Summary: Courtney's suffering with her breakup with Jason and turns to the least likely person.
Chapter One: … Pain Tastes Good With Whiskey.
Courtney Mathews threw back another shot of whiskey and brought the empty glass down to the bar with a loud slap. She signaled and Coleman poured her another, her sixth one that night.
"I think this may be your last one, Daisy," Coleman commented as he saw her sway slightly.
"Don't call me that," she said, her voice slurred. She tossed back the whiskey and was satisfied by fire it caused in her throat and chest as the liquid slid down her smoothly down her throat.
"How about I call you a cab, darlin'?" he said.
"No, what you can do for me is give me another shot of whiskey," she shot back at him. She wanted-no she needed another whiskey. The pain was almost gone. Just a few more and there'll be no pain at all.
"One more shot, and then I'm cutting you off."
"Fine. I'll go somewhere else."
Coleman wearily filled her glass again. He kept an eye on the three men who had been playing pool until Courtney came in and their eyes were glued to her. Her jeans hung low and seductive on her hips and the tank top she wore had three buttons on the top…and all three were unbuttoned, showing off what had made him a pretty penny during her Daisy era.
Past aside, he cared for the girl and he wasn't about to let some drunk slobs drool all over her…well, not again anyway.
"Come on, Coleman. Another one," she shouted loudly across the bar. She was seriously getting tanked and Coleman was certain that a few more drinks and she was succeed in falling out of the stool instead of just teetering.
"No," he said firmly. "I'm calling someone to come pick you up."
"No way," she made a grab for the bottle in his hand and the movement nearly sent her to the floor.
Lorenzo Alcazar caught her before she hit the floor. He pulled her up, all the while she was struggling, "I got it, I got it, I got it," she slurred but her equilibrium was telling Lorenzo a different story so he fought her onto the stool, and then had to hold her by the shoulders before she slide off again.
"Mr. Coleman, could you please phone Mr. Morgan and—."
"No! No, please don't Coleman," she tried to get up but Lorenzo had to steady her and it was easy to push her back on the stool. "Please don't call Jason," tears began to stream down her face as she lowered her head. "He probably won't even come anyway."
Lorenzo watched as her shoulders shook with silent sobs. His heart tugged and he found himself reaching out to her. "Come on, then. I'll take you home," he bent to help her to her feet.
"I don't want to go home. Too much pain, too much memories..."
"Okay," he said his voice soothing as he slid an arm around her waist to hold her up. He hadn't realized what an amazing body she had until he was pressed to his side like this.
Since she seemed to lean more against him, then not, going on impulse, Lorenzo bent and scooped her easily into his arms.
She surprised him by mumbling something unintelligently, curled into him and fell fast asleep. What surprised him even more was his response to it. He had the urge to tighten his arms around her and stroke her hair until she was herself again.
When he stepped outside it was pouring and they were both soaked as he hurried across the parking lot to his car. He quickly opened the door and laid her gently into the passenger seat and pulled back. He stared at her sleeping face for a moment. They had never gotten along, she had always hated him. As he brushed her tangled, wet hair from her face, he realized suddenly how hurt he was that she never trusted him.
He didn't blame her, he thought as he got into the driver's seat. She blamed him for her unborn child's death.
Where does he take her? She doesn't want to go home and she doesn't want Morgan or her brother involved. Making a decision, he started the car and pulled out of the parking lot.