Page 18 of Broken Daddy
“Want another?” the old bartender asked him. He looked to be in his late sixties with a long, gray beard and thinning hair. He might be older, but he still appeared fit. And he’d been watching Hayes ever since he’d spoken to Devi.
That had been stupid. He should have just stayed away from her. Hell, when he’d realized that she was here he should have walked back out the door.
But he did like to torture himself.
And watching her stumble around without interfering was . . . painful.
“No thanks.” He put down a bill that more than covered the beer and tip.
“I’ll get your change,” Mac said.
“Don’t bother. Give it to her as a tip.” He nodded over at Devi.
For fuck’s sake.
What was he doing?
It was just because he was worried about her state of finances. That was all. Nothing more.
Her clothes were clearly worn and hung off her frame. Her shoes were scuffed and old. And she was working two jobs yet didn’t seem to be eating enough.
He’d do the same for anyone.
No, you wouldn’t. You haven’t cared about anyone this much since May.
Which is exactly why he had to stay away.
“You interested in Devi?” the old man asked bluntly.
Hayes met his gaze, letting the other man see the coldness in his eyes. The emptiness.
He knew it was there, he saw it every morning when he looked in the mirror. He made himself look. It wasn’t easy, but it was a penance.
He’d lost her. It was his fault.
And now he had to see that pain in his eyes in the mirror. To accept it as his due.
The bartender actually winced.
“No.”
It was all he said before he got up and left the bar.
4
“You’re not Hayes.”
Oh my God. Had she really just said that? Devi winced as she stared up at the handsome guy accompanying Sondra this morning.
Hayes had left the Elk Horn Tavern last night before she’d worked up the courage to speak to him. Sitting at the bar meant that she didn’t need to serve him. But all night she’d thought up reasons to go speak to him.
However, she’d waited too long and when she’d finally worked up the courage, he’d been gone.
But she’d figured she’d see him this morning at Aaron’s Café. Such an original name. Only, this guy wasn’t Hayes.
He was younger, his dark hair wasn’t interspersed with gray and his face didn’t show his years. Maybe because he was actually smiling. He appeared far friendlier and more approachable.
But he wasn’t Mr. Tragic Eyes.
