Page 19 of Cherished Lands
The way his jaw clenched every time I walked past, how his fingers tightened around his whiskey glass when I leaned close to him in that booth—it was like he was fighting a war with himself. And losing. Spectacularly.
It was a damn delight to catch him staring at my ass when I got up to head back to Elena. I put a little extra sway in my hips as I walked away, just because I could. Because I knew those storm-blue eyes of his would track every movement.
Chase was in the booth across from Elena, laying on the charm thick enough to frost a cake. Poor guy was trying so hard. But Elena's polite smile wasn't reaching her eyes. Something was definitely off with my best friend tonight.
"Sorry, Chase. This one's married." Surprise flashed across hisface, and I noticed Elena's fingers twitch around her wine glass.
"That so?" he asked, eyebrows shooting up. Lena forced a smile. It looked painful, like she was holding back tears. "Well, I'll let you ladies get back to your evening. Nice to meet you, Elena. Tessa." Chase nodded as he rose. Lena's eyes followed him as he returned to the bar to take a seat next to Andy.
The usual Friday night crowd at Callaghan's created a comfortable bubble of noise around us. Someone had put Van Morrison on the jukebox, and the familiar strains of "Brown-Eyed Girl" filtered through the conversations and laughter.
"Alright, lady. Out with it. What's with the face?"
"What face?" She pointed at herself. "This face?"
I didn't miss the subtle tremor in her hand.
"That's the one. Beautiful though it may be, it's looking all sorts of sad. What's going on?"
She took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. "I'm leaving Peter."
My jaw dropped, and I stared at Elena in disbelief. Memories flooded my mind—their wedding where I'd been maid of honor, countless double dates, the housewarming party for their Victorian fixer-upper that Peter had restored himself. All those moments when I'd thought they were the perfect couple, the relationship I measured all others against.
"What?!"
Elena's eyes widened, and she held up her hands in a pleading gesture. "Please don't make a big deal out of this, Tess."
I scoffed, shaking my head. "I'd venture to say that leavingthe man you've been with for twelve yearsisa big deal, Lane." Now the abrupt ending of our FaceTime call made sense. The way she'd tensed at Peter's voice in the background. How long had this been building?
"Tessa." She gave me a warning look, but I wasn't backing down. Not about this.
"Elena." I matched her tone, raising an eyebrow.
All at once, her composure crumbled. Her lower lip trembled, and she averted her gaze. "I can't talk about it. Not yet."
The sight of my best friend in such distress softened my heart. I reached out and placed a gentle hand on her arm. "Okay. We don't have to talk about it if you don't want to."
"Thank you. Tonight, I just need to... forget for a little while. Can we do that?"
"Kai!" I shouted, catching the bartender's eye. He looked up from wiping the bar, one eyebrow raised. "Four shots of tequila!"
He gave a curt nod and started pouring. VeryKai. The man was like a sexy statue—all brooding silence and sculpted muscle. I watched with admiration as he lined up the shot glasses, his hands moving with practiced precision.
I could feel Elliot's eyes on me from across the bar. Andy and Chase were arguing about something—probably sports or tractors or whatever guys argued about. Elliot was pretending to listen, but I could tell he wasn't reallyhearingthem.
He was too focused on me.
I stretched slowly, arching my backslightlymore than necessary, and was rewarded with the sound of his glass hittingthe bar a little too hard. Without looking directly at him, I could picture his expression—that mixture of wanting and wariness that made heat flood my stomach.
Two could play this game, Mr. Everton. And when I played, I played to win.
Chapter Seven
ELLIOT
I wasin the middle of stacking crates when I heard the creak of the barn door. Tessa sauntered in, her fitted black sweater dress hugging every curve. The neckline dipped low, drawing my eyes to the swell of her breasts.
Fuck. Is she trying to kill me?
