And now here he was seeing another woman who didn’t seem to be able to move on. At least that was how it appeared to him. Was he right, or was it actually him who was obsessing because of his own insecurities? He wasn’t sure, but he was bloody sure he couldn’t go that route again. He’d been there. Done that. So what the hell was he doing here now, about to meet the woman who’d already crucified him? He clearly was the prize prat Courtney had him down as.
Sighing, he glanced towards the bar where she would be waiting. He was late, having at first decided not to come and then wrestling with his conscience. She’d been upset when she’d rung him, barely making any sense, something to do with the dickhead she’d preferred over him, he’d assumed. In the end, he’d been worried enough to show, as she’d undoubtedly known he would. He always had been a sucker for tears.
He supposed he should go in, if only to confirm in his own mind that she wasn’t about to do anything stupid. In between the incoherent rambling, she’d said she’d been an idiot. That she’d thrown everything away and had nothing left to live for. As much as he wanted to walk away – knew that that was exactly what he should do, since he owed her nothing – he couldn’t. His sister hadn’t threatened to take her own life, she’d simply done it. She’d been just sixteen. Joe would never forget it. His whole world had stopped turning when he’d found her, held her, screamed at her, ‘Please … don’t do this.’ It was too late. He couldn’t breathe life back into her body, couldn’t bring her back, couldn’t help her. He’d failed her. He was her big brother, he should have been there for her, and he hadn’t. That was why he was here now, for selfish reasons, he guessed. He didn’t think he could ever go through that again.
Feeling bad about how he’d left things with Sarah – without a word, basically – he was about to ring her back when she texted him. His heart, which had been sinking steadily since they’d gone to bed last night with a bad atmosphere still between them, plummeted to the pit of his stomach. Could you call me, Joe, please? she’d sent. Desperately in need of advice about Laura. X
He shook his head despondently. She’d signed off with a kiss; he supposed that was something. It wasn’t enough, though, was it? If he was going to have a relationship with her, it had to be all or nothing. When he’d told her about the disaster his marriage had been, which he’d found bloody difficult, he’d thought she would understand why he would need to know she was fully committed. Clearly, she didn’t.
Pocketing his phone with a heavy sigh, he climbed out of the car and made his way into the pub to see what Courtney’s latest game was. Christ, he really was a glutton for punishment. She’d liked the fact that he was reliable; she’d told him that when they’d first gone out. That he wasn’t the type of man who would let a woman down. Yeah, he wasn’t likely to, was he, since it was some bastard letting his little sister down that had screwed her up. He’d told Courtney about it, sharing stuff, as you did early in a relationship. The cynical side of him couldn’t help thinking now that she knew damn well that that was exactly why he tried to be reliable.
He saw her immediately. She was on her feet, waving across the room, looking nothing like the broken woman she’d sounded like on the phone. Going across to her, he noted the figure-hugging lacy black dress. He remembered buying it for her when she’d oohed and aahed over it while they were out shopping. It had cost him an arm and a leg. It also showed off a lot of leg. Her long blonde hair was sleek and freshly shampooed; he noticed that too as she threaded an arm around his neck, dragging him towards her to plant a kiss on his cheek. Her make-up? Not an eyelash out of place. He hadn’t thought there would be. That was Courtney. Swap the dress for jeans and she hadn’t looked much different, despite the crocodile tears, when he’d left.
‘You’re definitely looking good,’ she said, appraising him slowly. ‘Policing obviously suits you. I know the