Butch didn’t argue. His bar wasn’t the place people like Morgan—or, hell, even people like myself—hung out. It was in an older area of Austin, not a bad area, just not a place where people our age hung out. The patrons here were mostly vets who served with each other or had heard about the bar from other friends.
“Why would she do that to herself?” I asked, feeling a bit guilty I hadn’t known about the silent suffering she was putting herself through.
Butch scoffed. “She’s doing the same thing you’re doing: trying to drown out the pain.”
I swallowed hard again then looked from Morgan to Butch. “You don’t know how to sugarcoat things, do you, Butch?”
“No. I do not.”
My eyes landed back on Morgan. She was two sheets to the wind, and my heart ached for her. Morgan came here to feel closer to Mike. That had to be hard on Butch as well. He’d already had to deal with his son taking his own life six years ago. Mike had PTSD and had recently gotten out of the army. Now it all made sense. I knew Morgan had dated a guy named Mike who had been in the army. I knew he killed himself, and I knew that was what had driven her to go into counseling. But I couldn’t believe that her Mike was Butch’s Mike.
I rubbed the back of my neck. Jesus, Greene. Way to be so fucking self-absorbed.
“How did she get here?”
“Luber.”
Jerking my head back to look at Butch, I asked, “Huh?”
“Wuber?”
“Uber?” I asked with a slight chuckle.
“Whatever it’s called. She always has them drop her off, then I make sure she gets home, whether I drive her or Lucy does.”
Lucy was Butch’s daughter. She worked behind the scenes of the bar, managing everything. By Butch’s own admission, this place wouldn’t have been able to stay afloat had it not been for her business sense.
The guy who had been trying to talk to Morgan walked back up to her, and Butch looked like he was about to lose his shit.
I held up my hand to stop him. “Let me take care of it, Butch.”
He reached across the bar and grabbed my forearm. “She’s important to me, Blake.”
The look in his eyes made me pause for a moment. It felt like he had looked deep into my soul and could see the secret feelings I had harbored for Morgan. I laughed at his comment, attempting to play it off. “You don’t scare me. Her brother on the other hand—he scares me. He’d probably have me killed and dumped into a foundation so he could have a skyscraper built over me.”
Butch grinned. “He probably would.”
Making my way over to Morgan, I nearly sent Nash a text, then stopped. This might not be something Morgan wanted her brother to know about. I could respect that. I shoved the phone back into my pocket.
“Hey, fancy meeting you here,” I said, sitting on the stool next to her and giving the guy who was trying to talk to her a dirty look. He took the hint and quickly walked away.
Swinging her body around, Morgan stared at me for the longest time. Something in those sky-blue eyes made my breath hitch for the slightest moment. I wasn’t sure if it was because I saw the same lost look in her eyes that I saw in mine every morning, or if it was because she was looking at me like she never had before.
“Blake?”
Her voice was low and very drawn out. She was drunk. Very drunk.
“How’s it going, Morgan?”
She smiled, and I couldn’t help smile back at her.
“How’d you me know here?”
I leaned in closer. “What?”
Morgan giggled and then lifted her glass. “Butch! Another one, and two for my good-looking friend here.”
My brows lifted, and I glanced over to Butch. I was hoping he would say no. He looked at me with the strangest expression before turning back to Morgan.