smile was tight as she pulled out the chair and patted the seat. “Here. Sit down.” Her tone wasn’t ecstatic about seeing him again—but certainly friendlier than at Buck’s office. But then people weren’t usually at their best in Buck’s office.
Chance took the only relaxed gulp of beer he’d had since leaving the bar, but the downtime didn’t last long. When he sat, he found the space tighter than it looked. His right arm pressed against Kyndal’s left from shoulder to elbow. He started to scoot over some, but the contact felt pretty good—damn good, really. He’d just have to enjoy the friction that sent little bursts of heat through his sweater every time he raised his arm for a sip—and he’d make it a point to sip often.
“Wow, y’all. This is just like old times.” Jaci was almost squealing. The saucy redhead looked and sounded the part of mischievous imp. If nothing exciting was happening, she’d make it happen.
Chance was sure there was more to the comment, and he braced himself for what would come next.
“Except, when we leave, Bart and I will be together, and y’all will go off and be with other people. Seems weird, huh?”
So Kyndal had “other people.” Chance’s mouthful of beer tasted rather flat.
Kyndal’s arm flinched against his, and he felt her stiffen. “Jaci…” Her tone held a warning.
“Yeah, let’s not talk about that now.” Jaci signaled the waitress for another round of beer. “Private lives, politics and religion are officially off-limits tonight. Let’s just enjoy the moment.”
Damn. Staying away from politics was a good idea if he and Kyn were going to try to remain civil, but he’d like to hear about this relationship just to satisfy his curiosity. Maybe he could ease into it from a different angle. “How’s your mom, Kyn?”
“She’s fine.” She picked the corner of the label loose from her bottle. “Your parents?”
“They’re okay. In fact, they leave in the morning for the first trip they’ve taken together since Hank—” He stopped and an emotional silence fell over the group.
Kyndal cleared her throat and raised her beer over the middle of the table, but her eyes fixed on his. “Here’s to letting go of old hurts.”
He doubted total forgiveness was a toast away, but maybe this was a start. As they clinked their bottles together, everybody seemed to relax.
“You know, Chance, you’re lucky I showed up when I did.” Jaci pointed at the bartender as she let Bart and Kyndal in on the joke. “Tripp was seriously considering Chance’s marriage proposal.”
“Don’t sell your soul for liquor.” Bart nuzzled Jaci’s hair playfully. “Hold out for home-cooked meals and wild sex—in that order.”
They all laughed together, and for the first time since he’d sat down, Chance felt as if it really was like old times.
A plate of cheese-stuffed potato cakes showed up and gave everybody an opportunity to focus on food rather than conversation. Chance glanced at Kyndal’s hand as she passed the plate. No ring, so she wasn’t engaged. Chance relaxed even more and gave himself permission not to analyze why.
“Hey, Kyn.” Jaci’s wide-eyed expression was the picture of innocence. “I told Chance you were going to call him about what you found in the cave.”
Kyndal choked on her potato cake.
Chance patted her between the shoulder blades. “You okay?”
She coughed a couple of times, cleared her throat and nodded. “Yeah.” She smiled, and for a brief moment he was lost in the watery depths of those green eyes. She cleared her throat again. “Really. I’m okay.”
She gave a tug that made him realize he had a firm grasp on her arm with his left hand, and the pats on her back had morphed into soft rubs. His grasp nearly circumvented her arm. Though not very big around, he could feel the taut muscles underneath and the strength in them. Reluctantly, he let go and shifted his attention from the feel of her under his hands to what she found in the cave.
She chewed her lip before speaking. “I found a small room made completely of crystals.”
“Crystals?” It wasn’t the type of news he’d expected, and he had to let the information sink in.
“Yeah, crystals. Walls, floor, ceiling. Everything was white, shiny crystals.”
Chance stared into his beer, searching his memory. “I’ve heard of that before. What’s it called?” He waved his hand, trying to reel the word out of his memory. “It’s a bubble left over after volcanic activity…a vot…a vut…no, a vug! That’s what it’s called. A vug. It’s sort