Whenever I’d had a bottle in my hand and Jamie passed me, he’d thought it amusing to duck whenever our eyes met. His attempts at humor weren’t winning me round, given he’d skipped out months before and had left my heart shredded.
By closing time my heart was full of dread, and short of staying up all night cleaning, I knew I could no longer avoid him.
Terry had been eyeing Jamie with suspicion all night, and as the last of the customers filed out the door, he tapped me on the shoulder.
“Are you going to be okay with him staying the night?”
“I think the question you should be asking is if Barney’s going to be alright. When he first showed up, I’d a strong urge to kick his arse out the door… the kicking part is still raging within me,” I replied honestly.
Terry followed my gaze. “I have to admit, Daiz, he’s a fucking good-looking guy. Don’t let the way he looks sway what you feel in there.” He pointed at my chest.
Taking his coat of the peg behind the bar he shrugged it on.
“I wonder what it’s like to have women show up just to be near you. He’s been good for business tonight,” he remarked. What Terry didn’t realize was there were more than a few that turned up at the bar for him too.
His comment about Jamie did nothing to settle my nerves at facing him and if looks could have killed, Terry would have been a smoking pile of flesh after that comment.
“Some of the girls seem to think he is a dead ringer for that rock star, but I heard a couple of them warning the others he’s your Canadian pen friend with benefits.” Terry winked, because he knew exactly who he was.
I smirked at the stupid guise Jamie and I had agreed on when he’d turned up at the pub for the first time.
“He’s… feck,” I cussed, irritated. “I’ll be fine,” I managed after taking a measured breath to calm my racing heart. “All I want to know is why he left like he did, and then he can leave again.”
Terry rubbed my back. “Now, Daiz, don’t go upsetting yourself over an unreliable man.” He cleared his throat and gave me a thoughtful look. I nodded, as if agreeing with him, but I already felt depressed. I had thought I was getting over him, now I knew that was a lie.
Chapter 3
Jamie had already made it upstairs and was sitting watching the TV by the time I had gone up to join him. “Make yourself at home,” I drawled, sarcastically.
Seeing me enter the room he immediately pointed the remote, turned off the TV and stood up. He flashed me a nervous smile.
“At last, I thought we’d never be alone,” he told me, sounding like he’d meant every word. He rounded the back of the couch, which was placed at the centre of the room, and stopped in front of me. “You look beautiful, Daisy. I’ve missed you so much.”
I noticed he’d balled his fists by his side in his effort not to invade my personal space. I took small pleasure from his uncertainty because, at that point, I wasn’t sure of us, either.
“You think you can disappear for months and waltz back here full of your fecking rock star charm, flash me a few sexy smiles, and my panties will fall to the floor?” The bitterness in my tone sounded sharp.
“No, that’s not what I think at all,” he snapped, looking insulted I’d thought that.
“Then what is this? Why are you here after all these months and not a word?” I asked, pacing the floor before stopping again in front of him. “Actions speak louder than words and I haven’t seen any action from you for months.” He smiled and lifted a brow, suggestively. “And don’t fecking smile at me, that’s not the kind of action I meant. Have you no idea how much you hurt me?” I asked, throwing my hands out to the sides. My heart shredded at not being able to touch him. “Really hurt me?” I felt tears threaten and swallowed them back. “It's taken me from when you left until now to get my head on straight, and now, here you are, uninvited and unannounced, and I don’t know what to do with you,” I admitted, gesturing my hand toward him.
“Daisy, if you’ll—”
“I’m not done,” I said quickly, and he stood up straighter, like a boy being chastised. “Where did you go?”
“If you’ll just—”
I held my hand up to silence him. “You abandoned me, and what the feck was that shite with that woman from your record company? Do you know how impersonal and humiliating that felt? I had to cut the call when she started talking about DNA tests. In case your management aren’t aware, they’re dealing with real people with feelings.”
“Daisy—”
“And don’t ‘Daisy’ me. Was I supposed to be excited to have been thrown a bone or something? I may only be twenty-five, but I run a small but busy bar here in Dublin, and I’ve dealt with many rogues in my time, but my feelings have never been disregarded in such a callous way by anyone before. If that's the way you and your world treat ordinary people like me, I want nothing to do with it.”
By the time I had finished ranting, my chest heaved rapidly, my temper had turned to tears, and I hid my face in my hands in a vain attempt to hide my distress.
“Daisy,” he implored again, his voice soft, deep and filled with raw compassion. “The last thing I ever wanted to do was to hurt you. Please let me explain,” he pleaded. “I know it’s been a long time, too long. Can I hug you?”
I stared, thrown for a moment by his request. I shook my head. “No.” I snapped. When he winced, my heart felt bruised that I’d rejected him. “I know you being here should mean something; it does mean something, but I don’t trust what you’re telling me right now.” The look of dejection on his face almost killed me. “God, how can I hate you and feel guilty for saying no at the same time?” I asked, feeling helpless, and folding my arms across my chest to stop me from giving in to him. “Go ahead and explain, I’m all ears.”
Leaning one arm on the back of the couch, he ran the other through his hair and eyed me with a mixture of concern and hurt in his.
“Jesus, Daisy, I’m sorry—”
“Saying sorry isn't enough, I was a fool to fall in love with you,” I blurted before he could get any further. “I should have listened to Frances. She told me you were passing the time with me and questioned why a famous rock star would want to stay with a pub landlady. But, oh no, stupid me, I dared to dream what we’d had was real.”
“Frances? Stop. If you’d just let me get a word in, I can explain,” he pleaded, softly, as he compelled me to listen by pleading again with his gorgeous brown eyes.
My heart pumped rapidly and almost exploded with frustration in my fight not to give in and touch him. I wandered around the couch and sat down. Jamie walked around the other side and sat on the arm of it, facing me.
Taking a deep breath, he exhaled slowly and looked into my eyes.
“For the last four months, I’ve been in lock down… in a recording studio. I’ve been in a rural location in the Caribbean … in Montserrat, if you need to know exactly where. I didn’t know where I was going when I left. You may or may not have heard the expression ‘the difficult second album’? If not, it’s where a band’s first release does so well, we are showered with praise and record companies give bigger advances. Everyone wants to know the band. Afterward, the pressure to repeat that magic makes creating new material you feel confident to put out there, fucking impossible … nothing feels like it matches up.”