Page 52 of Forgotten Romance

I’m getting the warm fuzzies, which isn’t just the alcohol talking.

But the alcohol is definitely talking.

I’m walking around, grin wide, feeling gooey and smiley and fuzzy—wait, I already said fuzzy. I throw back another swig of beer, loving the bubbly feel on my tongue.

Davey stuck close by earlier in the night, but he’s chatting with Payne and Beau now, and I’m flitting from group to group, wishing I could sweep everyone up in a hug. I’m always happy, but tonight, that happy comes without a side of heartache, and I’ve gotta say, it’s a nice change.

Having heart hurties is exhausting.

“Mack?”

I swing around and find Luke standing there. His cheeks and nose are flushed almost as red as his hair, so I assume he’s only just arrived.

“Luke!” I throw my arms out and wrap him in a hug.

He laughs into my shoulder, hands resting on my back, and when I pull away, he’s somehow even redder. “Ford and Orson said it would be okay to come.”

“Yeah, of course. The more, the merrier! Get into the Christmas spirit.” I almost knock into Keller—I definitely slosh the drinks he’s carrying—as I scoop up a set of reindeer antlers. Then I turn back to Luke, step in close, and settle them on his head.

“Thanks.” He touches the band gently. “Brayden didn’t want to come tonight, so it’s just me. Other than Orson and Ford, you’re the only friend I have here. Any chance …”

“Yeah?”

“Well …” He gives a self-deprecating laugh. “Can you stick by me? For a bit while I meet people?”

“Of course. I’ll introduce you around.”

“Fuck, that’d be great. I’ve been here for most of this year and still haven’t made a lot of friends. It’s very different to back home, where I knew just about everyone.”

“Why did you move here?”

Luke shrugs. “Job opportunity.”

Something about that doesn’t sound right. And normally I’m not the most switched-on bulb in the room, but I’m pretty fucking sure I’m reading this one right. “A job? What do you do?”

“Oh, uh …” He stuffs a hand in the pocket of his jacket and rubs the back of his neck with the other. “I’m working as a tour guide. At Kill Pen.”

“Oh, cool!”

He eyes me. “Really?”

“I bet it’s the kind of job that’s different every day. Is it spooky walking through all the cells, or have you gotten used to it by now?”

“I’m used to it.” He studies me, smile pulling at his lips. “You’re very animated tonight.”

“Just a little tipsy.”

His laugh is throaty. “I bet you don’t get a chance to let your hair down much?”

“Nope! But it’s fine. I love my kiddies and my husband, and work is great. Then I get tipsy when I can get tipsy.”

Luke’s giving me a strange look. “Husband?”

Shit. Did I say that out loud? “Ex! He’s my ex. I said ex-husband.”

“Of course you did.” Luke’s eyes flick to the other side of the room. “Well, don’t look now, but I’m getting the feeling your ex doesn’t like us talking.”

“Really?” I swing around and find Davey in the same spot as before, hand wrapped around a glass, and glaring our way. As soon as our eyes meet, his dart away.

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