Don't Say Goodbye (Taphouse Blues Book 2)

by Heather Lyn

  “Yeah.”

  “Your mother wanted you to have the money to start over. She saw you spend years of your life beaten down and unhappy. I know losing her hurt you, and to be honest, it hurt me too. She wasn’t just someone who I helped legally. She was my friend. And I’m certain she’d hate to know the tools she left you weren’t being used.”

  “I know.”

  “Just think about it, okay? I’ll check on you in a couple weeks.”

  “Bye.”

  Ending the call, I blow out a breath and brush away the few tears that fell. Pushing off the chair, I stroll to the bathroom and check to make sure that the little makeup I put on isn’t ruined. Glancing at the time, I see I need to leave for my interview. I was told it would only take about fifteen minutes to get there, but I want to make sure I’m not late.

  Grabbing my purse, I sling it over my shoulder and head down to my car, my mom’s used Honda. Glancing at the paper I wrote the directions on, I buckle up and take a deep breath.

  Here goes nothing.

  §

  Twenty minutes later, I pull into the small parking lot of Walker’s Taphouse. The drive was easy and I never missed a turn. Parking next to a large truck, I climb from my car and brush off my clothes, hoping I look good enough.

  Locking the doors, I drop my keys into my purse and head inside. The main door is unlocked and I push it open, stepping inside to the bar. I imagine it looks different at night, but at the moment it’s barely lit, only a few overhead lights on above the bar top.

  Looking around, I don’t see anyone.

  “Hello?” I call out.

  “We’re closed!” a deep voice shouts.

  “Oh no, I’m not here for a drink or anything. I’m Nacole Ward. I have an interview.” My voice is quiet and I begin wringing my hands together, worried I’m too early.

  Silence.

  “I can… I can go.” My nerves and anxiety get the best of me and I turn to leave, knowing this was a bad idea. I’m clearly not ready to be around people or work full-time yet.

  As I move to the door, I hear loud footsteps and I brace myself.

  “No, wait. Sorry. I’m sorry.”

  Turning back toward the voice, I find a man who looks to be in his early thirties, light brown hair styled into some sort of fauxhawk, his deep brown eyes trained right on me.

  “I’m Brody Walker, owner of the place. You’re a little early, so I was trying to get some paperwork done beforehand. I didn’t mean to be rude.”

  He holds his hand out to me and slowly I take it.

  “That’s okay. I can go hang out in my car until you’re ready,” I offer, folding my arms across my stomach.

  “Oh God no. Come into my office. We can go ahead and start now.”

  With a kind smile, he holds an arm out to lead the way, and I hesitantly follow him into his office. I take a seat in the chair set up in front of his desk and cross my legs, palms sweaty. Brody drops into his own chair and leans his elbows on the desk, fingers toying with his shiny wedding band. My eyes follow his ministrations and he notices his actions.

  “Sorry. I’m still getting used to it,” he says, smile growing wider by the second.

  “Oh?”

  “Got married only a month ago. That’s my wife, Lindsey.” He points at a small photograph on his desk, a beautiful blonde smiling at the camera, Brody kissing her cheek in it.

  “She’s beautiful,” I say, looking back at Brody.

  “She is. I’m a lucky son of a bitch. Are you married?”

  I don’t even hesitate. “No, I’m not.”

  Lying. Great way to start an interview. But it’s the only way to protect myself.

  “One day,” he jokes, reaching over for a manila folder. Removing the application I filled out earlier in the week, he places it in front of him. “So, Nacole Ward, tell me about yourself.”

  “Not much to tell,” I say, wringing my hands together again.

  “Says here you’re from California. Whereabouts?”

  San Diego.

  “Santa Barbara,” I lie again. I doubt he’ll go digging into my background, but I don’t need to give him any reason to accidentally stumble upon Graham.

  “Always wanted to go there.”

  “It’s beautiful. You should.”

  Brody nods, scanning the sheet in front of him. “Duly noted. So, what brings you all the way to Nashville?”

  His words have the past six months flashing through my brain. The last time Graham took his rage out on me. My mother. I barely notice the tears filling my eyes until I look up and see the concern in Brody’s.

  “A fresh start,” I whisper. He offers me a box of tissues and I gratefully take it. “Sorry, it’s just been a hard few months. I lost my mom unexpectedly back in January, and I just needed to get away. Start over.”

  Brody’s eyes soften, and he gives me a sad smile. “I’m very sorry to hear that.”

  “Thank you.”

  With a nod, Brody steers the conversation back to the interview, and I’m grateful.

  “I’ll cut to the chase, Nacole. When you came in and filled out the application, my bartender, Nate, knew you would be a good fit. He has a way of reading people. You’re the only person interested in the job, and I like you.”

  “Seriously?” I just bawled all over his desk and he’s telling me I have the job.

  “Seriously. I know it’s listed as a full-time job, but you can set when you work. Weekends will be best for tips, and since this place is small, we only have one other waitress, Caroline. She’s been here since the beginning and she’s amazing. She’ll make sure you’re taken care of. Pay is ten an hour, plus tips. I know most places pay shit for waitressing, but I refuse to pay anyone below that. Maybe that’s why it took a couple years for this place to take off.”

  “Thank you. Really, I appreciate this so much.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  We both stand from our seats, and Brody reaches out to shake my hand. “Welcome to Nashville, Nacole. Looking forward to getting to know you.”

  With a smile, I offer him a soft “Thank you” and turn to leave. It’s not until I’m safely in my car with the doors locked that I let my head fall to the steering wheel, tears coursing down my cheeks. Guilt and excitement take over my heart. I hate knowing I couldn’t be fully truthful with Brody, but I can’t chance Graham finding me. If he does, he’ll make sure I’m back where he thinks I belong, by his crooked and abusive side.

  But I relish this chance.

  The chance to finally start over and find myself again.

  To take my life back and live for me and only me.

  Nobody will ever dictate what I do. Nobody will control my thoughts, my desires, or my happiness ever again.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Garret

  “You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you…”

  Cuffing the arrogant bastard in front of me, I walk him over to the squad car. As I finish reading him his rights, I cup his head and shove him into the back seat. Groaning, I turn to my partner, Jace, who is standing at the back of the suspect’s car.

  “You believe that shit?” he says, anger all over his face.

  “Blew twice the legal limit and had the balls to say he hadn’t been drinking.”

  “Could’ve killed someone.” Jace shakes his head, then strolls over to the open door and slams it shut. As cops, we see insane shit every day, but someone driving drunk is still the one thing that gets both of our tempers flared. Stupidest fucking thing anyone could ever do.

  Twenty minutes later, we’re almost back to the station, Jace steering the car in silence. We’re at the end of a long-ass shift, and all I can think about is getting home, taking a hot-as-hell shower and grabbing a greasy burger for dinner. Tomorrow is my day off, and I plan on taking advantage of it.

  “Wanna grab a burger tonight?” I ask.

  “Brody’s?”

  “Sure. Or we could hit th
at new diner on Sheffield.”

  “Whatever you want, man.”

  An hour later, I’m in the locker room changing into street clothes. Heading out, I fist-bump Jace and tell him to meet me at Walker’s in an hour. He agrees and I walk out of the station, stopping at my desk on the way. Seeing I have no messages waiting for me, I head out to my Jeep, tossing my shit in the back seat.

  Cranking the engine, I roar out of the parking lot, quickly eating up the two miles to my house. As I turn in the driveway, my phone vibrates in my pocket. Taking it out, I kill the engine and pull the keys from the ignition. Looking at my phone, I see a text from my brother.

  Brody: Mom just called. BBQ at their place tomorrow. Noon.

  Garret: Roger that. You at work tonight?

  Brody: Nah, Nate’s there. Taking my wife to dinner.

  Garret: Say hi to Linds for me.

  Brody: Will do, bro.

  Locking my phone, I climb from my vehicle and grab my duffel, swinging up the front steps. Shutting the door behind me, I toss my stuff into the laundry room and head straight for my bathroom. Turning the shower on, I wait for the water to heat up as I stare at my reflection in the mirror. I know I should probably shave, but I don’t feel like it. I just want to get going.

  When the water’s ready, I strip and climb in, the hot spray feeling amazing against my sore body. Twelve hours and we barely did anything. The arrest earlier was the only one we had; otherwise, it was mostly just a bunch of driving around and only a few calls. A surprisingly quiet Saturday shift, and I’m glad it’s over.

  Now it’s time for more important things.

  Like food.

  §

  “Garret!”

  Coming around the side of my parents’ house, my sister in-law Lindsey comes rushing over to me, throwing her arms around my neck to hug me tight. Chuckling, I squeeze her hard and pull away with a smile.

  “Hey, Linds.”

  “You mind keeping those paws off my wife, asshole?” Brody greets, coming to loop his arms around Lindsey’s shoulders, pressing a kiss to her head.

  “Oh please. Not her fault she didn’t get the hot Walker,” I tease, reaching out to smack my little brother on the head. He laughs and we all walk over to the outdoor table and chairs my mom has set up.

  “Garret, honey, there you are.” Mom stands from the table to kiss me and I wrap my arms tight around her, smiling when she lets out an “Oof.”

  “Hey, Momma.”

  I’m thirty-three years old and my mom is still the only woman in my life. I love the hell out of her, and she knows we’re all crazy about her. And boy, does she use that to her advantage.

  We take our seats at the table, and she looks at me with a smile. “How’s work?”

  “Can’t complain. Busy as always.”

  “How’s Jace?” she asks, grabbing a pitcher filled with her homemade lemonade and pouring me a glass. I take it and chug half of it in a couple sips.

  “He’s good. He was gonna come with me, but Drew needed his help at the shop.”

  “Next time,” she says, looking up when Dad walks outside.

  “Garret, good to see you, son.” He claps me on the shoulder and I nod.

  “Hey, Dad.”

  He sets the platter in his hands loaded with burgers and hot dogs next to the grill and looks around. “Ready to eat?” he asks, firing up the grill a moment later.

  “Hell yes,” I reply, finishing my lemonade.

  Lindsey laughs and I look over at her. “What?”

  “Between you and Brody, I’m not sure how your parents didn’t go broke trying to feed you. Brody was just eating a sandwich before we left to come here.”

  “Hey, I’m a growing boy, what can I say?” Brody laughs.

  “Yeah, growing boy. It’s a shame you never grew to your full height,” I throw back.

  “Fuck you, man.”

  “I’m good, but thanks.”

  “Oh, would you boys please grow up,” Mom says, shaking her head at our bickering.

  “If we haven’t by now, we never will,” I tell her with a wink.

  Brody starts cracking up, and Mom shakes her head with a smile.

  Leaning back in my chair, I look up to see my dad disappear into the house, returning a minute later with beers. He hands one to me, and I take it and twist the top off.

  “So, I kind of have some news,” I announce, and Mom looks at me with a huge grin.

  “You met someone?”

  I choke out a laugh. “Uh, no. No I did not, Mom.”

  “Hell hasn’t frozen over, so that’s not possible,” Brody chimes in.

  “I’ve decided to take the detective’s exam in a couple of months,” I share.

  “Oh, Garret, I think that’s a wonderful idea, honey.”

  “Thanks, Momma.”

  “Fuck yeah, bro.” Brody stands up and comes around the table. I stand as well and he gives me a fast hug, smacking me hard on the back.

  “Thanks, man.”

  “You and Jace have been riding together for ten years now. How does he feel about it?” Brody asks.

  Taking a pull from my beer, I set it down in front of me. “You know how he is. He loves being a cop. I think he wants to move up, but he just really loves what he’s doing. Jace isn’t ready, but I am. We talked about it last night when we went to get dinner, and I have his support 100 percent.”

  “Glad to hear it,” Dad says, lifting the lid to start loading the grill.

  “Need any help?” I ask. When he nods, I stand up and move over to him, holding out a hand for the platter of food.

  It’s not much longer before we’re all digging into the food and chattering about random things, enjoying the meal but mostly the company.

  §

  A week later, I find myself sharing a table at my brother’s bar with Jace and Lindsey, Brody tending the bar. It’s a Friday night, so the place is crawling with people.

  Reaching for the pitcher of Bud in the center of the table, I pour myself another beer and lean back. I gotta hand it to my little brother. When he opened this place years ago, we were all worried he’d drown under the pressure in a city like Nashville. But he’s done damn good for himself, and I couldn’t be prouder of the guy.

  “How’s the hospital, Linds?” Jace asks, taking a sip of his water.

  “It’s good. Been working a ton of overtime, which is great for the bank but bad for my personal life. I’m exhausted, but they just hired three new nurses, so it should be slowing down soon.”

  “That’s good. How’s Hollie doing?” I ask.

  “Hollie is Hollie. Still too loud and obnoxious, still the best friend I’ve ever had.” Lindsey laughs and takes a sip of her wine. She opens her mouth to say something else, but a crash behind us has me turning around.

  A young woman is on her hands and knees, trying to clean up a spilled beer, shattered glass everywhere. Lindsey hops up from the table and rushes over to help, giving the woman a smile.

  Turning back to Jace, I find Brody walking over, a tense look on his face. “She okay?” he asks, wiping his hands on a rag.

  “Who, Lindsey?”

  He shakes his head. “No, Nacole. My new waitress.” He points to the woman Lindsey is helping. It’s only then that I notice the gray Walker’s T-shirt on her tiny frame.

  She stands up a second later, brushing off her black shorts. I can’t see her face, but her dark brown hair is in some sort of bun on top of her head, strands falling in her face. When she raises her head, I see dark brown eyes and a full mouth.

  I don’t even realize I’m staring at her until Brody clears his throat.

  “Sorry, what?”

  Brody laughs at me, and Jace shakes his head.

  “Earth to Garret.”

  “Who is she?” I ask, not even bothering to hide my interest.

  “Nacole Ward. I hired her last week. She just moved here from Santa Barbara.”

  “Uh-huh.” I’m not even paying attention. Her name was
the only thing that registered out of my brother’s mouth, my attention back on her. She’s shorter than Lindsey, with curves in all the right places. When she gives Lindsey a small smile, her teeth are white and straight. She bends over to pick up the tray she was using, granting me full view of her ass, and I groan, my dick coming to life in my pants.

  “Garret, for fuck’s sake, man. Did you even hear what I said?” Brody waves in my face, laughing when I still don’t turn around. I’m too captivated by this brunette beauty in front of me. I have no idea what it is about her, but I’m completely drawn to her.

  I’m caught a minute later when Nacole’s eyes catch mine, and I wink at her. Her cheeks darken and she turns on her heel, rushing back to the kitchen. Shaking my head, I turn back to my brother and Jace, rolling my eyes when they both start laughing at me.

  “Damn, man. You didn’t even say a word and she ran from you. That’s a new record.” Jace slaps me on the shoulder and I shrug him off.

  “Aw, it’s okay, bro. Maybe you can work your Walker charm and get a date out of her,” Brody suggests, walking back over to the bar to help a new patron.

  Lindsey comes back over to the table a few minutes later, completely unaware of my newfound interest in Nacole. But I find myself looking over Nacole’s way every chance I get. I want to know her story, and one way or another, I’m gonna find out what it is.

  Hours later, we’re leaving the bar and heading out to Jace’s truck when I bump into someone. Looking to my side, I see Nacole standing there, a to-go bag in her hand.

  “Sorry,” she whispers, rushing ahead of us and out of the bar, climbing into an old Honda and she pulls out a second later. I watch her taillights take her down the main drag out of town, and I can’t help wondering why she was in such a hurry.

  I like a good mystery. And Nacole Ward is certainly the one I want to figure out.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Nacole

  My first week at Walker’s is over, and man, am I beat. That place is absolutely insane on weekends, and yet somehow I’ve never been happier. I made a decent amount of money in tips, and Caroline, the girl who’s been training me, is an absolute sweetheart. Super bubbly and warm, she made me feel welcome right away.