grimmer than it ever had before. He must’ve been through a lot in the past few months.
“I’m sorry,” she said softly.
He shrugged again, but she wasn’t fooled by his feigned nonchalance. “She’s hanging in there. So how’ve you been?”
“Oh, fine. Great. Working a lot, you know.”
A waitress came by and placed beers in front of him and Brian. Macy’s pulse hadn’t slowed a bit. What was up with that? He was pressed in so tight against her she wondered if he could feel her racing heart, prayed that he couldn’t.
Ghost leaned across the table toward Candace and Brian. “Candace,” he said, and for a moment Macy thought he might actually say something sincere. No such luck. “I really advise against leaving him alone with me again. Two hours away from you and he was coming on to me.” Everyone else at the table broke up in laughter. It only egged him on. “I mean, I know he wants me. He’s made it clear. And I’m growing weak, I tell you. I missed him. If he does it again, I’m gonna give it to him.”
Brian was shaking his head. “God, we missed you,” Candace said.
“Did we?” Brian asked.
Ghost reached over and placed his hand on Candace’s. “Don’t worry, though. We’re not going to shut you out. You’re welcome in our house anytime, sweetheart. I might even share him with you. As long as, you know, I can watch.”
“This is actually pretty hot,” Samantha observed, and Macy could just imagine the sparkle of interest in her eyes.
“You can come too,” Ghost said, earning Sam’s flattered laughter.
“Fuck you, man.” Brian punctuated the words with the corresponding hand gesture, but Macy could tell from his grin he was probably the happiest person at the table to have his friend back.
“I’m trying so hard to resist that, Brian. You damn moody Capricorns. You would only hurt me in the end.” Ghost drew a shaky breath. “But I think…I’m ready to take the chance.”
“You’re gonna have a hell of a fight on your hands,” Candace told him, running her hand over Brian’s shoulders. “This one belongs to me.”
“Yeah. Stake your claim, baby. Save me from him.”
As the banter continued to fly and Macy slowly began to realize it seemed to be just business as usual here, she found herself relaxing. She took a deep breath, distancing herself from the memories of what she’d allowed to happen between her and the guy sitting next to her not long before he left town.
That’s it, get a grip. So what, you were confronted with him when you least expected it. That would throw anyone.
But it shouldn’t. Not her, no way. He was part of a world so separate from her own it would be impossible to bridge the chasm between them. He was heavy metal. She was all country, all the time. He wouldn’t belong at a rodeo, and she wouldn’t belong at one of his wild concerts where they probably sacrificed live chickens or bit the heads off bats onstage.
That was that. Since the accident that had damn near killed her, sensibleness had ruled her world, not impulsiveness. And certainly not her heart or hormones. She was the one in control here, and she liked it that way. If she messed up, she could at least mess up knowing she’d weighed all her options and made the best decision possible.
Even being miserably single on Valentine’s Day wasn’t enough for her to give up that position.
Ghost’s thigh pressing more firmly against hers was cause enough for her to do a quick reassessment.
Sam’s boyfriend joined them soon afterward, and the party was in full swing. Despite everything, she marveled that she had friends who were willing to do this for her—take her out, buy her drinks, try their damnedest to hook her up—at the expense of their own plans. Surely Candace and Brian had way better things to do on their first Valentine’s night than babysit her. Same with Samantha and Mike, even though those two had been together for years.
“It’s damn good to be back with you guys,” Ghost announced, holding up his beer. Bottles clinked as they toasted.
“I’m just damn glad to have you back at the parlor.” Brian grinned, sporting two dimples that belied the image conveyed by all the ink and piercings and longish, unkempt black hair. Unkempt mainly because Candace couldn’t keep her fingers out of it.
“Oh, is that all I am to you? Your fuckin’ workhorse?”
“Whatever else you are, the fact remains that we’ve