Crazy Girl(24)

As I parked in front of Rus’s, the same bar we had met at on our first date, dread anchored in the pit of my stomach. I hadn’t been thrilled about meeting here again. It was a nice small-town bar, but I’d wondered if maybe going somewhere a bit livelier wouldn’t have made it easier for us. Maybe a little distraction, like music or crowds wouldn’t make it feel like there was so much pressure. But this was the place she’d picked, so I’d went with it.

Despite the similar scent of stale beer and fried food inundating me as I entered the bar, when my eyes adjusted to the dimmed lighting I noticed the Tuesday-night crowd was quite different from the weekend crowd. I had no idea why she liked this place so much. I spotted her immediately, but she didn’t notice me. Her long hair was draped over one shoulder and she was wearing threaded jeans and a tank top. She hadn’t dressed up as much as she had last time. I wondered if that was intentional. Maybe she decided not to waste any more of her time on me until she knew I was worth it. I wasn’t complaining, though. I’d come straight from work; still wearing my sweaty work clothes. But the woman said pick a time and be on time, so when I’d had to work late it was either shower and be late, or show up like this. However dressed down she was, she still looked pretty. Maybe even better in some ways, like she was comfortable. That was probably a good thing. She was turned slightly, her attention seemingly fixed on a couple at a table in the back. At quick glance, I wondered if she knew them, but I figured she’d have spoken to them if she did. The longing gaze gave her away. They were an attractive pair, in their thirties like us. Other than that, I wasn’t sure what she might find so interesting about them.

Once I was behind her, I bent so that my head was close to hers without touching. Damn it, she smelled really fucking good. “Hannah,” I growled, causing her to jerk.

Turning to me, she laughed as she pushed some hair behind her ear. “Nice, Wren,” she said dryly. Then pressing the button on her cell where it sat at the bar, she widened her eyes and released an exaggerated gasp.

“You’re actually on time.” Tilting her head, she narrowed her eyes as if she was in thought. “Did hell just freeze over?” Smartass.

“Ah, crazy girl’s got jokes,” I jabbed as I plopped down in the seat beside her.

She rolled her eyes and smirked. “Is that what name I’m saved under on your contact list? Crazy girl?”

I smirked. “Maybe.” It wasn’t, but I liked the banter we had going on. We were making light of the awkward shit. This, I could do. Sarcasm was my forte.

She smiled, that kind of smile that happens just before you laugh but it never quite makes it there. Shrugging one shoulder, she replied, “At least I’m memorable.”

That was an understatement, I thought to myself. I snorted before I could stop myself, but she didn’t acknowledge it.

We both ordered a drink and as we waited I asked, “You were watching that couple back there when I came in. Do you know them?”

She grimaced a little, maybe embarrassed I’d caught her staring at them. “No. I don’t know them. Just…saw something I couldn’t look away from.”

I wrinkled my brow. “You think that dude is hot or something?” I wanted to punch myself for asking that question. It made me sound like I cared if she did or didn’t think he was good-looking, like I was jealous. And I wasn’t.

“No, not his looks. He looks fine.”

I stared at her, waiting for her to explain. She glanced back at me and twisted her mouth. “If I tell you, you’ll just tell me I’m crazy…again.”

“Ah, but you’ll be memorable, remember?” I pointed out.

I could tell she didn’t want to tell me when she scrunched her nose, she was fighting it, but she was going to. When she pointed toward the door, I followed her line of sight. An older couple was entering, both gray-haired. The woman wore a sweatshirt even though it was June and damn warm outside, and the man was dressed in shorts and blindingly white sneakers with Velcro. The man stood opening the door for the woman, letting her in before him.

“Okay,” I said, letting her know I was ready for her to explain. “What am I looking at here?”

Leaning toward me, she hooked her hand around my arm, resting it on my bicep, her chin resting on my shoulder. Her voice low, she explained, “When they entered, he opened the door for her.”

“I saw that,” I replied. And I had, I’d watched everything she described, but my attention at that moment was more focused on where she was touching me.

“But did you see the way his hand found her lower back once they entered? How he rested it there and guided her gently inside? Or did you notice how she held her head up high, the confidence she carries herself with?”

We both continued to watch the couple as they waited for the hostess to seat them. “Look how she leans toward him when she speaks to him,” Hannah murmured. “It’s almost flirtatious.” I wasn’t looking at her face, but I could hear the soft smile in Hannah’s voice. “They might have been together a lifetime and he still makes her feel precious; like the only woman in the room. And he still feels lucky to have her.” Resting her chin deeper on my shoulder, letting the weight settle, I don’t think she realized she was doing it, and I stilled not wanting to spook her. It was the first time she’d touched me…at least in a natural way. She sighed. “That’s a beautiful thing. That’s the kind of thing that makes my heart happy.”