Without You
A Friends to Lovers Small Town Romance
Jennifer Van Wyk
Without You
Copyright © 2020 Jennifer Van Wyk
ISBN-10: 9798555255242
ISBN-13:
Cover Designer: Oh So Novel
Cover Photography: Stock photography
Editing and proofreading services by: Julie Deaton and Kaitie Reister
Copyright © Jennifer Van Wyk 2020
This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters, and event are fictitious in every regard. Any similarities to actual events and persons, living or dead, are purely coincidental. Any trademarks, service marks, product names, or named features are assumed to be the property of their respective owners, and are used only for reference. There is no implied endorsement if any of these terms are used. Except for review purposes, the reproduction of this book in whole or part, electronically or mechanically, constitutes a copyright violation. Please be respectful of the author’s work.
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For my parents.
I love you.
You are the best parents a girl could ask for. Thank you for supporting me, offering to help me even when I’m too stubborn to accept it, reading all my words even when you can’t look me in the eye after, and being you. It deserves to be said again. I love you.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
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Chapter One
Brody
“Don’t do it, man,” my friend Chad warns. It’s a warning that I’ll ignore completely because right now, I’m brilliant. There’s nothing that could change my mind.
Johnny, the polar opposite of Chad who makes up our trio of friends, winces. “I agree. Not a good idea.”
Even though Johnny saying it’s a bad idea should give me a little bit of a warning, or at the very least make me take a second thought about my actions, I don’t pay either of them any mind. They’re wrong. And even if they’re actually right — which I can admit is entirely possible — it’s not going to make me change my mind. Instead, I drain the last of my beer and crush the can, tossing it into the back of the bed of my truck. Shaking my head, I pop open another. Because that’s another one of my brilliant ideas. “I think it’s a great fucking idea.”
Chad’s still shaking his head, eyeing me warily. “That’s the beer talkin’. I’m telling you… it’s the exact opposite of a great fucking idea. It’s not just bad, it’s the worst idea you’ve ever had.”
I offer him my grin that usually gets me out of about anything. Though, considering he has a penis and doesn’t look at me the same way women do, I’m not sure that my smile or good looks have any sort of effect on him. “See, that’s where you’re wrong. Again. The worst idea I’ve had happened a few years ago when I made her mine.”
“Okay, I’ll give you that one but seriously, think about this a minute.”
“I have. You won’t change my mind. And just to say, I’m a little offended that you didn’t make it clear that I righted that bad idea when I happily no longer called her mine.”
“Thought that went without saying,” Johnny says.
“Then let’s get this show on the road, y’all. I’m ready to see the fear in his eyes.”
My friends groan and Chad side-eyes me then turns to Johnny. “Do you feel like we’re in the middle of a Garth Brooks song, too?”
Johnny nods. “Oh, yeah. But,” he slams the last of his beer, crushing the can just like I did moments ago, “fuck it. I’m down. Let’s do this shit.”
“We’re goin’ to jail, aren’t we?” Chad groans.
I grin. “Maybe.”
Chad, the sensible one of the three of us, groans again. “I need another first.”
“That’s the spirit!” I reach into the cooler and hand him another beer and one to Johnny. Ice bites into my skin and I wince then slide it into my koozie. We’re working on case number two so it’s not as if it takes us long to finish them off, but holding a can that’s wet from being in an icy cooler is annoying as all hell.
Johnny belches, wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, and readjusts his dirty old ball cap. “Ready?”
In a moment of rare nervousness, I hesitate. But only for a second. I’ve never been the type of guy to second-guess my actions. Blame it on my dad, I suppose, for raising me to be sure of myself and know who I am. Unapologetically. Some may call me cocky. I call it self-confidence. There’s a big difference. If I was just simply cocky, it wouldn’t be warranted. But what I’m about to do is way outside the realm of the norm, even for me.
“I’m ready.”
Chad still doesn’t look sure and maybe he’s right. But I’m committed now.
The three of us walk through the crowded parking lot and my friends stand back a bit while I open the heavy metal door. Then we’re inside. And like we’ve just walked into a movie, I swear every pair of eyes turn to us, the music stops on a screech, and a baby cries. Whispers of “why is he here?” and “oh shit” can be heard like a wave over the tables and chairs.
I don’t care, though.
I have my target in sight and one thing on my mind.
Her.
And next to her, he looks shell-shocked, a little worried, and a lot ticked off. But he also looks like he’s a pansy who can’t stand up for himself so I, on the other hand, am not worried. Not one bit. Because I can hold my own.
Again…
I don’t care.
It’s not cocky, it’s having self-confidence and knowing who I am. I might not drive a foreign luxury car like he does, but that doesn’t make me less of a man. Besides, what did she think? I was born and raised in this small town tucked into the Smoky Mountains and have no desire or intentions of moving away. She did but yet wanted to hold her wedding here. Probably to show everyone that she’d moved on. When we broke up, I earned the right to claim the town as my own. If she didn’t want me anywhere near her wedding, she should have chosen a different location. At least, that’s what my alcohol-laden brain is telling me at the moment.
“I really wish the DJ would play that song right now,” Johnny murmurs behind me, making Chad chuckle.
He’s not wrong. If “Friends in Low Places” kicked on right about now, it would be nothing short of perfection.
Hannah stands from her chair, her veil trailing down her back and over her shoulders. I always knew she’d make a beautiful bride and I wasn’t wrong. I’m man enough to admit that. However, it doesn’t deter me from my plan.
My brilliant fucking plan.
Hannah’s husband reaches up and grabs her hand, shaking his head. She looks from him to me before she sits back down.
Damn, I wish I had had one more beer. Some extra liquid courage never hurt anyone. Well,
that’s not exactly a true statement.
Johnny, Chad, and I take a step forward. Somewhere in the crowded reception hall I hear a gasp then a glass must tip over because commotion is happening in the corner when a woman jumps from her chair and people start dabbing up liquid with their napkins.
Four more steps, around a table of late twenty-somethings who seem to be relishing in whatever is about to go down. Must be his friends because I don’t recognize them as any of Hannah’s, but they do look entertained. In fact, a few of them are snickering and settling into their chairs like they’re ready for a show.
I make brief eye contact with one of Hannah’s bridesmaid, Katie, who has her lips pressed together and is clearly trying to stop herself from laughing. It’s definitely not working, though. She’s seconds away from losing it if the shake in her shoulders is anything to go by.
Interesting.
Maybe Katie is Team Brody after all.
I just assumed that after our breakup, all her friends would be on her side. Now, though, I’m not so sure.
To test my theory, I shoot her a wink which makes her eyes widen and a little giggle to escape that she quickly covers up with her hand covering her mouth. Or tries to, anyway. Oh, yeah. She’s on my side. All the more reason to go through with my plan. I always liked her the best of all of Hannah’s friends. She’s funny and confident in herself. We always got along really well, and I honestly always wondered how Katie and Hannah had remained friends for so long. They have very little in common and didn’t meet until Katie moved here her junior year. Hannah and I weren’t dating in high school but they became friends quickly.
I make my way through the rest of the tables and plant my feet in front of the head table. I watch as Hannah stares at me with curiosity, taking a sip of champagne and setting her glass back down pretending to be cool and collected, but I know her. She’s anything but. In fact, she’s probably shaking with nerves right now.
Behind me, Johnny says, “’Sup, Hannah?”
I can picture him giving her a single chin nod to drive home his point of not giving a shit whether this is appropriate or not. Chad clears his throat and says simply, “Hannah.”
“Boys.”
Next to her, her pussy of a now-husband finally speaks up. “What are y’all doing here, Brody?”
Really? That’s all he has to ask? Nothing like ‘Get the fuck out of here.’? If it were me sitting there, not with Hannah, of course, because I could give a shit less about that past, but if it were someone else, someone like… my eyes trail to my left and I make contact with her. I shake my head to clear that particular thought from my mind.
Not the time, Brody.
Not.
The.
Time.
Anyway, if it were me getting married and some punk ex-boyfriend showed up obviously drunk off his ass with his friends in tow at our wedding? I’d usher his ass out, none too gently, I might add.
I turn around and look to Johnny who crosses his arms then stumbles a bit because we’re fucking trashed but quickly recovers and rights himself, nodding to let me know he’s good. I do my best not to laugh at him, because it’s a miracle I’m standing on two feet and not slurring.
Then I catch the eyes of Hannah’s parents. They always loved me; were heartbroken when we broke up, actually. Her daddy came to my house and begged me to give her another chance. But, she had made it clear I wasn’t good enough and there was no way I was letting her sink her claws back into me. Life is way too short to spend it with someone who thinks my tax bracket means more about me than who I am as a person. I’m a working-class man and proud of it. Blue-collar man to my very core and wouldn’t have it any other way. Being a mechanic is honorable work and anyone who thinks I’m beneath them simply because I don’t spend my time sitting at a desk or behind a computer screen can fuck right off.
Giving her parents a little wave, they return the gesture with a smile. I’m a little surprised that they aren’t going to stop me from being here. It’s their daughter’s wedding day, after all. However, maybe they just really don’t like her husband, Cameron. He’s the exact opposite of me and one of those who thinks someone like me is beneath him because I’m a grease monkey who has calloused, dirty hands. Hannah’s daddy may have spent his working life in an office doing something with investments for people, but he never once looked at me as though I wasn’t on the same level as him. He always seemed genuinely interested in my career and appreciated the work I do. In fact, he would often ask me if he could help or if I could teach him things like how to change the oil in his vehicles.
I turn back around and face the happy couple, spreading my arms out beside me, grinning widely.
“My invitation got lost in the mail. Thought I’d congratulate y’all.”
Someone coughs a laugh and murmurs happen all around us. Johnny and Chad chuckle.
“Congratulate us?” Hannah asks, skeptically. As she should. I didn’t exactly handle the news that she slept with her co-worker all that well. Cameron is a douchebag with a capital D and I always hated him. Hannah knew it, too. When she slept with him, it was worse than just cheating. It was stabbing me in the back over and over again. A thousand lashes. If she wanted me to end it, fucking Cameron was definitely the way to make me walk away.
“Right.”
“’Gratulations, Han Han!” Johnny shouts, using his nickname for her that she absolutely hates. “Super happy for you!”
“Uh huh. Thanks, John.”
“It’s Johnny!” Unlike Hannah who let the nickname slide, Johnny corrects her. More than likely just to be a shit.
“Whatever!” she snaps. “Just… leave,” she whispers, lowering her head. I’m sure she’s determined not to make a scene but that’s not really my style and she knows it. That’s why she keeps eyeing her guests, hoping that they aren’t paying attention. Too bad for her, they are. Why wouldn’t they be? This is their entertainment.
Reaching a hand behind me, I feel the object Johnny swiped on his way over here land in the palm of my hand and I bring it around, smirking at Hannah’s now horrified expression.
I lift the microphone to my mouth, tap it once to make sure it’s on, and spin around.
“Evening, everyone! I see a lot of familiar faces out there. Some new to me. I assume you’re on Cameron’s side, though, so I won’t ask for introductions. The rest of you, hope you’re doing well. Missed some of y’all.” I put my hand over my eyes even though there’s no sun or anything blocking me from seeing the person I’m looking for. “Uncle Zeb, where are ya?”
“Here, boy!” Uncle Zeb shouts. I look in the corner and there he sits, arm in the air waving away. “Come see me after you’re done here!” he yells as he stands up, points at me then, hands cupping his mouth, he shouts again, “Damn, it’s good to see you!” His wife is sitting next to him, shaking her head but laughing. Like I said, Hannah’s family loved me. Zeb is Hannah’s dad’s brother and the two together were fun as shit. How Hannah got such a princess complex is beyond my understanding. Her family might have had a lot of wealth, but they never acted like it. They don’t live in a fancy, expensive house. They drove cars until the wheels basically fell off.
“Will do,” I respond, pointing at him. I might not miss Hannah but damn, her family was fun. They really knew how to let loose on the weekends, but it wasn’t just about that. We would spend hours around a campfire cracking up over their antics as kids.
Johnny and Chad both chuckle and I flash a smile at Katie when I turn back around. She tips her bottle of beer in my direction and I tip my imaginary hat back to her. She returns a bright smile, her lips coated in deep red and her blonde hair pulled up into something fancy. She looks gorgeous. I always thought she was pretty. Beautiful, even. But now that the blinders are gone, I can’t understand for a second how I could have missed just how pretty she is.
“Can we please get on with this? You’re kind of interrupting my wedding reception, in case you hadn’t noticed, you as…t
ronaut,” she says, catching herself before cursing in front of her wedding guests.
“What’s wrong? You can’t just say the word asshole in front of all these people? Don’t think they cuss themselves? Forget to wear the mask for a good long second, did ya?” I tease, though it’s the truth. She might have left me because she thought she was too good for me, but I don’t forget for one second where it is she came from. May be why I got along so well with her family. Her daddy was a white-collar guy but didn’t act like it. Damn, that sounded judgmental even in my own head but I don’t know how else to explain it.
“Just get on with it. If you’re here to try to win me back, it’s obviously too late.” She places a hand on Cameron’s shoulder and then kisses him, keeping her eyes on me. I don’t miss her smirk as if kissing her husband in front of me will hurt me in some way.
I raise my eyebrows and hear Johnny whisper, “gross,” behind me. I chuckle at his truth. I might be here to be a shithead and interrupt their wedding reception, but it’s not because I want her in my life. I just couldn’t help myself. Like I said, she totally stabbed me in the back when she went after Cameron. She knew how I felt about him. My gut feeling? The marriage won’t last more than a few years and he’ll have cheated on her. It’s just the type of guy he is.
“Anyway, I came here because I wanted to congratulate the happy couple! What’s wrong with that?”
“What’s wrong with it is that I know you’re still butt hurt over the fact that I married someone else and you had to come here to try to get me back! It’s too late, in case you weren’t positive.”
Without You: A Friends-to-Lovers Small Town Romance Page 1
