Shattered Dreams (Dream #1)

Chapter Twenty

Autumn

I watch him sitting there with Emmett and a couple of the ranch hands, and my whole body feels like it’s on fire, literally burning up. “Are you okay?”

Brady asks, and before I turn to look at him, Charlie turns his gaze over to me. We lock our eyes for what feels like an eternity before I look at Brady.

“I’m fine. Why?”

I ask him, my hands a touch shaky.

“You look all flushed and shit,”

he notes, putting the tray down on the bar top.

“I’m fine,”

I lie to him. I’m not fine. I’m the opposite of fine. I was fine this morning when I walked in here, but then people started coming in. A table of two, then a table of six, and by the time I looked around the bar, it was almost full. I honestly couldn’t believe my eyes, but then he walked in. The man who I thought, after everything was said and done, would never want to be in the same room as me. But then he walked in the door, and I felt the air being sucked out of me.

“You sure you’re good?”

he asks, looking around. “I’m okay with you leaving.”

I raise my eyebrows at him. “Um, how are you going to serve…”

I turn and count the number of tables, and when I look at Charlie’s table, he’s still looking at me. I try not to let it get to me, but how he looks at me is different from the last couple of times. “Fifteen tables plus the half-full stools.”

“I would handle it.”

He rolls his eyes, and I laugh. “Do you want to switch it up?”

His eyes go to me, then to the four women sitting at the bar, laughing at something.

“No.”

I shake my head. “The last thing we need is for you to—”

“I’m not doing anything.”

He feigns innocence. “I’m just trying to help you out.”

“Be a doll”—I fake smile at him—“help me out by going back and checking on your tables and getting more orders.”

He taps the bar top for a couple of seconds before grabbing his tray and turning on his way.

I walk to the far end of the bar. “Are you good?”

I ask a couple of men who came in and sat together. They let me know they are in town for the week for some convention or something in the next town over, but all the hotels were booked.

“I’ll take another one of the house blends,”

the man says, lifting to finish the rest of his glass, “neat.”

“Will do.”

I grab his glass while the guy next to him says he’s fine.

I step to the group of four girls, who have been drinking white wine this whole time. “Can I get you guys anything else?”

I ask them with a smile on my face.

“We were thinking of trying some of the whiskey,”

the blond one says, “but we don’t like anything strong.”

“Give me a second,”

I tell them, going over to fill the other order before returning to them.

“I have something,”

I tell them. “It’s a blackberry mint mojito, but instead of rum, it’s bourbon.”

“Oh,”

the brunette chirps, “let’s try it. Can we do a taste sample of it?”

“You sure can.”

I nod at them, going over to the shaker and filling it with blackberries, mint, sugar, and bourbon, before covering it and shaking it well. I take the cover off and strain it into four little tasting glasses. I turn and place them in front of the women, who look at the drink that turned pink because of the blackberries being shaken. “Let me know what you think.”

I feel him before I see him. My heart rate picks up, and my stomach tightens. I turn to the side, watching him lean against the side of the bar where Brady was just standing. I watch the women pick their glasses up, and then one of them looks over at Charlie, and her eyes light up. I mean, I’m not surprised. He was always turning heads whenever we walked into the room. “He’s a tall glass of water,”

the woman states, bringing the glass to her lips, and her friends laugh at her.

“I don’t think that’s how it goes.”

The blonde shakes her head. “You’ve been in this town for a day, and all of a sudden, you are country.”

“It’s been thirty-six hours,”

she fights back, “and I’m moving here.”

I just stand here folding my arms over my chest. “You know, they don’t have one drive-through coffee shop,”

the third woman says, “and I checked to order something last night and it said unavailable.”

She puts her hand on her chest, thinking about the horror of it. The four of them have driven down from New York to see, as they said, the South. I don’t even know what that means but I do know if any of them think they are going to move here, it’ll be over in three days… tops. She puts the glass to her lips and takes a sip of it. “Oh, this is good.”

She finishes it. “So refreshing and it’s not strong.”

The rest of them take a sip and they all open their eyes.

“Oh, I’ll have one like that.”

I nod at them as they all order one before turning and walking to where I was making the drink, which is right next to Charlie.

I look at him, taking a deep breath in. “I’ll just be a minute,”

I say, rinsing out the shaker and not looking at him. I make four of the drinks and hand them to the women. “Cheers, ladies.”

I smile, trying to tell myself that it’s going to be fine.

I walk back over to him, and now he’s leaning on one elbow on the bar. “Hey,”

I say to him, “what can I get you?”

“Hey,”

he tosses back, “nothing. I was just coming to see how you are.”

His words shock me so much I have to blink my eyes a couple of times. “Hey, Charlie,”

Brady says, coming up to his side, “do you need anything?”

“No.”

He shakes his head. “Just talking to Autumn.”

I’m not the only one shocked by this, so is Brady; it’s no surprise to anyone that Charlie hates me. It’s especially not a surprise to Brady, who ran interference when he showed up at my house two days after I moved out. A conversation I have yet to know what was said, nor did I want to know.

“Um,”

Brady starts, looking at me and then looking at Charlie. “Okay,”

he says, not sure about what is going on. He doesn’t have a chance to say anything because someone raises their hand in the air to get his attention.

“It’s okay,”

I reassure him, and he pushes off, but not before he gives Charlie a look of warning.

“Can I get a glass of water?”

he asks me and I nod, turning to go get him a glass before filling it with water. “I’ll be back.”

He pushes away and walks back to his friends. I let go of the breath I was holding, needing to move my feet.

I walk around the bar, heading to a couple of tables and asking them if everything is okay. I take a second to look at the almost full bar, and I can’t help but feel a bit proud of it. Brady hands me the tray before walking to the back of the bar and going to the women. I make my way around the bar and try to act normal when I head to Charlie’s table. He sits there with his back against the booth and his one ankle on his other knee. “Can I get you guys anything?”

“Just the bill,”

Emmett says, smiling at me.

“I’ll take care of it,”

Charlie quickly offers, “you can get it next time.”

“Thank you.”

He gets up, and I walk over to the bar area, grabbing a pad and heading back over to him with his bill in my hand.

“Here you go.”

I hand him the bill, and he takes it. Our fingers graze each other, and the back of my neck tingles. “You can go and pay Brady.”

I quickly turn around and head to the rest of the tables. They slowly trickle out, and when I look back, I see the group of four women are a little bit gone with the wind as they laugh at Brady saying something. I spot Charlie sitting on a stool at the far end of the bar.

I look at my watch, noting it’s just past midnight, and the women are the only ones left. “Okay, last call,”

I announce, walking behind the bar, and the girls all groan.

“Where does one get a taxi?”

The blonde leans into the bar, and I have to close my eyes.

“Where are you staying?”

I ask, and she shrugs before reaching into her purse and taking out a card with a B my body is still as his head covers the light from the moon, and he moves his head to the side of my face, kissing my cheek. “You look good tonight, Autumn,”

he says softly in my ear. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He kisses my cheek one more time before he steps back and opens my door for me to get in. I quickly get into the car, and when I turn back to look at him, all he says is, “Drive safe.”

Then the door is shut in my face.

I watch him in the rearview mirror walk around to his truck, my heart lurching, my hands holding the steering wheel while my head spins. “What the hell is happening?”