Page 17 of A Second Chance

Great, an audience for this conversation. “No. I just met her.”

“Then there’s a man in her past that caused it. Happens all the time.”

“You think so?” he asked.

“Without a doubt,” Hannah said. “It’s like what happened with Rebecca.”

“What about Rebecca?” Weasel sat his beer on the table and pulled off his White Oak PD windbreaker. Probably his imagination, but the people at the next table went quiet.

“That it took Rebecca a long time to trust you cause of Kyle.”

It sounded logical, but having known Weasel in his wild days, there was a laundry list of reasons.

“Sure,” Weasel replied. “But I won her over, easy.”

“Bullshit,” Dan laughed. “You chased her for over a year.”

“Nothing about that was easy,” Hannah said, and turned up her beer. “And then they started sleeping together and didn’t tell anyone.”

“That was nobody’s business,” Weasel said. “And yeah, it took longer than I wanted, but she’s worth the wait.” The entire table made the aw sound and Weasel frowned. “All right, that’s enough from the peanut gallery.”

“Where is Rebecca?” Jason asked.

“There’s an event at Huntington tonight and she’s working… and so is your sister,” Weasel said.

“I knew Autumn wasn’t here,” Jason replied.

“Anyway,” Hannah interrupted, “who doesn’t trust you?”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” he said, standing. “Who needs a refill?” Jason turned away from Hannah’s protest and ran straight into a soft little body. The woman shielded the impact of his chest with her forearms. “Woah, sorry… are you all right?” he asked stepping back, holding her shoulders.

Gwen, shaking off the impact, scowled up at him with a startled annoyance. “I’m fine, sorry… I didn’t see you.”

He ran his hands down her arms. “Want something to drink? I’m headed to the bar.”

She smiled sweetly. “I’ll take a mojito.”

Jason nodded. He wasn’t familiar with that, but he was sure he’d end up ordering a girlie drink with skewers of fruit and an umbrella. Secure enough in his masculinity that he didn’t hesitate and flagged down the bartender, Barry, and ordered a mojito and a club soda with lime.

The drink Barry placed on the bar top didn’t look as girlie as he feared. There were mint sprigs sticking out of the top, but it could have been worse. Jason slid into the booth seat right up against Gwen’s leg and sat the cup in front of her. She didn’t move, but mumbled a thanks and stirred the little straw around the drink.

“Who knows how it’s gonna go,” Weasel said with a sigh.

“What?” Jason asked, but still paying attention to that Gwen had appeared to stop breathing.

Weasel hung his head. “My mother-in-law is coming for a visit.”

“I take it that’s not good.”

“Well, she despises me, and I’ve never even met her.” He took a long swig of beer.

“That sounds familiar,” Jason muttered. Next to him, Gwen choked on her drink and coughed. He patted her on the back. “Are you okay?”

“Fine… fine,” she replied, after the coughing fit subsided.

“Wrong pipe?” Jason asked.

She glared at him. “Something like that.”

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