“Good God, girl, it is so good to see you.” He squeezed me until I let out a little squeal like a squeak toy. “So damn good.”

“I think she can tell,” Hot Bartender Dude said dryly. “Because you’re suffocating her by squeezing her to death.”

“Shut your trap, boy.” Clyde lowered me to my feet, but kept one arm around my shoulders. His height and width dwarfed me, always had. “You do realize who this is, Jax?”

“I’m going to go with a yes,” came another dry, low response, laced with an edge of humor.

“Wait.” I wiggled to the side, turning to Hot Bartender Dude. “Your name is Jax?”

“Jackson James is actually my name, but everyone calls me Jax.”

I mentally repeated his name. Admittedly, Jax was one sexy as hell nickname and made me think of a certain fictional biker babe. “You sound like you belong in a boy band.”

A low laugh rumbled out from under his breath. “I guess I missed my calling then.”

“Hell.” Clyde’s arm tightened on my shoulder. “Jax can actually sing, even strum a few chords on the guitar, if you get enough whiskey in him.”

“Really?” My interest was piqued, mainly because there was nothing hotter than a guy with a guitar.

Jax leaned against the sink behind the bar, folding his arms across his chest. “I’ve been known to play a time or two.”

“So, what brings you back here, baby girl?” Clyde asked, and there was no missing the heavy meaning in his words. As in, what in the hell are you doing back in this dump?

I turned toward him slowly. When I’d left for college, Clyde had been sad to see me go, but he’d been the driving force behind getting me out of this town and away from . . . well, everything. He probably would’ve been happier if I’d picked a school clear across the country, but I’d chosen one that was still sort of close by just in case . . . just in case something like this happened.

“I’m looking for Mom.” And that was all I said. Right now, I didn’t want to get into what was going on in front of Jax. The fact that he was now looking at me like he was truly seeing me as more than just some chick who had roamed into the bar was bad enough.

Some people believed the apple never fell too far from the tree.

And sometimes I wondered that myself.

I didn’t miss the way Clyde tensed, or how his gaze darted to Jax quickly, and then back to me. Unease cut deeper, then twisted and spread like a weed across a flower bed.

Focusing fully on Clyde, I prepared myself for whatever was about to come winging my way. “What?”

His big smile lessened and turned nervous as he dropped his arm. “Nothing, baby girl, it’s just that . . .”

I took a deep breath and waited as Jax grabbed another beer from the cooler of ice, handing it over to an older man in a red, torn flannel who didn’t even get a chance to ask for what he wanted, but shuffled off with a happy, if slightly drunk, smile.