Good Girls Don't (Donovan Brothers Brewery 1)

Luke smiled. “Or you’ll leave here under very different terms. Sergeant.”

The fire in his chest faded as he walked out of the building, but unfortunately it left ash behind. He didn’t even feel a spark of hope when his phone rang. It wasn’t Tessa. More than a week had passed and she wasn’t going to call.

Just as he expected, when he flipped open his phone, it wasn’t her. What he didn’t expect was an L.A. area code. “Hello?”

“Luke? Hi. It’s Eve.”

He stopped at the curb, too shocked to keep his legs moving. He’d seen her only a short while ago, but somehow it was different hearing her voice on the phone. Like they were alone together. “Oh,” he finally said. “Hey. How are you?”

“I’m great. Really great.”

“Good. You looked great when I saw you.”

“So did you,” she answered, before they both stumbled into a silence.

Frowning, he slipped his keys from his pocket and made himself move to his car. “So…”

“I’m sorry,” she said. “It’s just strange, isn’t it?”

“Yeah.” He sighed as he got in and shut the car door and closed his eyes. “It is.”

“I’m sorry about the other day. At your mom’s. It wasn’t my intention to surprise you like that.”

“I know.” With his eyes closed it felt like they were sitting in the car together. Luke opened his eyes and stared straight ahead.

“I should’ve told you then,” she said, the words slow and careful. “I mean, I would have, if I hadn’t been so shocked to see you.

I’m getting married.”

“Congratulations. I figured it out, actually.”

Her sigh was filled with relief. “You were always the smart one.”

“Not always,” he murmured.

“No.” He heard the phone click against her earring when she shifted. “No, but that wasn’t a normal time for either of us. It was hard. I’m really sorry for… I don’t know. Everything?”

Luke closed his eyes again, too damn tired to keep them open. “Me, too.”

“I could’ve handled it a lot better. I was young and stupid.”

“We both were. Hell, we were too young to deal with marriage, much less cancer.”

“Yeah. Maybe we were. So…you don’t hate me anymore?” He thought he heard a catch in her voice and felt an answering tightness in his chest.

Did he hate her? Had he ever hated her? That part of his life felt too far away for him to tell now. “No, I don’t hate you. I’m happy for you. I hope he’s a good guy.”

“He is.” She hesitated. “For what it’s worth, I think I’ve learned how to be better at this. I kept too much inside before. I never let you know how lonely I felt, even when you were sitting right next to me. And by the time I told you, it was too late. We couldn’t get back from there.”

He could’ve argued with her. He could’ve told her that she was the one who couldn’t get back to him. But what the hell did it matter now? She was right; they’d been young and stupid. They hadn’t stood a chance.

“It’s nice to hear your voice,” she said softly.

“Yeah, you, too.” And he meant it. But he suspected it would’ve been even nicer if he knew he was heading home to Tessa. But tonight, the bottle would have to do.

FRIDAY EVENING WAS ALWAYS the liveliest night at the brewery. They usually had a band, and there was a great one tonight. But even without the music, the air thrummed with happiness as their customers bid farewell to another workweek. Everyone was happy. Even Tessa pretended she was happy as she tapped her toe to the electric fiddle and drew another round for table nine.

But she wasn’t happy; she was just restless, and resentful. She should be happy. Her shoulders were lighter, her heart less full of worry. Jamie and Eric had called a tentative truce, and Jamie had solemnly apologized for sleeping with a thief, or at least a thief’s accomplice. It felt like a wound had been lanced, as if pressure had suddenly been released.