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6. Tara

6

TARA

I pull into a parking spot on the main road right down from The Whiskey Whistler. As if Jason had been expecting me, he walks up to my car and helps me out. I'm a nervous wreck and have been this whole afternoon. I'm pretty sure I drove Becca crazy. When I got home, I went through my whole closet, trying to find something to wear. And it looks as if my closet exploded all over my bed.

I decided not to wear a dress or heels. Instead, I thought it would be best to just stay true to who I am. So jeans, my ankle boots, and a fitted shirt is what I decided on. And by the way his eyes roam my body appreciatively, I think I made the right choice. "You look good, Mama."

I smile up at him, "Thanks. You look pretty good yourself."

I walk next to him toward the bar and look at him out of the side of my eye. He has on jeans, a T-shirt, and his motorcycle vest. He opens the door for me, and we walk in. The country music is loud tonight, and people are laughing and talking all around us. We find an empty table and sit down.

He surprises me when he sits next to me instead of across from me. I look at him questioningly. He just shrugs his shoulders. "I'm going to want to keep you close."

I pick up one of the small menus that is standing up in the middle of the table. "What are you going to get?" I ask him.

He turns toward me, his body angled toward mine now. "I don't know. I heard they had good hamburgers."

He's smirking at me as I remember our conversation from earlier. "They do have good hamburgers. You just wait and see."

The waitress comes, we turn in our order, and I turn to him. He puts his hands on my legs and positions me so that my legs are fitted between the two of his. We're seated closely together. "All right, so you know about me. Why don't you tell me about you now?"

I shrug, sort of embarrassed because there's not a lot to say. "Well, let's see. I started working at Sugar Glaze when I was in high school and have worked there ever since. My mom passed away when I was little, and I was raised by my dad. He died last year from cancer. He left me my house. It's up in the mountain. A part of me wishes I lived closer to town, but I don't think that I could ever really let my home go. I have a lot of memories there with my dad."

His hand goes to my knee, and he squeezes there. "I'm sorry."

It's just two words, but I see the sincerity in his face. I know after hearing about his mom and dad that he probably understands what it's like to be alone in this world. I'm about to tell him it's okay, that my dad had suffered for a long time and I'm glad that he’s no longer in pain, but I don't get the chance because Walker walks up to the table. "Hey, Tara, Hey Jason, how's it going? How's the move?"

I blink at the two men as they have a full conversation. Walker is well known in our town. Heck, he probably owns half of it. How does Jason already know him? I wait for them to finish their conversation, and Walker says he needs to get back over to his wife. I wave across the room at Brooklyn, and she waves back.

It’s on the tip of my tongue to ask him about it, but I know it's none of my business, but when Walker walks away, I can’t seem to keep it in. "How do you know Walker?"

Jason shrugs and tries to play it off. "Walker's company was originally in Texas. We worked together some there, and we'll probably do the same now that we're in Whiskey Run."

My mind starts to go a hundred miles a minute. No one knows exactly what Walker does at his compound out on the highway. Of course, there are rumors. The most I've discovered was from Emery. She is married to Nash, who used to be one of the founding owners of the company. Emery is the one that owns Sugar Glaze Bakery. And the only thing that she's ever said is that they help people. A part of me wonders if it's some kind of top-secret military thing, but again, that could just be my wild imagination working overtime.

We eat our dinner and talk and laugh the whole entire time. By the time a few hours have gone by, I start to wish I had him pick me up because I don't want the night to end. We barely get outside the door of the Whiskey Whistler when we see Mark, my ex, standing waiting on us.

He looks at Jason. "You going to introduce me to your friend?"

I haven't seen Mark in the last few days, and I had hoped he was finally giving up. He's made a point of coming in and being pesky at the bakery, but it hasn't been that big of a deal, at least nothing I couldn’t handle.

"Jason, this is Mark, my ex. Mark, this is Jason."

Mark just looks at Jason with a smirk and then looks at me. "You open your legs for him yet?"

I gasp, but before I can get any words out, Jason picks me up and puts me behind him. "Stay right here, Mama." His face is livid.

When he turns away from me, I have no idea what he's going to do until it's already happened. There's no warning or anything. He punches Mark in the face, and Mark lands on his back. Jason towers over him. "I don't even want you to say her name. I don't want you to even think about her. Stay away from what's mine."

Mark is stupid. I sort of knew it all along, but it really is obvious when he struggles to stand up and gets to his feet. He makes a move toward Jason, and before I know it, they're in a battle of punches.

People come out of the bar to watch, and I'm hollering for Jason to please stop. The crowd only disperses once the blue lights light up in the middle of the road. All I can do is stand here helpless as they arrest both Jason and Mark. I try to plea Jason's case to the officer, but he says they're going to handle it all at the precinct. Jason doesn't look at me the whole time. At this point, he's probably thinking I'm way more trouble than I'm worth.

I grab my keys from my purse and start to jog back to my car. If nothing else, I can go to the police station and bail him out. I'm about to get in when I hear the rumble of a motorcycle coming down the street. Under the lights, I can see the same motorcycle vest as the one Jason wears, but quite honestly, I would've known it was a friend of his anyway. There's not a lot of motorcycle riders in Whiskey Run. I go to the middle of the street and wave the guy down. He stops next to me and turns his engine off right in the middle of the street.

Breathless from my jog, I rush the words out, "Jason... you have to help. He got arrested.”

I’ve seen the guy before. He’s one of the ones that would come into the bakery with Jason. "What happened to him?"

"He got into a fight and got arrested."

He nods, and honestly it doesn't seem to be a big deal to him. "Don't worry about it. I'll take care of it."

I pull my purse farther up my shoulder. "I'll meet you at the police station."

I get two steps away when he hollers at me, "No, you need to stay away from there."

I look back at him open-mouthed. "Why?"

He says, "Look, there are things at play here you probably know nothing about, but I know for a fact that Jason would not want you there."

“Just...” I start to argue, but he cuts me off.

“He’ll be fine," he says.

I shake my head, but he holds his hand up. "No, trust me. Jason would have my head if I let you go to the police station to bail him out. I got this. He'll be out tonight."

Against my better judgment, I agree to what he's asking and watch him drive off toward the police station. It's not until hours later that I find out in the Whiskey Run rumor mill that he was bailed out.

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