by Kate Stacy
When we walk in, I look around in awe. It’s fancier than what I’d imagined, considering they bought out and expanded the old firehouse. It has a kind of upscale country vibe. Wood, stone, and leather. Hardwood floors, exposed ceiling beams, more spacious than it appeared from outside.
The actual bar sits in front of a wall of alcohol and glassware, taking up the majority of the left side of the space. Stools line half of the bar top, the back wall is lined with tables with booths, and high-top tables surround the small stage that sits opposite the bar.
As we make our way toward the table in the back that Holden told me is reserved for family and friends, I introduce David to some old friends. I’m so distracted that it takes me awhile to notice the man watching me from the bar. When I do, our eyes lock from across the room. In my shock, I stumble before stopping completely, causing David to bump into me from behind. I quickly try to shake off the surprise. I don’t want David asking questions.
He knows very little about my past. He knows I’ve only had one other relationship, one that lasted through high school before we went our separate ways. He also knows I was dealing with that breakup when we met. He doesn’t know the details. Not about Jaxson. Not about the baby.
I quickly look away from the bar, ensuring David that I’m fine. We finally reach the table, but I feel Jaxson’s eyes boring into me the entire time. I sit facing away from the bar so I don’t have to look at him. Holden shows up a few minutes later and greets us happily, taking a seat next to me.
“Let me just grab a waitress,” he says, looking around.
David stops him, insisting he’ll grab our drinks. He excuses himself, leaving me alone with my brother. I don’t waste time.
“What the hell, Holden?!”
His head jerks quickly to look at me. “What?”
“Don’t play stupid. Why is he here? How could you not tell me he works here? That he’d be working here tonight?”
I glare at him hard. I don’t get mad at my brother often, but I’m really pissed that I’ve been blindsided with this.
“Watch your attitude, Mads.” He hits me with a glare of his own. “You’re not gonna sit here and disrespect me after everything I’ve done for you.”
My face softens. He’s right. “I’m sorry.”
He nods. “Now, if you hadn’t spent the last two years cursing anytime someone speaks his name, I would have told you. In fact, I tried to tell you several times, but at first mention of his name, you hung up on me and didn’t answer or return my calls for weeks.”
My eyes squeeze shut. I’ve been horrible. Not only to him, but to everyone.
“I’m sorry, Holden. I’ve been such a selfish bitch. Cami was spot on with that assessment.”
“Maybe a little bit,” he says, holding up his thumb and index finger just barely apart. He laughs, bumping his shoulder into mine. “But, you did what you felt you needed to do. Can’t change it, so just move forward.”
My head tilts in acceptance of his words.
“Now, if you’re ready to listen—I’ll explain.” He continues when I don’t protest. “The bar was Jaxson’s idea, his baby.” He cringes when he realizes what he said, but I wave him off. “I bought in and helped make his vision a reality. We’re equal partners.”
My mouth opens in shock, but before I can speak, he stops me.
“I’ve done everything you’ve asked, but I stand by my belief that he did nothing wrong. You may not want him in your life and that’s your choice, but he’s still one of my best friends and one hell of a business partner. You’ll have to come to terms with that.”
I start to reply, but notice David making his way back to the table.
“We’ll talk more later. David doesn’t know.” I whisper quickly.
He gives me a knowing look, but nods. He accepts his drink from David, thanking him.
“No problem,” he says as he hands me my drink. “What did I miss?”
“Just catching up with my brother,” I reply, smiling.
He glances back and forth between the two of us before nodding and turning the conversation to the bar. After asking what seemed like a million questions about Blackwood Brewhouse, we chat about school, the wedding, and our future plans.
Awhile later, David volunteers me to get the next round of drinks from the bar. Holden, sensing my hesitation and unease, offers to flag down a waitress.
“No need. Madalyn can handle it.” He winks, tilting his head toward the bar.
I stand, silently giving into his demand. Excusing myself, I make my way to the bar and wait.
Jaxson sees me instantly, holding up a finger indicating I should wait.
I don’t stop my eyes from wandering over his form, soaking up the sight of him.
He hasn’t changed much in the last two years.
He stands more than half a foot taller than my 5’7” frame. Strong jaw lined with more than a few days of scruff. He always did hate shaving. I bet his hair is cropped short under the baseball cap he’s never without.
He’s bigger now, more built than he was before. The muscles in his arms and shoulders flex and contract as he slings drinks behind the bar. His thick, muscular thighs are encased by a pair of tight blue jeans. My eyes wander to his ass as he leans over the bar top. Damn. Tight, round, and oh so bitable.
Shit. I shake off my thoughts. I shouldn’t be thinking of him like that. Not anymore.
He turns to me, motioning to the very end of the bar and moves that way. I have no choice but to follow.
“It’s good to see you.” His hazel eyes, bright and full of heat, roam my body.
The intensity in his gaze makes me squirm. “Hi, Jax.”
“Two years and that’s all I get? Hi?” He chuckles humorlessly and shakes his head, brows furrowed.
I shrug a shoulder, “I don’t know what you want me to say.”
He stares at me momentarily, then starts making our drinks without me ordering. He pushes them across the bar top without speaking. As I’m reaching out to hand him the money, he grabs my arm. His grip is rough, fingers digging into my skin. It takes a minute to register what’s happening, but when I do, I pull my arm back quickly.
“You’re engaged.” His voice is low, hoarse, angry. “You walk away from me without a word. Without telling me about our baby…”
I flinch. I’m not used to hearing this anger from him. Not toward me.
He continues, “and you come back with someone else’s ring on your finger?”
Jax takes a step back, turning away from me as his hands tug at his hair. He growls, turning to face me again.
“What the fuck, Madalyn? You were supposed to come back to me. You were supposed to come back so we could be together just like we always planned. We were meant for each other. You’re the one that told me that!”
I stay silent, motionless.
“You walked away like I meant nothing to you. No goodbye...” He inhales deeply, eyes closed tight, tugging at his hair again as he shakes his head. He stops to look at me. The pain in his eyes threatens to bring me to my knees. “I never stood a fuckin’ chance, did I, baby?”
I’m pinned by his stare. His eyes are full of tears, while mine threaten to spill.
“Jax, I…”
“It’s true, isn’t it? I meant nothing.”
I inhale sharply. “No! It wasn’t like that, Jax. I loved—”
“Loved?! I still love you. I’ve spent the last two years getting my life together...for us...but now…”
He stops. I can see the devastation in his eyes. I don’t know what to say. There’s nothing I can say. Not now.
He grabs my hand, his thumb rubbing back and forth over the ring.
“Please, baby. It’s not too late for us. I know it’s my fault. I didn’t protect you and I’m so fucking sorry. I was selfish, but I’ll never let you down again. Please.”
“I—I don’t know what you want from me, Jaxson.”
Tears spill down my cheeks. I didn’t kno
w what to expect when I ran into him again, but it wasn’t this. I’ve never seen Jaxson look so...broken. I did this to him.
“You, Madalyn. I want you. Say you won’t marry him. Come back to me. Please.”
This. This moment.
The hope in his eyes.
Oh, God.
My breath catches in my chest.
Breathe in. Breathe out.
I watch him watching me, my eyes moving back and forth between his. I’ve done so much damage to this man. The words that leave my lips will only hurt him more. Cause irreparable damage. It doesn’t stop me from uttering them.
“That’s not possible, Jaxson. I’m in love with David and we’re getting married soon. He’s the one I want to spend my life with. I let go of you two years ago. There’s no going back.”
I watch as the last shreds of his hope vanish before my eyes. His eyes turn hard and cold. His jaw tightens, his expression going blank. He doesn’t speak, just nods and turns away.
I wipe my eyes, steeling my expression before grabbing the drinks and heading back to the table. David is alone, messing with his phone. He looks up as I slide into the booth.
“Where’s my brother?”
He looks at me, a hint of anger flashes in his eyes before it disappears. “One of the waitresses needed him for something.”
“Oh. I’m not feeling too great. Do you mind if we head out?”
He studies me, curiously. I hope I’m not giving anything away. I don’t want him asking any questions. I know that I should tell him more about Jaxson and my past, especially since he agreed to live here, but it’s just not something I want to talk about.
Without answering, he stands, extending his arm to help me up. “Let’s get home then, sweetheart.”
We abandon the drinks at the table, and he wraps his arm around me as we head for the exit.
“Who’s that?”
I look up, following his line of sight. Jaxson is standing with his arms across his chest, staring at us with an indecipherable expression on his face.
Tears burn in my eyes and my stomach churns when I reply, “No one important. Just somebody I used to know.”
Slinging drinks is one of my favorite parts of owning a bar.
Sure, I could hire a couple more bartenders, work fewer hours, and keep myself behind the scenes. But where’s the fun in that?
I love being behind the bar. Mixing drinks. Talking to regulars. Meeting new people every night. There’s never a dull moment. Watching people enjoy themselves in a place of my design and creation is pretty fucking special.
The atmosphere in the Brewhouse is good for my soul, I swear. Since Madalyn walked away from me, life has just been a string of days to get through. This place, this bar...it’s been my lifeline.
Some nights are more chill and laid back. Others, the energy is amped, and the crowd gets loud. I live for those nights. The nights when we hit maximum capacity and I can barely hear myself over the chatter, laughter, and music. I find peace in the chaos.
I’ve never been one to enjoy being alone. Not that I can’t appreciate my own company and quiet—I can. But I prefer to be surrounded by people. It’s where I’m in my element.
I’m mixing a batch of Cosmos for a bachelorette party when the energy in the bar shifts. Nothing actually happens as far as I can tell. Everyone is still talking, still laughing, still having a good time. No, nothing tangible to explain the rush of tension and negativity that sweeps over me. Not at first.
I glance around, seeing nothing to explain the change. I shake it off.
Finishing up the drinks, I pass them off to the bride’s sister. She introduced herself earlier, but I’ll be damned if I remember her name now. She thanks me with a flirty smile and a wink before rejoining her group. They greet her with a loud cheer that has me laughing.
I turn to the next customer, but something catches my eye. As I’m asking the girl what she’ll have, I watch as Madalyn’s new husband struts his uptight ass into my bar.
I involuntarily tense. I was really hoping not to see the happy couple for a while. I knew it would be impossible in a small town like Blackwood, but I figured they’d at least avoid my bar. I brace myself, expecting to see her follow him through the door, but she doesn’t.
The fuck? I watch as he postures, puffing up his chest and looking me dead in the eye. He heads straight to the bar, orders a drink from Noah, and continues to stare me down. Huh. Someone must have told him who I am. It was obvious he had no idea the last time they were here.
Not sure what the stare down is about. I’m the ex. He won. He got my girl.
I’m even more curious as to why he’s in my bar alone less than two weeks after getting married. Where is Mads?
Something must be seriously wrong with this guy. If I had my ring on Madalyn’s finger, I’d have her at my side. Always. I damn sure wouldn’t be spending my nights holed up at the ex-boyfriend’s bar without her.
Fuck it. I don’t even know what I’m thinking. Don’t know why I care. It’s not my business. I don’t have a place in her life anymore. She made sure of that.
I turn away from him and continue pouring drinks for my patrons. It’s a Thursday night and while we’re not slam packed, we’re not having a slow night. Business is still booming. There’s a steady flow of people to and from the bar. My entire staff is busy, constantly on the move.
I watch as my waitresses deliver drinks and food—all perky attitudes and pretty smiles. I found that people really enjoy being able to order food with their drinks. Makes customers happy. Puts more money in my pockets. Win-win.
The building the Brewhouse is housed in used to be a firehouse, so it came equipped with a decent sized kitchen. I could have gutted it with the rest of the building, but something told me to leave it. I gave it a few upgrades, though. Turned out to be a smart move. Right now, we only serve appetizer type foods, but I’d like to eventually expand a bit and maybe add a full menu.
But that’s a thought for another time.
Especially when my gaze drifts over to the douchebag just in time to see him grab Zoey’s arm. I wait a second before reacting. I watch to gauge the situation. But all bets are off when I see her try to pull away and he won’t release her.
My eyes quickly dart to Noah’s. He nods, fury blazing in his eyes. He saw it, too.
I’m there in seconds, placing my tall, muscular frame at Zoey’s back.
“Let go of her arm. Now.” My voice is deep, rough. I’m barely containing my anger.
His eyes shoot up to mine and the asshole smirks. He releases her and she backs up, her body coming into contact with mine. I put my hands on her shoulders and pull her further into me. It’s a protective gesture and she realizes it because I can feel the tension drain from her body.
My eyes stay locked on the douchebag, but I lean down close to her ear.
“You okay?” I whisper.
She turns her face toward mine and gives me a clipped nod.
“Good,” I tell her. “Go to Noah. I’ll be with you soon.”
Another quick nod and I watch as she scurries behind the bar to where Noah waits. He pulls her behind him and says something to her quickly before turning back to me, arms crossed over his chest. His way of telling me he’s got my back, if I need him.
I don’t. Not for this.
Turning all of my attention back to Douchebag—I’ve decided that’s his new name—I lose just a little bit of my calm.
“I’m gonna need you to keep your hands off my staff. Off any unwilling person, actually.”
He rolls his eyes, scoffing like a petulant teenager.
“This is your one and only warning. Keep your hands to yourself or you can leave my bar. I won’t have you assaulting people in my place of business.”
His brow raises and that arrogant fucking smirk makes another appearance.
Finally, he speaks, “Oh? So you don’t like when people put their hands on your property either. We have that in common.”
<
br /> I work to keep my face a stern mask, but there is so much wrong with what he just said, I don’t even know where to start. I may not have been interested in college, but I’m not a stupid man. Obviously, he’s insinuating that I’ve had hands on Madalyn, but that couldn’t be any further from the truth. As for referring to women as property, well...that’s all types of fucked up. My hatred for this stupid fuck just went up a few levels.
“One. Zoey isn’t anyone’s property. No woman belongs to any man.” Inhaling deeply, I remind myself to stay calm. As much as I want to, I cannot punch this guy in the fucking throat. “However, she is my employee, so her well-being is my responsibility. I will not have you, or anyone else, come into my bar and endanger my staff or patrons by putting hands on them.”
His jaw tenses and ticks, but he says nothing, so I continue.
“Two. If you want to accuse me of something, you should man up and say it.”
I wait. I know we’re drawing a crowd. There are several people lingering nearby to watch and see what goes down.
“If that’s how you want it.” His head dips down before his stare meets mine again. The look in his eyes is downright menacing, but I’m not afraid of him.
“You need to stay the fuck away from my wife.”
That’s exactly what I thought. What I don’t understand is what put this idea in his head.
I’ve seen Madalyn exactly two times since she’s been back in Blackwood. He was with her both times. The first was the night here in this very bar where she trampled all over my heart. The second was when she slid a ring onto this asshole’s finger and promised herself to him for life.
Before I can respond to him, he takes it one step further. One step way too fucking far.
“Madalyn is mine. She has my ring on her finger. My last name. She’s in my fucking bed every night. Riding my dick. Screaming my name when she comes.”
He thumps his fist to his chest every time he says “my” like she’s a possession. That’s obviously how he views her. He’s not finished, though. Not yet.