“Hey, Pat, come sit with us—”
“Not now,” he snapped at Sheilagh. “Have you seen Jo?”
“Uh, I think she’s in the back.”
He made a beeline past the pool tables but came up short when he stepped into what seemed a private conversation between her and her sister. Taking a step back, he hovered at the doorway out of sight.
“Don’t worry about me, Jules,” Jo’s voice was casual, in that typical tone she adopted when hiding the truth. “I’m fine.”
“I know how his family can be.”
Pat frowned. His family? She had some nerve. Of course, his family could be a lot. And yes, they sometimes took things to the extreme, like throwing an engagement party less than twenty-four hours after a proposal was announced. And they had their fair share of shotgun weddings and actual groom shootings in their family history, but what family didn’t? At least their intensions were good.
“We barely got to talk about this,” Julie continued, her voice soft and full of concern. “There has to be a reason you didn’t tell me he proposed—or even mention that you two were dating. I just want to make sure this is what you want. You two always seemed more like…friends.”
His jaw locked. Who was she to nose around in Jo’s life? Like she had any sort of credibility where relationships were concerned. She dated, lived with, and got engaged to the biggest asshole in their class. And she was never going to leave him.
All of his disappointment and insecurities morphed into something cold and angry. He wanted to hurt her for all the times she didn’t notice him. See if, just once, he could get any sort of response out of her.
Crossing the threshold into the hall, he pasted on a bright smile. “There you are.”
Jo tensed when he pulled her close and pressed a kiss on her temple.
“I was looking all over for you.” He glanced at Julie, who watched him closely, then turned his attention back to his blushing bride as her annoyance at being manhandled morphed into mute fury. “My mum wanted to grab another picture of us. Something for the newspaper, to make the announcement.”
Jo scowled at him, and he poked her nose, giving her a little bop on the tip, because he knew how much she hated corny public displays of affection from cheesy couples.
“I know you hate pictures, honey. But you look beautiful. Doesn’t she, Jules?”
Julie smiled. “Always. I wish I got your bone structure and coloring.” She studied them a moment longer. “I see it now. I don’t know why I couldn’t see it before. You two are perfect together—best friends, the way it’s supposed to be.”
“Yup.” He met Julie’s stare hoping to find a spark of disappointment but only saw acceptance. “She’s the one for me.”
He once swore he’d never hurt her. As a matter of fact, there had been several times he suffered in discomfort, just to make her more comfortable. But she never saw him as anything more than a friend. And seeing her plain indifference now, crushed him.
Something dark and damaged inside of him wanted to punish her for that shortcoming. Turning his stare to Jo, he smiled. “My perfect Jo.” Then he did something he never imagined doing and dropped his lips to hers.
Jo’s eyes widened, but it was too late. Before she could object, he was kissing her. It was the most unchoreographed, wrong sort of kiss he’d ever experienced in his life. He imagined kissing Jo would be the closest he could come to kissing a sister, if he had one. But he kept his stomach in check and forced himself through it.
When he pulled away, he glanced at Julie. She gave him a strange smile and walked away, mumbling something about giving them a few minutes alone. When he turned back to Jo, she slapped him. Hard.
“What the psycho ass fuck was that?” She cleaned off her lips on the back of her hand. “Do you always use that much tongue? Jesus, I feel violated.”
His face stung and he scowled at her, too angry to make any excuses. “They’re not broken up. The next time you want to gossip, get your facts straight.” With that, he stomped away.
Chapter 7
Jo caught up to him before he could fall too far into his own self-destructing spiral. She yanked him to a stop and shoved him into the men’s bathroom, apparently undisturbed by Mac, a local lumberjack, taking a leak in the urinal four feet away.
“That’s it!” she snapped. “For years—years—I’ve watched you come up with every excuse under the sun not to tell Julie how you feel. And now that she’s finally single, you’re out of excuses. You’re scared if you tell her your feelings—you know, verbalize them—she might shoot you down. And this time, you can’t blame the other guy for getting there first. But let’s get one thing clear. You do not, I repeat, you absolutely do not get to blame me. They are broken up, Patrick. I don’t know what you heard, but I got my information directly from the source. If you want her, tell her. Stop looking for reasons to wait when you’ve already waited so long.”