Page 41 of Inked Heart
Chapter Eleven
Watching Him Hurt Her
Damien
There are things a man can tolerate.And then there are things he absolutely cannot.Unfortunately for me, Quinn Thomas dating Emette Black sits right on the line between those two categories.
I tell myself it’s not my business.I repeat that sentence like a mantra at least twelve times a day.Not my relationship.Not my place.Not my problem.And yet somehow I keep ending up in situations where I have to watch that guy chip away at her confidence like it’s his personal hobby.
And today is no exception.
I sit at one of the tables outside The Hideaway with a beer in my hand while the late afternoon sun slowly drops toward the trees across the street.Franklinton isn’t exactly known for its nightlife, but The Hideaway is one of the few places where people gather after work.
Adam owns the place.Which means the entire Grey family treats it like an extension of the living room.Across the table, Laine leans back in his chair while Alistair demolishes a plate of fries like it personally offended him.
“You’re staring again,” Laine says casually.
I blink.“What?”
“Across the street.”
I follow his gaze and there she is.Quinn.She’s walking toward the bar with Emette beside her.Her blonde hair moves in the breeze and she’s wearing a soft blue sundress that makes her look like she stepped out of a summer catalog.
She looks beautiful.Happy even.Which makes the tension in my chest slightly confusing.Because I should want her to be happy even if that happiness involves someone else.
Emette opens the door for her, and I mentally award him points for basic manners as they step inside.
“Well,” Alistair says, finally looking up from his fries.“This should be interesting.”
I glance at him.“Why?”
“Because half the town is in there tonight.”
“Okay.”I’m not really catching his drift.
“And people have opinions about Emette Black.”
“That’s not news.”
“Still,” Alistair says and gestures toward the bar door.“Let’s see how this plays out.”
I sigh internally.The last thing I want is drama.Unfortunately, drama seems to follow Emette Black like a loyal dog.
Five minutes later we’re inside The Hideaway.The bar smells like grilled burgers, spilled beer, and the faint hint of whiskey that seems permanently embedded in the wood paneling.Music plays from the jukebox while people talk and laugh at scattered tables.
And right near the center of the room, Quinn sits with Emette at one of the booths.I immediately notice two things.First, she’s smiling politely.Not the smile she has when she is happy or when no one is watching.Second, he’s not paying attention to her.He’s leaning halfway across the table talking to another guy about football like she’s not even there.
My jaw tightens and Laine notices.
“Relax,” he murmurs.
