Page 15 of All For You
Kasey Sinclair was a recently divorced bank teller. Despite how she appeared, with her hand wrapped possessively around Owen’s arm, she was extremely nice. Last year, she went through a nasty divorce with the sous chef at world-renowned chef Roland McEntire’s restaurant in town.
Like me, she was joining the dating pool again. Unlike me, she actually knew how to converse with men.
Chiming in after taking a deep sip of her drink, she said, “I don’t think he’s interested.”
My brows pinched together as I asked, “What makes you say that?”
“Because in the mirror, he’s staring at you. Only I can’t decide if he’s plotting your demise, like always, or if he’s appreciating you.”
Giggling, I set my beer down and replied, “Definitely plotting my demise. It’s our MO, after all.”
“Things change.” She shrugged, one strap of her sundress slipping down her shoulder, and she pushed it up as she stood. “I need to use the restroom. Order me another?”
“Sure.”
Failing in my attempt tonotwatch Tryston play pool with his friends, I locked eyes with him once, then I immediately glanced away. Just in time for Owen to slip into my line of sight.
My eyes rolled automatically. It was a reaction I conditioned myself to have in his presence many, many years ago.
“Hi, cricket,” he said despondently. It was a tone I’d never heard from him before, and it made me curious. We didn’tpart on good terms earlier, but I assumed by now that he would be back to his cocky old self.
Despite that change, I sneered at him. “Don’t call me that.”
“What else should I call you?” he asked as he took the vacant seat.
“I don’t know, Owen. Maybe my actual name?”
He pursed his lips, and I assumed he was considering my request. “Nah. I think I’ll keep calling you cricket.”
“Whatever,” I mumbled as I took a sip of my beer and turned my gaze back up to the bar. Kasey leaned her lithe frame against the bar top, narrowing her eyes in my direction. I was fairly certain if I walked outside right now, she’d follow me and have me shanked. Nervous from that thought, I begrudgingly turned my attention back to Owen, whose eyes were glued to me.
I shifted in my seat. “You know, my friend will be back soon.”
Leaning back in the chair, Owen replied, “I know. I don’t think she’ll mind if I’m here. We can always drag over another chair.”
I almost spit out my beer at his arrogance. “Owen, you want to sit here, in the bar, with me and Jenna?”
“Jenna Tipson? I knew she looked familiar. I played ball with her older brother.”
“Yes, I remember. Now, why do you want to sit with us?”
“Well…,” he began, just as a woman sauntered over and slipped him her number.
My jaw unhinged as I watched her casually slink her fingers across his shoulder in her retreat.
She was the first but not the last.
In the time we sat waiting for Jenna’s return, women vying for his attention approached him four more times. And, as usual, I was completely invisible to them all.
Thankfully, Jenna appeared from the hallway, chatting with a guy. That would explain what took her so long, while I had the “pleasure” of watching Owen’s own dating show unfold before me.
“Does that get tiring?” I asked him after the fifth woman left.
“Until recently, it wasn’t really a problem. My fiancée… well, ex-fiancée, always booked us private booths. Sometimes at games we get approached, but… yeah… I mean….” Owen’s usually confident demeanor slipped, and I noticed the redness growing on his tan cheeks.
“Anyway, is there something you needed?” I asked, trying to get him to leave the table. The whispers were growing louder with each passing second, and there was already a group forming near the entrance to catch a glimpse oftheOwen Ramsey. I almost wished the town wasn’t growing like weeds. If we were in the bar with the people we grew up with, no one here would care much that Owen was back in Ashfield. They’d be more concerned that we were seated together.
Just that thought left me snickering. I covered my mouth with my hand but didn’t miss the way Owen’s eyes followed the movement.
