Page 23 of Spilling the Tea

She stood and huffed off, deliberately swaying her backside when she did so. Seeing her in those jeans did nothing for him. Not like seeing Zoey in hers.

Zoey.

Why had he thought about her during the hour-and-a-half drive from his ranch? Why was he thinking about how things would go with her and Mama Laverne tomorrow? More importantly, between her and Corbin. He would be taking her out on Saturday. His cousin better not get out of line with her or else.

Or else what? He didn’t have anything to say about anything when getting Zoey and Corbin together had been a deliberate move on his part. He figured he would have no reason to think about her once he’d done so. Damn, that strategy wasn’t working. He was thinking about her even more.

“You want the usual, Chance?”

He met his waitress’s gaze. Barbie had been his first one-nightstand years ago, and he appreciated she’d understood the rules then and had abided by them since. “Yes, Barbie. The usual.”

When she walked off, he scoped the place again. This time focusing on the women. There seemed to be a lot of them. Some were sitting alone. Some in groups. Several had met his gaze and held it, and then he’d broken eye contact. He hadn’t felt anything. Not that sensuous connection, magnetic pull, or sizzling chemistry he felt whenever he stared into Zoey’s eyes.

Like yesterday. Not only had he dismissed Corbin’s presence, but he’d also not given a damn. He only considered pulling her into his arms and kissing her to share her emotions. Lucky for him, Corbin had made a sound to knock some quick sense into him.

“Here you are, Chance,” Barbie said, interrupting his thoughts as she placed a beer before him.

“Thanks.”

When she walked off, he picked up the bottle and began scanning the place again. Several more women had arrived. Some he’d shared a bed with before. Others he had not. He concentrated on the latter, but still, he felt nothing. Not a single one aroused him to a spark of hunger or enticed him to a boner.

The music had ended, so he shifted his body around to check out the thinning crowd on the dance floor to see if there were any prospects.

“I figured sooner or later you’d come here.”

He went still upon recognizing that voice. There once was a time when just hearing it would arouse every male thing in him. Now it did nothing. All he felt was immediate repugnance. He slowly turned to look into the face of the woman sitting in the seat he’d asked Cheryl to vacate earlier. Ravena Boyle.

He met her gaze and felt something—instant repulsion. And while studying her features, he thought she’d undoubtedly had a hard life since he’d last seen her, which was close to five years ago. Her beauty had diminished, and he thought nothing abouther remained attractive. Her makeup was heavy. He could remember a time she hadn’t worn any at all.

“Ravena. I heard you were back in town.”

“And I heard you’d recovered from your injury. I’m happy for you.”

He picked up his beer to take another sip. “Are you? During our last conversation, you called me half of a man.”

“I want to apologize for that, Chancy.”

Hearing her say the pet name she’d always called him sent spikes of chills all through him. “The name is Chance,” he said through gritted teeth.

“I prefer Chancy.”

“Then don’t expect me to answer. And if you don’t mind, I need that seat kept vacant.”

“Why? Are you waiting for someone?”

“No. I’d rather not have you in it.”

She didn’t respond for a minute, then said, “Do you remember this is where we met? You were home on leave for a month. I saw you and used one hell of a pickup line to garner your interest. You even complimented me on how original it was. Then we had one hell of a time together. When you returned to Germany, we wrote to each other practically every day, and when you came home that Christmas, you asked me to marry you.”

He placed his beer down and stared hard at her. “That was the biggest mistake of my life.”

“People said you’ve changed. You aren’t the fun-loving man you used to be, and I regret my part in that.”

“No need to have regrets, Ravena. Walking out of my life was the best thing you ever could have done for me.”

He could tell she hadn’t liked his comment. “Then why are you so miserable?”

“Miserable? You think I’m miserable?”

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