by RC Boldt
Wells shakes his head at me. “Because you wouldn’t wipe that lovesick look off your damn face, and I spotted this place on my way into town.” He gives me a little shove. “Now quit being a cheap ass and order us a round.”
We weave through the crowded pub, which opened just a few weeks ago. I hadn’t had time to check it out but, begrudgingly, I’m glad Wells insisted we stop by. It has a casual feel to it and plenty of mounted televisions for sports enthusiasts to watch their teams. Currently, it’s tuned to the Jags’s away game against Washington.
Huh. Wonder if EJ is watching this at home.
Finally landing a small high-top table, Wells and I settle on the barstools and are quickly greeted by a waitress who takes our orders. Glancing around the place, something catches my eye and I swear I see a flash of hair that looks just like— Shit. I need to get it together. I can’t deal with wondering if every dark-haired woman I see is EJ.
“Here you go.” The waitress delivers our beers before fixing a smile on us. “Let me know if y’all need anything else.”
“What we need to do is find you a new woman to distract you from your recent foray into the past.”
“Foray?” I repeat sarcastically.
He grins. “I’m a highly-educated guy. I can use foray.”
With a chuckle, I take a long drink of beer. “Right.”
He directs his attention to our surroundings, scanning the other patrons. “What we need is a woman who is obviously easy on the eyes—”
“Obviously,” I add drily.
“And smart, but not desperate. One who knows what the score is.”
I stare at Wells with disbelief. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“Ah-ha. Bingo.” He turns back to me, wearing a proud grin on his face, and reaches out a fist for me to bump.
“Right. Bingo.” I bump my fist to his, then draw back to inspect my hand. “Shit,” I mutter.
“What’s up?”
“Must have gotten a splinter when I was trying to sand part of the new crown molding I nailed in earlier today.” Glancing up, I shake my head at the dim lighting of the pub before I slide off my barstool. “I’m going to head to the bathroom and see if the lights in there are better so I can get it out.”
I don’t catch Wells’s response, if he has one, because there’s a collective cheering from the majority of patrons watching the game.
As I enter the bathroom, I find my myself wondering again what EJ’s doing tonight.
For fuck’s sake.
“Leave the guy alone for two minutes and he disappears,” I mutter under my breath as I take in the sight of our table, now short one beer.
Wells’s, of course.
The dick left mine behind unattended.
Scrubbing a hand down my face and over my jaw, I scan the pub for my friend. After failing to find him in the crowd, I’m on the verge of texting him to find his whereabouts when I catch sight of the back of his blond head, and shock instantly reverberates through me.
Of all the women in the city of Jacksonville, he not only found the two women who work for me, but also the one I’d slept with last night.
The one who kicked me out, albeit politely and with coffee, this morning.
Madison’s friendly smile is fixed on Wells, and the two seem to be conversing while Emma Jane’s attention is trained on the television mounted above the bar. By all appearances, she looks like a typical fan who’s on edge because of the football game currently playing. But I notice the rigidness of her posture.
As I near them, only two steps away, Wells tosses out casually, “So what did you ladies do last night? Anything fun?”
“I had to catch up on some work. Nothing too much fun. But Emma Jane, here…”
Emma Jane’s head whips around and she gives her friend a glare, ripe with warning. Just as she’s about to turn back to watch the final minutes of the game, she notices me and pales, eyes going wide.
“I see you’ve met Wells.” I greet Madison with a polite smile. “Good to see you, Madison.”
Surprise etches her features before she returns the smile. “Good to see you, too, Mr. Montgomery.”
“Knox,” I correct, “please.”
“Knox.” She nods before continuing. “Wells has been entertaining me with stories of Mobile.”
“Ah, yes. It’s a beautiful place.”
God, this is awkward.
“Emma Jane once called Mobile home.” Wells raises his eyebrows in her direction, but she doesn’t acknowledge him. “Isn’t that right, Ms. Haywood?”
It doesn’t take a genius to realize that he’s using her last name pointedly, considering she would have been a Montgomery.
If she’d followed through with her own wedding and hadn’t chosen to skip out on it, of course.
Emma Jane suddenly whoops in delight and turns to high-five the guys to her left. She reaches for her cell phone, typing frantically, her lips curved into a smile, happiness radiating from it.
Because Becket Jones has just thrown a winning touchdown in the nick of time.
“You’ve moved on to bigger and better things, I guess.”
Wells is getting started on what I foresee as a dangerous roll, but in his defense, he was the one who saw me at my lowest. The only one I allowed to see me that way.
“Guess Knox, here, couldn’t begin to compete with a guy who throws a football for a living.”
EJ spins around in her seat so suddenly that it takes all three of us by surprise, and we rear back slightly. Her expression is one of absolute rage, her blue eyes narrowed dangerously at Wells, lips pressed thin with irritation.
She practically grinds out the words from behind clenched teeth. “Listen here, Kennedy. You of all people should know not to run your mouth when you don’t have all the evidence at hand.”
Slipping off the barstool, she grabs her small purse and phone before she eyes Madison. “I’m going to get some air.” Glaring at Wells, she adds, “The stench of animosity is stifling,” before she stalks off.
I track her movement as she heads toward the exit. Regardless of what’s just transpired, I’d be lying if I said she doesn’t look hot as hell in her blue form-fitting sundress.
A hand shoots out in front of my face, fingers snapping, and I turn to glare at Wells.
“What?”
“You looked like you were about to drown in your own drool. I was saving you.” His smug grin grates on my nerves. “You’re welcome.”
Stepping in, crowding him, I eye Wells hard. “You didn’t have to be such a dick to her.”
He makes a face. “I’m your best friend. I’d be remiss if I didn’t give the woman who—”
Madison’s face, leaning in farther, eyes volleying between us, draws our attention. She raises her eyebrows, her face a mask of innocence. “The woman who…?”
“Don’t.” I address Wells, my tone lethal and heavy with warning.
“Eviscerated his damn heart.”
“Great,” I mutter with irritation. “While you’re at it, you can tell her about that time I was in the first grade and cried after coloring the wrong section on a color-by-numbers worksheet.”
“I didn’t even remember that.” Wells pauses. “But that’s pretty pathetic. Are you sure you want me telling that story to people?”
I drag my eyes from the door EJ exited through moments ago to glare at my friend who’s clearly enjoying giving me shit if the mischievous amusement sparkling in his eyes is anything to go by.
“I’m getting some air.”
“Yeah, you’ll be getting something all right.”
I don’t bother to respond to Wells’s wisecrack. I stride across the pub, intent on exiting and finding a certain brunette.
Once I step outside onto the sidewalk and into the oppressive Florida humidity, I spot her a few feet away, peering into one of the windows of a shop which is now closed. My feet carry me closer, and the moment she notices my reflection in the window, the hand not hol
ding her purse clenches tightly into a fist at her side.
“Are you here to dish out more insults on your friend’s behalf?” She poses the quiet question without turning to face me. Instead, she remains facing the darkened shop window.
“No.” I shake my head slowly. “I’m here to apologize.”
She releases a slow exhale, and her eyes close briefly before she turns to face me. “There’s nothing to apologize for.” She offers a pathetic excuse for a smile. Even a fool would be able to see that it’s laced with intense sadness. “Your best friend’s supposed to stick up for you, just like Wells did.” Emma Jane drops her eyes, studying her feet which are encased in simple white sandals. “You’re lucky to have him.” Her words are spoken so softly, I strain to hear them.
“You”—I swallow past the tightness in my throat—“have Becket.”
Her gaze rises to mine, and she regards me with a look I can’t decipher. “You’re right. I do.” There’s a brief pause, and this time, her smile, though small, is more genuine than before. “He’s a guy who’s ready and willing to beat the tar out of everyone who’s ever hurt me.”
It makes me want to beat the shit out of him because he has that right.
I used to have that right.
“Knox.” Her voice draws me from my thoughts and our eyes lock. “I know our past is messy, to say the least, and we agree that last night was an oddity—a one-time occurrence—but I think the smart thing to do is to try our best to go back to regarding each other in a professional capacity only.” Her features are drawn tight with concern. “It just seems like fate is screwing with us a bit.”
I nod curtly. “You’re probably right. It’s smart to keep things professional.”
She worries the bottom edge of her lip, watching me cautiously before returning the nod. “Good.”
We regard each other in silence for a beat before I shove my hands in the pockets of my khakis and take a step backward. I need to head back inside the pub and find Wells and hopefully tear him away from Madison.
“Night, Emma Jane.” I spin around, not waiting for her to respond, and head down the sidewalk.
But I catch the faint sound of her voice behind me.
“Good night, Knox.”
My feet feel like they get significantly heavier with every step I take that puts more distance between us.
Fucking fate.
KNOX
SENIOR AT AUBURN UNIVERSITY
HOME FOR CHRISTMAS BREAK
THE HAYWOOD MANSION
“You’re going to wear a freaking path on the floor, man.”
I ignore Wells as I pace back and forth, because my nerves are beyond frayed. They’re absolutely shot. Running a hand through my hair, I try to calm my racing heart as nervousness pulses through my veins.
“I hope like hell she says yes,” I mumble.
“Knox.” Wells’s tone gains my attention. “You know she will. That woman loves you.”
I’ve been planning to do this while I’m back home in Mobile for Christmas break and want it to be perfect for EJ.
We’re both in our final year of school, and she’s been spreading herself thin since she’d been accepted into the accelerated degree program. She’ll be graduating with both her bachelor and master’s degrees in business and marketing.
My father left me a considerable trust fund and businesses to my name, but I won’t be able to do anything until I have my degree in hand. Still, I’m confident EJ and I will do well professionally and financially.
Pausing my pacing, I withdraw the small box from the pocket of my dress pants and pop it open once again. I hope like hell she loves this ring.
“Ah, hell. Here comes trouble,” Wells mutters beneath his breath, and I don’t have to look to know who he’s referring to.
“Well, if it isn’t two of the handsomest men in Mobile,” Katherine remarks, striding into the empty ballroom.
Her heels click against the smooth floor as she approaches. Her hair is perfectly coifed, her black dress likely costing an ungodly amount, and she has the same smile gracing her lips that never quite reaches her eyes. I’ve never understood how she and EJ are such great friends. They’re so different, and while EJ is genuine, sweet, and sometimes—mostly when it pertains to her father—a bit of a rebel, Katherine is a young version of Martha Stewart.
Just add her having a giant stick up her ass into the mix.
“Katherine.” I nod politely.
“Nervous?” She arches a brow.
I shrug it off. “Not really. Just want everything to be perfect.” My eyes scan everything from the pristine white linens covering the tables to the crystal goblets and polished flatware at each place setting. “She deserves it,” I finish softly.
“Of course. Nothing but the best for Emma Jane.” My eyes dart back to Katherine, my body tensing in response to her odd tone, but she’s already turned away, inspecting the large room.
Suddenly, she fixes her attention on Wells. “Be sure to save me a dance, okay, Wells?”
Without waiting for his affirmation, she spins on her heels and exits, the clicking of her stilettos resounding throughout the room. The voices of arriving guests drift in from the foyer.
“That woman is no good.”
Wells mutters this beneath his breath, and I silently agree before the sight of something else catches my eye through the large oversized windows. Or, more specifically, someone.
It’s show time.
19
Emma Jane
PRESENT
“You planning to enlighten me about everything at some point?”
Madison gently poses the question in the back of the cab we take home to my place.
“Not much to tell,” I say with a sigh. Dragging my gaze away from my window, I turn to her. “Once upon a time, we were in love. Then I found out he didn’t really love me, and I left.”
“After you walked outside, Wells mentioned something about you”—she breaks off and hooks her fingers in air quotes—“eviscerating Knox’s heart.”
I scoff in disbelief. “Right. That’s almost believable.”
She studies me curiously. “Isn’t it?”
“No.” My tone brooks no argument.
Madison exhales loudly. “Okay, fine.” She reaches over and links my hand with hers. “We shall continue to consider Knox Montgomery pond scum.”
I give our joined hands a squeeze, mustering up a smile. “Thanks.”
Turning back to stare sightlessly at the passing scenery, I lean my head against the cool glass of the window, and my eyes fall closed.
I thought I’d managed to escape to Jacksonville years ago.
Never would I have predicted that my past would find me here.
Damn fate.
LATE SEPTEMBER
“Did you get it?”
My head snaps up in startled surprise at the male voice at my office door. “Becket!” Flashing him a stern look, I warn, “Didn’t I tell you not to sneak up on me like that?”
He merely offers his trademark smile and strides on in. Instead of directly approaching me, he heads over to my table and plucks the daisy that’s on the verge of death out of its small vase and tosses it in the nearby trash bin. Walking to the restroom attached to my office, I hear him dump out the old water and replenish it, only to emerge with the vase holding a fresh daisy. He walks toward me and winks.
“Not only do I bring you a flower, but I had a dress delivered. Did you get it?” He glances around in search for it.
I gesture with my pen, directing him to look behind him to where the garment bag is hanging from the hinge of the closet door. “It’s right back there.”
He grins excitedly like a kid at Christmas. “Do you like it?”
I can’t help but smile in return. “Yes, Beck. It’s absolutely gorgeous.” I school my expression to be one of utter sternness. “But I told you, you have to stop buying me these expensive dresses.”
“But I love spoiling my favorite
girl.”
“Maybe you can just hurry up and find a g—”
“Ms. Haywood, could I see—” My attention is drawn to my doorway, again, to find Knox. “Oh. I’m sorry. I didn’t realize I was interrupting.” His eyes dart back and forth between me and Becket.
“Becket was just ensuring I received a delivery.”
I eye Becket, who suddenly drops into one of my chairs. He stretches out his long legs and crosses them at the ankles.
“I also made sure to replenish her vase.” He waves toward the center of the table where the new daisy now sits in water. He dusts invisible lint from his shirt. “Because I’m sweet like that.”
Oh, dear Lord.
I flash an apologetic look at Knox. “Becket was just leaving.” Giving my friend a pointed look, I prompt, “Isn’t that right?”
With a smug grin, he reaches his arms above his head and laces his fingers together before sliding them behind his head. “Not at all. I was just about to give you some great business-related news.”
Staring at my best friend, I clench my teeth. “Really?”
“I’d love to hear the news, as well.” Knox strides over and slides the other chair over to face Becket before taking a seat.
“Well, it just so happens that the owners of the stadium are going to be at the gala tonight to benefit the Mayo Clinic.” He lifts his shoulder in a slight shrug. “Perfect opportunity to strengthen the new business partnership.”
“Right,” I murmur, eyeing Becket suspiciously because I know my best friend and this is most assuredly going somewhere.
“The thing is, Mr. Montgomery…” Becket lowers his arms and waves to himself with a self-deprecating chuckle. “Business talk and the savviness that goes along with it aren’t my forte. Not like Blue, here.” He nods at me with a wink before redirecting his attention to Knox. “And you, too.”
Oh, hell no.
No, no, no.
“I mean, we all know what I’m good at.” Becket goes as far as to pat his throwing arm lovingly. “And that’s tossing a football around.”