Searching for Winslet (Fallport Rescue Operations #5)

Chapter 2

CHAPTER TWO

Winslet wrapped her arms around her best friend. The evening had been a soiree of emotions, both good and bad. But Winslet held the worst of them close to her chest. She plastered a smile on her face and forced herself to have a good time. And it wasn’t the worst evening. She enjoyed her friends. The banter. The laughter. The lightness of it all. “Thanks for tonight. I sorely needed it.”

“You haven’t been yourself lately and I’m sorry that it ended up being about me. I hadn’t meant to do that. I wanted to tell you in private, but it was hard because I can’t drink, and everyone was pushing me as to the reason why I wasn’t partaking.” Emory held her by the forearms and gave her that look. It was the slight tilt of her head with a lowered chin.

God, Winslet hated it when anyone pitied her, but it twisted her guts like a blender when it came from Emory.

“I’m happy for you. I truly am.” That was the truth. But Winslet would be lying to herself if she said the news hadn’t stung like a bee. A little pinch at first. No big deal. However, seconds later, that sting grew and decayed into a pain that drove a person crazy.

“I know it’s been a few months since your breakup with Shamus, and you keep telling me it was bound to happen, but you loved him. And don’t try to tell me otherwise.”

Being in love had been an unwanted complication in Winslet’s life. She’d met Shamus a year ago at a conference. What started out as a wild weekend romance turned into an eight-month love affair that had rocked her world. Everything she thought she wanted her life to be changed in an instant because she loved Shamus so completely.

Until she found out the bastard had been lying to her the entire time.

Winslet had been the female version of a player. She never lasted very long with a guy, but she never lied or led them on. Every man she ever dated knew the score. Winslet Payne wasn’t going to get married or have children.

She’d thought about it once when she’d been twenty-two. What a mistake that had been, and she swore she’d never let another man have her heart. Or tell her what to do or how to do it. So, when she hooked up with Shamus, she fought her feelings from the get-go.

But three months in, she couldn’t do it anymore.

She loved him with everything she was and was willing to change her stripes.

They talked about marriage and what it might look like for them, including where they might settle. He even asked her if she wanted children.

Or maybe it was she who brought it up first.

It didn’t matter.

But now she was left with an unyielding need for something different. It wasn’t that she wanted it with Shamus anymore, because she didn’t. That was over and she wouldn’t go back. Not even if he left his wife.

She shivered at that thought. Winslet was no homewrecker.

“It’s weird to say we broke up when I found out he was married already.” Winslet let out a puff of air. Tears no longer stung her eyes, but the shame of it all burned her heart like a cattle prod. She was a smart woman. The fact she hadn’t seen the signs still tore through her soul like an out-of-control beast racing through the wilderness. When she’d learned the truth, she immediately withdrew her request for a guest lecture at the same college he’d accepted a position. Did he not think she’d find out when she got to town? She wanted them to live together. How would that have been possible when he brought his wife and two kids?

Fucker.

“He’s an asshole and I’m glad you found out before you did something even crazier. Like accepted a full-time professorship.” Emory smiled that sweet grin of hers that made Winslet melt. “Though, you know, I’ll follow you almost anywhere. I love being your assistant both in the teaching world and in the forensics lab.”

“What about being my best friend?”

Emory laughed. “That one goes without saying.” She kissed her cheek. “Are you sure you’re going to be okay? I’m worried that you are going to respond to his message.”

“I’m not going to give him the satisfaction. One more drink, and then I’m going to walk home. I’ll see you on Monday. Enjoy the weekend with Oscar. He’s a good egg and I’m so excited for both of you. I really am.”

“He’s going to be totally shocked, even though we’ve been trying for a year now.” Emory turned on her heel and strolled out the front door.

Winslet sighed. She wasn’t jealous of Emory and her husband. Far from it. She loved Oscar like a brother. His job as a data project manager for one of the largest marketing firms in North America made it so he could work from anywhere. It did require some travel. Lots of conference calls. But they didn’t come any better than Oscar. He adored Emory and treated her like a princess.

Glancing at the bar, she groaned. Only one seat open, right next to the sexy newcomer. She’d heard all about Zeke’s buddy, the great Jett McCoy. The man who nearly died a little over a year ago. A true hero. For the past few weeks, Zeke had been bristling with excitement over Jett’s arrival. It was all that man could talk about.

Oh, how this town would gossip if she plopped herself down next to him.

But if she wanted a nightcap in a room full of people so she didn’t feel like she was drinking alone, she didn’t have a choice. There wasn’t an open table left and now that Emory was going to be gone for the weekend, Winslet wanted to get shitfaced here because it was the only way Winslet would get through the night without calling Shamus.

Sad, but true.

And if she did end up speaking with Shamus, the next call would be to Emory, and she would have something to say about that.

Not that Emory would be too harsh over it all, but still. There would be words. Emory would start in on how there were other fish in the sea because at the end of the day, Shamus wasn’t going to leave his wife, and Winslet didn’t want him to. At least not for her. She wasn’t that girl.

And Winslet didn’t want another fish. She didn’t want Shamus either. All she wanted was to get lost in her work, but so far, no new dig had come her way, and no weird bones had been unearthed either.

Besides, she had to reconcile the fact that if she took an assignment in some foreign country, the likelihood that Emory would follow now that she was pregnant was slim to none.

Winslet would have to find another assistant if she made that choice, a reality she had to accept.

She hoisted herself up on the bench. “Hey, Zeke, can I get a straight tequila with a lime.”

“Coming up.” Zeke wiped down the counter. “Have you met my buddy Jett?” he asked with a wide smile.

“Can’t say that I have, and I’m shocked you’re making the introductions.” She took the glass Zeke offered and raised it.

“I warned him about you.” Zeke chuckled, waggling his index finger. “In a kind and loving sort of way.”

“Of course you did.” She’d known Zeke for as long as he’d owned this bar, and that was too many years to count. He was like that weird older cousin who was always there, watching over her, waiting to catch her when she fell.

And he had once or twice.

Zeke had a big heart, and he loved hard. She was lucky to call him friend. If anyone else had made that kind of comment, she wouldn’t have taken it in the sarcastic way that Zeke had delivered it.

Jett coughed and pounded the center of his chest. “You should be offended.” He raised his drink. “I’m offended for you.”

She shrugged. “Nah. It would be like me not telling one of my girlfriends about that guy over there.” She jerked her thumb over her shoulder. “Talk about a player. Only, he comes on like he’s all madly in love with you. Treats you all special, and then next thing you know, he’s banging someone else. All Zeke here did was probably tell you I’m a straight shooter who never stays in one place too long and I haven’t had a real boyfriend since I was in my early twenties.” She tilted her head back and downed her drink as if it were a tall glass of ice water. “Only, that’s not entirely true since the whole reason no one in this town can gossip about my bed partners this semester is because I let some asshole into my heart, and he ripped it from my chest.” She waved her glass under Zeke’s nose. “Fill her up and leave the bottle.” Resenting the idea her best friend was about to start a family made her want to crawl under the bar because she really wasn’t upset over Emory’s good news. It wasn’t that at all. It was merely the fact she’d wanted that too.

With a married man.

How awful was that?

“Jesus, Winslet. What happened?” Zeke poured a single shot in her glass. Jerk. She’d wanted a double. Or maybe a triple. “Does this man need me to teach him a lesson? Because you know I will.”

“That’s real sweet of you.” She sucked in a deep breath. The fact that Emory was going to tell Oscar he was about to become a father this weekend had brought all these emotions back to the surface, and adding that Shamus had reached out, asking if they could talk, shouldn’t be the reason she told Zeke or a perfect stranger. But what were good bartenders for? “Since his wife still doesn’t know about me, nor do his kids, and I don’t want to be a homewrecker, it’s best you keep your fists to yourself.”

Zeke set the bottle on the counter with a thud. “Don’t get pissed, but did you know?”

“That’s a fair question and the answer is absolutely not,” she said. “I found out when I showed up early to the same place we were scheduled to give a lecture. He was kissing her and his kids goodbye. Talk about a shock.”

“That sucks for both you, her, and the kids.” Jett reached across the bar, lifted the bottle of tequila, and refilled his glass. “But if you didn’t know, you’re not the homewrecker, he is, and if you were in her shoes, wouldn’t you want to know?”

“The moral dilemma of the last few months of my life.” She clanked her glass against his before downing her drink in one gulp. The effects of the alcohol she’d consumed that evening hit her brain like a rocket ship hurling through the atmosphere. “However, I’m still not going to be the one to tell her. I already feel like a skank. That would make me feel like a whore.”

Zeke took her hand. “I don’t want to ever hear that word come out of your mouth. You might be a little rough around the edges, but a whore, you are not.”

“Thanks, Zeke, but I have to ask. If you don’t think that way about me, why do you and all your buddies warn men about me?”

“For the record, I’ve never said a bad thing. But I think you know that. And it’s not a warning.” Zeke lowered his chin and took her hand. “After what happened with Harvey, we all believed you’d never go down that road again.”

“Who’s Harvey?” Jett asked.

“My ex-fiancé.” She shivered. “Three days before I was set to marry that asshole, I found him in bed with the chick I hired to do the alterations to my wedding dress. That bitch never did give me my money back.” She poured more tequila into her glass, ignoring Zeke and his friend, who stared at her with wide, judgmental eyes. Or at least she believed they judged her. Hell, she often judged herself, but only because the events of her past still held her present—and future—hostage. “No. I’m not bitter. Not really. I mean, they are standing the test of time.” She shrugged. “And I heard she’s pregnant with their third. Who am I to stand in the way of true love? But let’s just say that after spending years swearing I’d never do it again, well, it just sucks that I had to fall for a dick.”

“You and Jett seem to have that in common.” Zeke took the bottle and put it behind the bar.

She turned. “Really? You have shit taste in boyfriends?” She hiccupped.

Jett chuckled. “You’re funny. And also very drunk. Give me your keys so I can make sure you get home safely.”

“I walked.” She hiccupped again. Not a good sign.

“Well, then I will walk you home,” Jett said.

“She’s subleasing in your building.” Zeke glanced at his watch. “I need to get home. Told the wife I was just coming in to hang for a few hours with the guys and do some paperwork. I’ll see you two later. Those last few drinks were on the house.” He pressed his hand on the counter. “Winslet, call me if you need anything. I know I give you a fair amount of shit, but we’ve known each other a long time. I’ve got your back. Anything you need, even if all you want is to talk.”

“I know you do, and I need to reach out to Weston and Haven and thank them for always keeping my grandparents’ case on their desk. I know they don’t have to do that.” She covered her mouth as another belch flew from her lips.

“Make sure she gets home okay.” Zeke waved his finger. “Call me in the morning.”

“Will do.” Jett nodded.

Damn man was a fucking Boy Scout.

If she wasn’t well on her way to being falling down wasted, she’d tell Zeke to take a hike, along with his incredibly sexy friend. But considering all the tequila she consumed, she’d be passed out in less than an hour. She grabbed Mr. Tall-Drink-of-Something’s arm and squeezed. Wow, that was an impressive biceps. “Come on. I need to get home. Sorry if that was before you wanted to leave, but I’m beyond my limit and I know more than one idiot in this bar who might be willing to take advantage of a drunk girl.”

He helped her from the stool and guided her through the sea of staring people. The gossip mills would be all abuzz in the morning. Wonderful.

“And how are you so sure I wouldn’t?” He cocked a brow.

“Because you’re friends with Zeke.” She stumbled through the front door. “His buddies aren’t like that and if they were, he’d kick the shit out of them.” She looped her arm through his, giving it a good hug. “Don’t care how muscular you are.” She glanced up. “Or that you have to be close to six foot four, he’d hurt you.”

“I’m six three and he’d put me six feet under.” He looped his arm around her waist. “My truck’s right over there.”

“I’d rather walk. It will be fine there for the night.”

“Whatever you say.” He nodded. “Mind if I ask you a personal question?”

“Shoot.”

“Why do you let people talk about you like that?”

She let out a long breath. “First, other people’s opinions of me aren’t my business. Second, I can’t control what the world thinks of me. And third, it used to work in keeping any man who wanted anything other than a good time far away. Now all I get are those trying to tame me. Make an honest woman out of me. Well, after what Shamus did, I think I’ll sleep in the middle of the bed for a while.”

Jett laughed. “Not all men are assholes, just like I’m sure not all women are heartless bitches.”

“Sounds like someone’s speaking from experience.” She paused, bent over, and kicked out of her heels. She rarely wore the suckers but thought it might be nice to dress herself up today. Stupid idea.

“Are you sure you want to go barefoot? We still have three more blocks to go.”

“I’ll be fine,” she said. “Now, since I most likely won’t remember half this conversation, why don’t you tell me about why you’re harboring some resentment against my sex.”

“That’s not exactly what I’m doing.” They paused at the red light two streets over from the apartment building. “My ex-wife divorced me because I was cold. Unfeeling. Emotionally unavailable. According to her, and I’m not going to deny it, I was more interested in my career and my buddies than I was her.”

“Then why did you get married?”

“I didn’t say I didn’t love her, because as much as I’m capable of loving someone who isn’t blood, or who isn’t going into battle with me, she rocked my world. But for her, it was a one-sided relationship and one day, I came home, and it was just over. I knew she was unhappy. We fought all the time. But what I didn’t know was that she’d already checked out and was seeing someone else.”

“How did that make you feel?”

“I was angry for like five seconds. Truth is, I didn’t love her enough to fight for her, but I loved her enough to let her go.”

“I think that’s the most mature thing I’ve ever heard a man say.” She leaned into his strong body, resting her head on his shoulder as they strolled toward the next crosswalk. “Any other big romances?”

“Not sure I’d call it big, but right before I nearly died in a helicopter crash about sixteen months ago, I was seeing this girl. She couldn’t deal with my injuries. Six months after the accident, she bailed.”

Winslet glanced up, catching his gaze. She liked the timbre of his voice and enjoyed how he had no problem sharing his broken heart stories. But he did so in a flat, unfeeling manner that unsettled her insides. “How bad was it, outside of the near-death experience? I mean, all Zeke said was you were mortally wounded.”

He chuckled. “Let’s just say I’m lucky I can walk, and I have more metal in me than a half dozen senior citizens combined.”

“Ouch. That sounds painful.”

“It was.”

She hiccupped. Not once. Not twice. But three times in a row. “Sorry.”

“No worries.” He paused at the base of their building.

“I have a feeling that I might end up spending half the night in front of the toilet. And tomorrow’s going to suck in a different way.”

“Probably.” He unlocked the door. “What floor and what apartment?”

“I’m in 1B. I sublet it from this guy who finished up his master’s degree last year and was waiting to hear about a job. It came through right before Christmas, which was nice because I really didn’t want to live with my parents.”

“Looks like we’re neighbors, since I just signed a year lease for 1A.”

Her stomach sloshed and swished like a dead fish on a roller-coaster ride. This was so not a good idea. She lifted her finger and punched in her passcode but fumbled it the first try. “Shit,” she mumbled. Leaning forward, squinting, she tried again.

The little thing beeped, and the lock twisted. She flung the door open and tripped over… she had no idea what.

“I got you.” Jett circled his arms around her body.

Her hands came down on his solid chest. She blinked, staring up into his dark orbs. “Thsank you for making sssure I got hom swaftly.” Her tongue felt like it stuck to the roof of her mouth.

“Anytime.” He brushed her hair from her face. “I don’t feel right about leaving you here alone.”

“I’ll be fine.” While she appreciated Jett walking her home, simply because she most likely wouldn’t have made it by herself, all she wanted to do now was shed her clothes and empty her stomach.

And she didn’t want to do that with him around.

“You had enough booze to choke a horse. Someone needs to watch over you.”

“Not neces… Oh God.” She pushed from his embrace and raced off toward the bathroom. While she could normally handle her liquor, the double shots after a few glasses of wine and some shots in between to celebrate Emory’s good news—well, that was a lot, even for her.

She dropped to her knees, lifted the seat, and let her stomach revolt.

And revolt.

God, she hated being sick. At least this part wouldn’t last. Or so she hoped. She wiped her lips, flushed, and rested her head on the toilet, letting out a long breath. Maybe she should sleep right here.

Yeah. That was a solid plan.

Why did she think returning to this town would be a good idea? All it did was remind her that her family was always the center of the town gossip, thanks to her grandfather—and father. Which was only made worse because she’d been basically left standing at the altar.

“Here. Drink this.”

She jerked, stiffening her spine, remembering she’d left Jett in the other room. She glanced over her shoulder and groaned. “How long have you been standing there holding that bottle of water?”

“Does it really matter?” He bent over, looped his arm around her waist, and guided her into the only other room. Gently, he laid her on the bed, shoving the water in her face and a bucket next to her pillow. “Seriously, you need to hydrate.” He pointed toward the dresser. “What drawer are your pajamas in?”

She dribbled water all down her chin. “Excuse me?”

He didn’t bother glancing over his shoulder. Instead, he yanked open the top one and pulled out a pair of boxers and a tank top.

“Yeah. That will do.” She shimmied out of her jeans and yanked up the boxers he tossed in her direction. “Turn around.”

“No problem,” he said with a chuckle.

After she finished changing her top, she crawled between the sheets and closed her eyes, thankful the room didn’t spin.

But the bed did shift. And rock. And squeak.

She sighed.

“Thanks for seeing me home. The door will lock thirty seconds after you leave.”

“Just close your eyes and rest,” Jett whispered.

She hugged her pillow and prayed that she’d sleep right through the weekend and most likely the worst hangover known to man.