Night Maneuvers - By Jillian Burns Page 0,50

bartender, wondering if he should trust him with his keys to the Jeep and to call him a cab. He couldn’t guarantee he’d be this sensible later. The drunker he got, the cockier he might get about being able to drive.

Mitch pulled his wallet out and slid a fifty and his keys over to the burly, bald dude serving drinks. “Can I trust you to keep these locked up and call me a cab when closing time comes?”

The bartender’s gaze darted from the money and keys up to Mitch. He could’ve sworn he saw a spark of respect in the guy’s eyes before he nodded and snatched them off the bar.

Hey, say anything you want about Mitch McCabe. He may be a drunk and a whore’s son, but he wasn’t no drunk driver.

He poured himself more bourbon and drank it down until the bottle was empty and he had to ask for a new one. But his lips wouldn’t form the words. His vision got blurry and the room started swaying, so he laid his head down on the bar for a few minutes. When he lifted his head he knew he had to be totally plastered because he was having a hallucination.

He saw Alex come in the door and scan the place until her gaze landed on him. Then she headed straight for him.

Uh-oh. She looked mad. He laughed. Wouldn’t it piss her off if he said she looked beautiful when she was mad? Wait. Had he already said that to her one time? He couldn’t remember. Didn’t matter. Even with her hair looking like she’d run her hands through it a hundred times, this hallucination Alex was gorgeous.

As she came up alongside him and leaned on the bar, her expression changed from mad to sad. Good. He was the one who should be mad. He’d tell her, too. Except he couldn’t remember what he was mad about.

“Oh, Mitch.” She cupped his face in her hands and searched his eyes.

“Hello, Alexandria. I’m very mad at you.”

“I know, but you didn’t see what you thought you saw.”

“I didn’t?” Thinking about that sentence made his head hurt. He squeezed his eyes shut. What did he not see? He was so confused.

“No, you idiot.” Her hands slid down to his shoulders. “Neil only came to—”

“That was it!” He tried to snap his fingers but they wouldn’t snap. “I was mad at Alex for kissing Neil-the-SEAL.”

“It’s not what you think. He’s shipping out next week.”

“Off to earn another medal, I bet. No wonder Alex kissed him. She deserves a guy like that.” He looked up at the hallucination.

“I don’t want him. I want you, Mitch.”

Of course his hallucination would say that. But the real Alex would choose Neil-the-SEAL. Seeing the guy in person only brought home how perfect he was. Tall, dark and handsome. And Alex had her arms wrapped around him, looking at him like he’d just brought about world peace and ended world hunger all at once.

“Nah. She doesn’t want me. Why should she? My mother’s a whore and so am I.” He glanced at Hallucination Alex. “I know that’s what she really thinks. She doesn’t like me anymore, that’s why she went away to D.C. in the first place. She used to think I was a great guy.” He stared down into his drink. “But not anymore. I’m just a good lay.”

He wiped a hand over his mouth. “I bet Mr. Perfect Neil-the-SEAL sent her cards and flowers all the time. And he’d never go three days without calling her.”

“Oh, Mitch.” Her hands came back up to his face and she leaned in to give him a soft kiss.

“I like it when you kiss me, Alex.” He smiled. Then he frowned. “The real Alex is kissing Neil-the-SEAL.”

“I am not.”

He closed his eyes and placed his forehead against hers. “Want something to drink?”

“Mitch, I want you to come home with me now, okay?”

He shook his head but that made the room really start spinning. “Not driving. Calling a cab.”

“Well, that’s good, but I can drive you. Come on.” She took his arm and it felt so real.

He laughed again. “Silly girl. Hallucinations can’t drive.”

“Mitch, I’m not a hallucination. I’m really here. But you can’t stay here like this. How do think you’re going to get to the ceremony tomorrow if you’re passed-out drunk?”

“Ceremony?” A vague recollection of something special going on tomorrow tickled his brain. “What ceremony? I’m not getting married, am I? No way! I’ll never get married again. Luanne

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