45

Lincoln

Present day

“What are you doing here, man?”

Hunter rolls down the window of his truck when I pull up and park beside him at Mo’s. I’m not too proud to admit that I followed my friend and did a good enough job at it so he wouldn’t realize I was tailing him. I just didn’t expect to be following him here. Back to where it all fucking started. Maybe there’s something poetic about that, but I’m certainly not feeling that way right now.

“What do you think I’m doing? I’m here to fix things.”

“Look, I get it. You want another shot with the one that got away. Hell, I even respect it. But you gotta back off for now.”

“Whitney’s aunt has a job at The Gables, if she’ll take it. An even better one than she had before.”

Hunter’s eyebrows hit his hairline. “For real?”

“I’ve also got an apology from my mother, in writing. If Jackie will accept my mother’s apology, McKinley is going to promote her.”

“Holy shit. You didn’t waste time working that miracle.” Hunter leans back in the seat and smiles ruefully. “I should’ve figured you’d find a way to turn this into a windfall. That’s what you do.”

“We good?”

“Yeah.” He nods. “We’re solid.”

We climb out of our vehicles and I follow Hunter. I’m glad he’s over the idea of kicking my ass—and not just because I don’t have many friends I can trust like I trust him.

The tall bastard’s head damn near touches the doorway as we walk into the bar. He’s built like a brute, even though his mother would like to pretend that their family has never done a day’s worth of physical labor. He’s got at least a couple of inches and thirty pounds on me, and I’m not small at six feet and two twenty.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve been here,” I say as my shoes crush peanut shells on the cement floor.

“It’s Cricket’s favorite. For what reason, I’ll never know.”

Mo’s hasn’t changed at all since the one and only other time I’ve been here. It’s crazy how sometimes it only takes doing something different once to change the entire course of your life.

All I can hope is that tonight changes it for the better.

My eyes adjust to the dim lighting, and it takes me all of three seconds to spot Whitney. Her dark hair swings over her shoulder the moment Cricket squeals when she sees Hunter, jumping up and dodging tall tables and the people sitting at them to get to him.

Whitney’s blue gaze lands on me, and everyone else in the room may as well have gone up in smoke. She stares at me for long moments without blinking, and I’d give anything to know what the hell she’s thinking.

Is she remembering that night we met? I would give just about any fucking thing to have tonight end the same way that one did.

I study Whitney’s face as she takes her time looking me over. Her expression isn’t angry. She isn’t running in the other direction.

Maybe . . . maybe I do have a chance to fix this.

Cricket rushes past me, probably to throw herself at Hunter, and I walk toward Whitney slowly, as if she’s an animal I’m trying not to spook. She doesn’t run. She doesn’t even break eye contact.

When I stop in front of her, an apology is the first thing out of my mouth. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry, too.”

Her reply stuns me. “For what?”

“Because tomorrow . . .”

When she pauses, a pang stabs me in the chest because I know exactly what she’s going to say. I can’t believe I managed to forget this year. Whitney opens her mouth to keep speaking, but a redheaded biker chick stops beside her.

“I know who you are. Thought I was dreaming. But you’re the bitch who killed Ricky Rango.” She waves to a guy in a black leather vest. “Bruno. It’s her! Whitney Rango!”

For fuck’s sake.

The woman gets in Whitney’s face, and I step around her and move Whitney behind me without touching the woman.

“I’m going to ask you once to leave her alone—”

Bruno barrels toward me. “Don’t you get in her face, motherfucker. That’s my sister.”

Fucking hell.

The last thing I want to do is get into a bar fight with a biker, but apparently fights are the only reason I come to Mo’s. That, and to see Whitney Gable.

The woman jabs her finger into my chest. “I don’t give a shit about you, asshole. My beef’s with her. She killed the legend. She should be in jail for what she did to him. So, get the fuck out of my way because I’m gonna kick her fucking ass.”

Whitney moves back, and I step away from the woman. “We’re leaving.”

Bruno shoves his sister behind him. “I got this.”

His fist comes flying toward my face. I block the first punch, conscious of the press of Whitney’s body against my back.

The woman comes charging toward my side, no doubt to get to Whitney, but Cricket grabs her arm and spins her around.

“Not today, bitch. That’s my cousin.”

Glancing at Cricket costs me. Knuckles connect with my chin, and my head snaps sideways.

Instinct kicks in as adrenaline dumps into my system. I retaliate with a combination. The biker’s head rocks back and he crashes into a tall table. The two women sitting at it screech as their drinks go flying, and he hits the floor.

Hunter lifts Cricket away from the woman who started this shit show, and Cricket uses the leverage to kick out and catch the redhead in the chest. Bruno’s sister flies backward to land on her ass in front of a group of bikers before Hunter carries Cricket out the front. The bikers stand, their attention split between Hunter and me, and it’s time to go.

I throw an arm around Whitney and hustle her out the back door just like I did last time.