“He died when I was nineteen. So did my mom,” she said softly. “Car accident. That's the reason I hate driving.”
Tears fell from her eyes and rolled down her cheeks before she could stop them. She wiped at them with her arm, but it was too late. There were just too many tears now, and they kept flowing “I'm sorry,” she said, sniffling and continuing to wipe away the tears. “I get a little emotional still. It's only been a few years since I lost them, and I – I feel so lonely. Lost without them.”
“I'm sorry, Abby,” I said softly.
I wasn't sure what to say or do. I hardly knew the girl but seeing her in tears while she sat right next to me made my stomach roil. I wanted to make the tears stop falling, to tell her everything would be okay, but we both knew it wouldn't be. Nothing would ever be okay again. Not when you lose everyone you love so dearly.
I knew, firsthand, how difficult it was. I also knew how empty platitudes did nothing to wash away that pain. I offered my hand to her, but she shook her head, continuing to wipe the tears away. She even managed a soft, sweet smile, her way of telling me she was okay.
Even though we both knew it was a lie.
CHAPTER FOUR
ABBY
“And then, my daddy told me I could never eat cherry sno-cones again, at least until I learned how not to make it look like I was a vampire,” I laughed, slurping the rest of my Cherry Coke.
Mentioning my father had been hard, at first. But, once I started sharing the stories from my childhood, I couldn't stop. Chase just sat there and stared at me, an almost startled look on his face. He'd finished his chicken fried steak, and I was now done with my dinner too.
I'd done most of the talking while we ate, and he just silently listened to me ramble on. He seemed content to listen though – well, except that maybe the story about my dad almost rushing me to the hospital because it looked like I'd been feeding off the dead had been a little too much for him.
“Sorry, I sometimes talk way too much for my own good,” I said, reaching for my bag.
“No, no, it's fine,” he said as he reached for his wallet. “And put that way. I got this.”
A smile pulled at my lips, but I shook my head, “No way, cowboy. I keep dragging you out of your comfort zone. At least let me pay for my own food. You've done enough for me already.”
The waitress came over to our table with the check, and Chase grabbed it from her hand before I could stop him. I tried to argue, but he'd already passed on his debit card to the woman before I could do anything about it.
“Seriously, I owe you big time,” I said. “Let me buy you a drink, at least?”
He scratched his beard and studied me for a long time. He hadn't answered me by the time the waitress returned with his card, so I asked again.
“Let me buy you a drink, Chase,” I said. “It's the least I can do.”
“You don't have to do anything,” he said. “It's just who I am. I'm not going to make a little girl walk into town – ”
“I'm not a little girl, Chase,” I said. “I'm a grown woman.”
“Alright, I'm not going to make a grown woman walk into town by herself if I can help it,” he said. “And a man always picks up the check. It's just how things are done.”
“A little old-fashioned, don't you think?”
“It's who I am,” he said.
“Yeah, well – I'm thinking about getting a drink anyway,” I said. “Care to join me?”
Maybe I was lonely. Maybe I just felt bad for using Chase for rides into town and now for a free meal. Whatever the reason, I really wanted him to join me. I wasn't used to being by myself all day, every day. I didn't have a single friend in this pitiful excuse for a town and it sucked. Chase was the first friendly – or at least, semi-friendly – face that I'd met since I got here, when he wasn’t telling me how much he liked being left alone.
Not to mention, he wasn't too bad on the eyes either. Not that I needed a rebound, it had only been a few weeks since I'd ended things with Paul, after all. But, if I were in the market for one, Chase would have been prime picking.
He was the exact opposite of my ex in every way; built and strong, a chiseled jaw and face with soft, brown eyes. Not to mention that sweet Texas drawl that just about soaked my panties whenever I heard it.
“Fine,” he said after a while. “But only one drink, and only because I don't want you walking home by yourself drunk.”
“Sure,” I laughed.
I grabbed my purse and, together, we walked out of the restaurant. I followed Chase since he knew this town better than I did. He walked me across the street to a bar that looked like it was about the size of my dorm room back in college.
He swung the door open and country music spilled out – because, of course it did. Chase held the door open for me, and I resisted giving him the lecture about how I could hold open my own doors. He was merely being nice, and there was no reason to jump down his throat for an old-fashioned belief system. For all I knew, he'd have held the door open for anyone, not just a woman, which was the polite thing to do.
Chase took a seat at the bar and I sat down beside him. The place was nearly empty, but there were a few guys at the other end of the bar slamming back beers with a glassy look in their eyes. They'd been here a while, obviously.
The bartender was a woman with gray hair pulled back in a loose braid down her back. Her face was wrinkled with age, but there was a soft smile and gentle eyes that were absolutely beautiful. She must have been a stunner back in her younger years. Hell, she still was a stunner for a woman old enough to be my grandmother.
“Long time, no see, stranger,” she said, winking at Chase.
“Hey, Patsy,” he replied. “Meet Abby. She's new in town.”
Patsy's eyes drifted over me and her smile grew even wider. “Nice to meet you, Abby,” she said.
“Nice to meet you too,” I said, offering her my hand.
She shook it, giving my hand a nice, tight grip. She gave Chase an inscrutable look, some silent communication passing between them, and I saw what I took to be color rising in his cheeks.
“The usual for you, Chase?” she asked.
“Of course,” he said.
“And you, pretty lady?” she asked, turning to me.
“Whatever he's having,” I said weakly.
She cocked an eyebrow at me, then turned to Chase.
“You heard the woman,” Chase said, a smile pulling at the corners of his lips. “She'll have what I'm having.”
“Alright then,” Patsy said. “Coming right up.”
She grabbed a bottle from underneath the counter, set a couple of glasses down in front of her, and poured. She added just a tiny bit of ice and slid the glasses across the bar to us. Whatever it was, it was straight.
“What do we have here?” I asked.
I raised the glass to my nose and took a whiff of it. The alcohol burned my nostrils, and even though I tried not to, I crinkled my face up in disgust as I sat the glass down.
“Whiskey. Straight. Just a little ice,” Patsy said.
She had her hands on her hips and watched me, an amused look etched on her face.
“Whiskey, huh,” I said. “Can't say I've ever tried it.”
“Would have surprised me if you had,” Chase said.
“Hey, we have whiskey in San Francisco,” I countered, but he was smiling at me, clearly trying to get a rise from me. It worked. “Fine, a toast then.”
“A toast to what?”
“To my new life in Texas and to trying new things,” I said, clinking my glass to Chase's.
We both took a drink from our glasses. Chase took a long swallow before putting the glass down. I'd barely taken a sip, the alcohol burning as it moved down my throat. I felt it sliding all the way down my esophagus, then traveling all the way to my stomach. It burned like hell, but I wasn't about to show any signs of weakness, so I feigned a smile.
“Delicious,” I lied, feeling the tears welling in my eyes.
Chase continued watching me, taking another big pull from his glass. I didn't reach for a second drink. Maybe this wasn't the start of a love affair with whiskey, but at least I could say that I'd tried it.