No One Knows Part 4

Aubrey felt herself leaning forward, drowning in his eyes, dark like the deepest coffee.

"Um, Aubs, are you going to fill the man's cup, or do I need to do it?"

The spell was broken. Aubrey tore her eyes away. She glanced at Meghan, who was looking at her with undisguised curiosity. Flustered, she grabbed the man's cup. Their fingers touched, and she pulled her hand back as if she'd been burned. The man didn't look away; he continued to stare at Aubrey with something akin to wonderment.

Meghan's eyes narrowed.

"Do you know each other?"

"We don't," Aubrey said, as the man chimed in, "Yes, we do."

Meghan cleared her throat. "Well then. I need to get things cleaned up. Why don't you two catch up?" She turned tail and scooted away, seizing upon Linda, making her way toward Aubrey and the stranger like a crocheted guided missile, and steered her off course to the back of the store, but not before Linda caught Aubrey's eye and gave her a small thumbs-up.

Aubrey was filled with guilt, and shame, and embarrassment. What must that have looked like? Had she just panted after a strange man like a dog in heat, in front of two of her dearest friends? This was not acceptable. Yes, he was handsome, and had a nice voice, and beautiful eyes. But her husband was dead, officially, as of today. She wasn't an idiot. She knew where the asserted attachment was coming from. She was tired of being lonely. But now was not the right time.

"I must be going as well," she managed, untying her smock.

The man was still watching her closely. "You can't just leave."

"Sure I can."

"I've been thinking about you since I ran into you at the park."

"How nice." She started to move around the counter toward the door.

"My name is Chase. And you are?"

He stuck out his hand to shake, and without thinking, she took it. "Aubrey, and I have an early day tomorrow."

"Tomorrow is Saturday. How early can you get started on a weekend? Let me buy you a drink."

"Is this how you end all your days? Asking strange women out for drinks?" And she smiled.

What the hell was that? It had been so long since she flirted with anyone that she didn't recognize the warmth when he responded in kind, took a step closer to her, and leaned on the counter.

"We aren't strangers. You're Aubrey, and I'm Chase. We bumped into each other earlier today. Obviously, we are destined to have a drink. Come on. Just one. You can tell me who Josh is. You seemed like you were surprised I wasn't him."

Aubrey felt like she'd been slapped. She shook her head. No. No way. He wasn't allowed to use the name so carelessly, so easily. She couldn't tell a complete stranger the story, much less a man with espresso eyes.

Meghan popped up. Figured she was lurking nearby, eavesdropping.

"Oh, go on, Aubrey. Sam's is still open. Linda and I will meet you over there in a bit."

Aubrey heard the unspoken promise: We won't leave you alone with a stranger, honey. Go on, have a drink. We'll be right behind you to make sure you're okay.

"Yes, please join us," Chase said, and Aubrey could hear the slightest tinge of annoyance in his tone. For some reason, that made her feel good. He wanted to be alone with her.

Aubrey Marie Trenton Hamilton, you are a first-class idiot.

But there was something about this man that she simply couldn't understand, some draw that she hadn't felt in many, many years.

Josh's face floated into her mind, his blue eyes smiling, nodding, almost as if to say, Yes, Aubrey. Go. She wanted to hold on to that image so badly, of him smiling at her, but the moment her mind reached out to grab it, it dissipated like smoke.

Five years. Five years later, she was bumping into her future at last.

The truth was, Chase reminded her of Josh, and tonight, she wanted to find a way to be close to him.

She watched him watching her, nodded.

"All right. But just one drink."

CHAPTER 9.

Sam's: dark wood, gleaming brass fixtures, a long bar punctuated by comfortable stools, and wooden tables spread higgledy-piggledy throughout. It was easy to pull up a chair, gather the tables into groups for larger parties, or slip one off by its own for a twosome. Students rubbed elbows with songwriters and country music stars and Titans players and off-duty doctors and soccer moms. Just one of those Nashville things. Everyone came to this town with a dream, and ended up kaleidoscoped together into a single shifting, pulsing entity.

As usual, the bar was packed. Aubrey didn't particularly want to run into anyone she knew; this used to be their hangout, hers and Josh's, and many of their friends still popped in on occasion. Of course, all of them were busy with their own lives now, raising families, and didn't get out unless there was money for a babysitter. Date night, they called it. For a woman who'd only ever operated under the auspices of every night being date night, Aubrey worried for them. Having to schedule time with your husband to be married seemed counterproductive.

She was a bit confused as to why Meghan suggested Sam's, of all places, actually. But she didn't want to worry about it too much. She was feeling reckless and slightly daring. She hadn't so much as glanced at a man in a friendly way for the past five years, and yet here she was, about to have a drink with a stranger, one whose walk reminded her of Josh.

The extended, unprepped run had clearly deprived her brain of necessary oxygen.

She knew the din lessened a bit in the back. Two birds with one stone. It was quieter, and away from most of the prying eyes. She gestured for him to follow her, found a table for four in the far corner. He pulled her chair out for her. Once she was settled, he looked around.

"Nice place. Should I go to the bar and get our drinks?" Chase asked.

"That's all right. Someone will be here in a minute."

"Okay."

He sat opposite her, one hand on the table, palm open, relaxed.

What did that mean? When Josh had done that, it was an invitation for her to take his hand, where he would rub the underside of her wrist and make tingles shoot between her legs.

They lapsed into silence. He was watching her, gauging, and she truly had no idea where to start. Or why she was here.

She was saved by Vincenzo, one of the regular waiters. He came out of the back and saw her sitting in the corner, immediately joined them with a big grin on his perpetually tanned moon face. He pulled her to her feet and hugged her.

"Aubrey! It's been too long. How are you? You're too skinny, let me get you some food."

"Everyone keeps trying to feed me. Really, I'm fine."

Vincenzo shook his head and poured on the accent. "In Italia, we like our women to have some meat on their bones." He traced an hourglass in the air, waggling his considerable eyebrows.

"You're from Franklin, Vinny. Nice try."

He laughed and gestured inquisitively toward Chase.

"Who's this?"

She was surprised at the welcoming tone-Vinny and Josh had been good friends. Apparently, everyone wanted to feed her, and see her get laid. Everyone had moved on but her.

"Chase-um . . ."

"Boden," he supplied helpfully.

God, how embarrassing. But Vinnie seemed unfazed.

Chase put out a hand. "I'm from Chicago, actually, just here in town to see the sights. Aubrey and I have bumped into each other twice today, I figured it was a sign."

"He was at Frothy Joe's. We're just waiting for Meghan and Linda. Having a quick drink."

"Nice ta meetcha." Vinny shook Chase's hand, then moved his mother hen act back to Aubrey. "You work too much, you never come see me anymore. I see you run by sometimes."

"I'll do better, I promise."

Chase was smiling at her. "What would you like to drink?" he asked.

"I'll have what you're having."

Chase looked up at Vinny. "Tanqueray and tonic, with a slice of lime. Tall, if you don't mind." He looked back at her. "Is that okay?"

Aubrey felt that crazy zing again. "Yes, that's fine. My favorite, actually."

"That's funny. Mine, too."

With his words came an easy smile. She got it now. He was playing her. Anger bubbled to the surface.

She stood. "Chase, I'm sorry. I need to go."

He stood, too. "Why?" He looked genuinely confused.

"I think there's been some sort of misunderstanding. I wasn't even supposed to work tonight. It was a lark on my part. I've had a very long, very bad day. It's been a long five years, as a matter of fact. And I don't know what Meghan told you about me, but I'm not into that. This. You. I can't go there. So you'll excuse me. Thanks for . . . Well, see ya."

She was three feet away, congratulating herself on getting out while the getting was good, when she felt his hand on her arm.

His hand.

Her breath left her in a whoosh.

He turned her slowly. After a second's resistance, she allowed herself to be maneuvered to face him.

Those dark chocolate eyes bored into her.

"Aubrey, I don't know what you're talking about. I don't know anything about you outside of the fact that you chased me down earlier, called me Josh, then showed up at the coffee shop behind the counter when I needed a refill. For all I know, you're stalking me."

He smiled, and it was crooked, the left edge of his lip quirking up-just like Josh's-and she shut her eyes and pretended that the hand on her arm belonged to the ghost of a man she missed dreadfully. After a few moments, she opened her eyes, nodded, and let Chase lead her back in the chair.

"Want to tell me what's going on?" he asked.

Vinny arrived with the drinks. She was silent until he left, took a huge long pull on the straw, felt the familiar, bitter pull of the gin. Liquid courage.

She met Chase's eyes again.

"My husband . . ."

He actually sat back in his chair. She really knew how to grab someone's attention.

"I didn't know you were married."

How could he miss that? She glanced down at her finger. Her ring wasn't on.

She panicked for a moment, then remembered. She'd slipped it off before the shower like she always did after a long run, because getting soap in the grooves chafed the swollen flesh.

And she'd forgotten to put it back on.

Holy shit.

She took a deep breath. Her therapist had always told her things happen for a reason.

But her wedding ring?

On the day he was declared dead?

And here she was, sitting across from another man. She was a terrible person.

"Chase, I don't know what's wrong with me. I never leave my house without it. I know, I am a walking contradiction. Yes. I'm married. Was married. Am. He, Josh, went missing five years ago."

"What happened?"

This should fix things.

"The police think I murdered him."

He didn't miss a beat. "Did you?"

"No. But it didn't stop them from putting me through hell."

"Jesus. That sounds like a mystery novel."

She laughed humorlessly. "He disappeared the night of his best friend's bachelor party. The courts have just declared him legally dead. Today, I mean."

He sat back in his chair, looking stunned. "You must be terribly upset."