Sam’s: dark wood, gleaming brass fixtures, a long bar punctuated by comfortable stools, and wooden tables spread higgledy--piggledy throughout. It was easy to pull up a chair, gather the tables into groups for larger parties, or slip one off by its own for a twosome. Students rubbed elbows with songwriters and country music stars and Titans players and off-duty doctors and soccer moms. Just one of those Nashville things. Everyone came to this town with a dream, and ended up kaleidoscoped together into a single shifting, pulsing entity.
As usual, the bar was packed. Aubrey didn’t particularly want to run into anyone she knew; this used to be their hangout, hers and Josh’s, and many of their friends still popped in on occasion. Of course, all of them were busy with their own lives now, raising families, and didn’t get out unless there was money for a babysitter. Date night, they called it. For a woman who’d only ever operated under the auspices of every night being date night, Aubrey worried for them. Having to schedule time with your husband to be married seemed counterproductive.
She was a bit confused as to why Meghan suggested Sam’s, of all places, actually. But she didn’t want to worry about it too much. She was feeling reckless and slightly daring. She hadn’t so much as glanced at a man in a friendly way for the past five years, and yet here she was, about to have a drink with a stranger, one whose walk reminded her of Josh.
The extended, unprepped run had clearly deprived her brain of necessary oxygen.
She knew the din lessened a bit in the back. Two birds with one stone. It was quieter, and away from most of the prying eyes. She gestured for him to follow her, found a table for four in the far corner. He pulled her chair out for her. Once she was settled, he looked around.
“Nice place. Should I go to the bar and get our drinks?” Chase asked.
“That’s all right. Someone will be here in a minute.”
“Okay.”
He sat opposite her, one hand on the table, palm open, relaxed.
What did that mean? When Josh had done that, it was an invitation for her to take his hand, where he would rub the underside of her wrist and make tingles shoot between her legs.
They lapsed into silence. He was watching her, gauging, and she truly had no idea where to start. Or why she was here.
She was saved by Vincenzo, one of the regular waiters. He came out of the back and saw her sitting in the corner, immediately joined them with a big grin on his perpetually tanned moon face. He pulled her to her feet and hugged her.
“Aubrey! It’s been too long. How are you? You’re too skinny, let me get you some food.”
“Everyone keeps trying to feed me. Really, I’m fine.”
Vincenzo shook his head and poured on the accent. “In Italia, we like our women to have some meat on their bones.” He traced an hourglass in the air, waggling his considerable eyebrows.
“You’re from Franklin, Vinny. Nice try.”
He laughed and gestured inquisitively toward Chase.
“Who’s this?”
She was surprised at the welcoming tone—Vinny and Josh had been good friends. Apparently, everyone wanted to feed her, and see her get laid. Everyone had moved on but her.
“Chase—um . . .”
“Boden,” he supplied helpfully.
God, how embarrassing. But Vinnie seemed unfazed.
Chase put out a hand. “I’m from Chicago, actually, just here in town to see the sights. Aubrey and I have bumped into each other twice today, I figured it was a sign.”
“He was at Frothy Joe’s. We’re just waiting for Meghan and Linda. Having a quick drink.”
“Nice ta meetcha.” Vinny shook Chase’s hand, then moved his mother hen act back to Aubrey. “You work too much, you never come see me anymore. I see you run by sometimes.”
“I’ll do better, I promise.”
Chase was smiling at her. “What would you like to drink?” he asked.
“I’ll have what you’re having.”
Chase looked up at Vinny. “Tanqueray and tonic, with a slice of lime. Tall, if you don’t mind.” He looked back at her. “Is that okay?”
Aubrey felt that crazy zing again. “Yes, that’s fine. My favorite, actually.”
“That’s funny. Mine, too.”
With his words came an easy smile. She got it now. He was playing her. Anger bubbled to the surface.
She stood. “Chase, I’m sorry. I need to go.”
He stood, too. “Why?” He looked genuinely confused.
“I think there’s been some sort of misunderstanding. I wasn’t even supposed to work tonight. It was a lark on my part. I’ve had a very long, very bad day. It’s been a long five years, as a matter of fact. And I don’t know what Meghan told you about me, but I’m not into that. This. You. I can’t go there. So you’ll excuse me. Thanks for . . . Well, see ya.”
She was three feet away, congratulating herself on getting out while the getting was good, when she felt his hand on her arm.
His hand.
Her breath left her in a whoosh.
He turned her slowly. After a second’s resistance, she allowed herself to be maneuvered to face him.
Those dark chocolate eyes bored into her.