Looking at the clock, I realize I've only been asleep for two hours. It's only eleven and the chances of falling back into the memory I just woke from not really pushing me to go back to dreamland anytime soon.
Throwing the blanket off my damp body, I rush through a shower and head for a bar in Fairhope. I'm not chancing another run in with Callie or Deacon, or God forbid Mason. Fairhope is close enough for an Uber and far enough away I don't think anyone from the Williams clan will be there.
A quick towel dry and I'm stepping into my boxer briefs, jeans, and a plain black t-shirt. My phone dings and announces the incoming ride. The driver is quiet and soft jazz is playing through his speakers.
"Here we are," the driver says as he pulls up to McSharry's.
"Thanks, bud." I fiddle with my phone to tip the driver as I scoot out of the low bucket seats in the back.
As I walk through the doors of the Irish pub, the first thing I'm met with is the rancid smell of stale beer. Sure, we're in the hoity toity part of Mobile Bay, but you can't keep the trash from seeping through the pearly gates.
I take a cursory glance around the bar. The shine of blond hair catches my attention. There’s only a number of people who have hair that angelic and unfortunately this one is one of Callie’s friends. Of course, Cora's here. Her daddy owns half the damn town, not that he's spared a minute for his only child. She's been friends with Callie since they were young, even though Cora's always been slightly on the outskirts of our little crew growing up.
I always felt like she was worried who was truly her friend and who just wanted to be friends with a founding family. It really messed the girl up, in my opinion. Callie made sure to go out of her way to always make Cora feel included in a "there's no catch here" kind of way.
Moving to an empty seat at the bar, I try to stay shrouded by shadows so as not to draw attention to myself. I just want to drink and be on my way back to my bed without the memories weighing on my dreams.
Three drinks of minding my own business, I hear what has to be the saddest pick up line from the direction I know Cora's still sitting in.
"Angel, all that blond hair is so beautiful. I bet it would look so good draped over my lap." I roll my eyes and almost gag.
"I'm not interested."
"Come on baby, I bet you like it rough. I could make that pussy hurt so good."
Fuck, is this douche-nozzel for real? I don’t care how drunk he sounds; he can’t think that shit works.
"I said no," Cora's voice sounds more intense this time. Movement from their direction means she probably had to throw him off her.
So much for keeping things low-key.
Turning around, I lock eyes with Cora and see the distress lodged behind her strong exterior. "I'm pretty sure the lady said no. A few times." My booming voice fills the bar and the people closest to me stop their conversations.
Shifting my eyes to the piece of shit next to Cora and the breath evaporates from my lungs. Standing next to Cora, looking over her as if his filthy come ons are making headway is none other than Mason Aldridge, albeit a swaying, very inebriated version of himself.
My eyes widen and my chest constricts at the anger I'm trying to tamper down. What the fuck? Am I in the damn twilight zone?
"I think you should mind your own business, Davis." He places his hand on Cora's shoulder. "Besides aren't you a little far from home?"
This asshole doesn't deserve to be acknowledged. He's a cheating mother fucker, waste of space—if only Callie could see that.
Pulling out my wallet, I drop a wad of cash to the bar next to my drink. More than enough for my three and whatever Cora's tab is.
Finally turning back to the girl, I hold out my hand. "Come on, Cora. I'll walk you out."
Cora looks like she just escaped the clutches of death. Placing her hand in mine, she shrugs off Mason's hand and follows me through the bar until we're outside.
We still next to a sleek, sporty blue convertible. "Thank you for that," she says nudging her head toward the bar.
"Does he do that often?"
Cora looks down like she doesn't want to admit the things she's seen. "This was the first time he's hit on me, but most nights instead of going home he's here in Fairhope or Mobile. I've seen him around; I just don't know how to tell her. I don’t want to hurt her. Plus, just because he’s been in a bar before doesn’t mean anything. Not to mention he was beyond drunk just now. Maybe this was a fluke. Maybe he was so messed up I looked like Callie.” Cora’s sweet, but there’s no drink in the world that would make Cora a substitute for Callie. Granted I’m looking at things with love goggles on.
"She's told me they're waiting until the wedding night, so he's not getting any at home and I think in his head that makes what he's doing okay. Plus, he still has that ‘my daddy’s rich, I rule the world’ attitude that makes him reckless. He may have been drunk, but I doubt he thinks he’ll ever get caught no matter how obvious it is. It's not okay and I feel guilty every time I see Callie, but what am I supposed to say? 'Oh hey, great seeing you. You know that fiancé you love and can't wait to marry, well, he's more than likely cheating on you. I have no proof, but just thought you’d want to know. Have a great honeymoon, though.'" Cora drops her head to her hands with the stress that's clearly eating at her.
Placing a friendly hand on her shoulder I tell her the truth. “You can't tell Callie."
"Not the advice I thought you'd be giving me."
"You and I both know Callie well enough to know, she's stubborn. She’s going to need to see this. It's not something we can say and she'll just be like 'ya know, I've always wondered why he's never around.' She always gives the benefit of the doubt and Mason is a smooth talker." I chuckle, thinking about his horrible come ons in the bar. "Well at least he used to be."
"So, what do we do? Callie can't marry that."
"She won't. Trust me, we'll work something out. Just stay clear of Mason until we can come up with a plan that would leave not a shadow of a doubt in Callie's mind."
"Beau, I don't want to hurt her," Cora says as a line of tears slide down her cheek.
"I'm not sure there's any way out of that. Both men she planned a future with turned out to be the wrong ones." the self-loathing in my voice is impossible to hide.
"I'm not so sure both were." She places a hand on my shoulder and wraps me in for a quick hug. When she pulls away, she looks me deep in the eyes and says, "Mason was just a poor man's replacement for you. She may not see it that way, but in her heart, she's never moved past you. I'm going to call Millie on my way home, together we’ll figure out a way to right this."
"Cora, I'm not telling Callie her fiancé is cheating on her just to get her back."
"I know. And that's why you're the man she deserves. The one she's deserved since she was fifteen."
Her words break me, but I refuse to crumble in this parking lot. Cora may be sweet but she's wrong. As I watch her climb into her car and driveway, the only thoughts going through my mind aren't how to get Callie back, but how devastated she's going to be again. It'll partially be at my hand. I'm one of the ones that's going to orchestrate the downfall of her engagement—she's going to hate me. And I'm okay with that because this is the right thing to do.