I told you the last three times, I can’t in good conscience sell you this bar when you know it would make your dad roll over in his grave. I know you might not believe it, but I’m sure he had a good reason for not helping you buy it when he was alive.”

I stared at him, failing to find the words to stop him from walking away. I let out a long and low curse. There went my last chance. I wrung my hands through my hair, tugging at the strands as a voice said, “You look like you just died.”

Shifting on my feet, I turned, not recognizing the woman leaning against the wall. “I feel like it.” It was the most honest I’d been all night.

“That’s a shame.” She bit her lip, but there was nothing shy about the way she looked me up and down. “I was watching you earlier. Thought you looked like a good time.” She shrugged. “Guess I was wrong.”

She didn’t know me, but I bristled at the way her words settled in me. Maybe it was because of Charlie and Sam jesting me, how I could feel them watching me from across the bar. Or maybe it was the pathetic truth—that I was desperate to feel anything. Whatever it was, I found myself saying, “Honey, I can be dead or alive and still show you a good time.”

The words tasted wrong, and I wanted to take them back, but she raised her brows, a slight curve to her lips. I waited for my heart to pound, for the thrill of the chase to race through me. Somewhere in the back of my mind it occurred to me I hadn’t even checked her out, but that was damn near impossible. Especially when the front door swung open and a sweet piece of haunted past walked in.

Her hair was fiery red, but any signs of her wild curls were slicked back into a bun. She wore a pantsuit, hiding her long legs and the freckles I knew painted every inch of her creamy skin. She scanned the room, and if she spotted anyone she knew, she gave no sign. Based on the way no one ran screaming in the other direction or tossed a beer, I imagined they hadn’t recognized her.

But no matter how different she looked, when she zeroed in on me, I knew that damn fire in her brown eyes.

Indy Tyler.

I stared at her, not hearing a word of what the woman beside me said as Indy approached, crossing her arms over her chest. “We need to talk.”

And because I was a miserable bastard, I said, “Gimme a second.”

“Now.” Heat rose on her cheeks, and by the way she fidgeted in her heels, I was surprised she didn’t drag me outside. But maybe I shouldn’t have been surprised. Indy was a stranger to me. “I need to talk to you right now.”

“He’s busy,” the woman beside me said, reminding me she was there. Indy’s lip twitched, but if she was uncomfortable when the woman slipped a finger in my belt loop, she didn’t let it show. “I’ll send him to find you when he and I are done.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you were in the middle of something.” Indy’s voice was laced with sweetness, so much I was lured into believing it was true. But then her tone turned deliciously sour. “I’ll wait at the bar. Just let me know when you’re done with my husband.”

“What?” the woman choked, and I stepped back, feeling like I’d been dosed in gasoline and set on fire. It was the most alive I’d felt in years. “We didn’t—I swear I didn’t know he was married.”

Neither did I.

But I didn’t voice that. Not when all I could do was stare at the addiction I could never shake, the one who haunted me morning and night, as she said, “We’re still married, you jackass.”