by Cat Johnson
Lovely.
She sighed. “You mean Brian?”
Tattered towel in hand as he wiped the bar, Ray nodded. “Yup. That’s him.”
“Yes, I was the one in here with Heartbreaker.” She turned to shoot her friend an I told you so glance.
“He texted me about you,” Ray said casually.
“He did?” That was a surprise.
“Yeah. He’s . . . out of town, but he said if you came in while he was gone I was to buy you a CBC Wit and hot wings or anything else you wanted and put it on his tab. You ready for it now?” Ray asked.
“I guess. Thanks.” She dared to look at Shelly after Ray spun to get their order.
Shelly wore a distinct I told you so expression of her own as she said, “He texted the bartender at your favorite bar and asked him to send you your favorite beer and food.”
“And his nickname is Heartbreaker,” Alicia added.
“Maybe it’s ironic,” Shelly suggested.
“Or maybe he’s a player,” she pointed out.
Shelly lifted one shoulder. “You’ll never know if you don’t give him a chance.”
“I’ll just have to live with not knowing, thank you.”
She said it, but as Ray set the beer in front of her, the question remained, could she do it?
TWENTY-FOUR
Coming home felt . . . different.
He knew the reason for that. Alicia.
The proof was in the fact that the wheels had barely touched down on the tarmac and he had his cell out and powered on, just to check for a message from her.
There was none. Which didn’t help his mood.
Neither did the fact that there was a voicemail from his mother.
As he listened to her excited retelling of how Dale had proposed to her on the beach in Hawaii, he realized he could have done without the message. He’d have been better off if his mom had ghosted him as completely as Alicia had.
So there he sat at McP’s Pub on his regular barstool drinking his usual beer in their established homecoming ritual, and not enjoying a moment of it. Because every time he checked his cell phone, there still wasn’t a message from Alicia on there.
And now he was torn. Did he send her one even though he’d made last contact and she’d never responded?
A sudden thought hit him. Was this how women felt when he didn’t return their texts?
He was hit with a wave of guilt over every time he’d ghosted a girl, because this—this waiting in limbo—fucking sucked.
Maybe he did deserve the nickname Heartbreaker after all.
“What are you pouting about?” Liam asked.
“I’m not pouting.” He scowled at being caught in what might possibly be construed as a pout.
“Gotta agree with Lucky, Heartbreaker. That there looks like a definite pout.” Ray’s agreement only had him scowling deeper.
It was a sad day when a man couldn’t count on his bartender to be on his side.
“Whatever,” he mumbled.
“What’s wrong, buddy? Your girl giving you grief?” Liam asked.
It would be nice if he could bitch to his teammates about his real problems with his fake girlfriend, but, real or not, he couldn’t admit to them she was ghosting him. Or that there was a good chance he would never see her again. Or how very much that idea bothered him.
Instead, he shook his head and revealed another truth—one he didn’t mind sharing. “My mother got engaged while we were gone.”
Liam’s eyes brightened. “Really? That’s great.”
He drew back. “No, it’s not.”
“Why? What’s the problem?” Liam asked.
“I barely know him. Hell, she barely knows him. I only met the guy once but I’m not sure if I trust him.”
“Want me to take him out for you?” Liam smirked as, in a gangster voice, he jokingly offered to kill Brian’s mother’s new fiancé.
“No, smart ass. I don’t.”
“Then I guess you’re going to have to let your mother live her own life. She’s an adult. It’s her decision.”
His head came up as Liam echoed Alicia’s words almost exactly. Two people. One opinion. And both of them disagreed with him.
Was he not seeing the situation clearly because he was too close to it? Could he be wrong about Dale and his mother? That thought was yet another thing to put him in a cranky mood.
“Anyway, I’m outta here.” Liam plunked his glass down next to his money and squeezed Brian’s shoulder. “Go visit your girl. I’m sure she can cheer you up. Make you forget you’re getting a new daddy.”
New daddy. Fuck.
He grunted an obscenity-laden response as Liam headed out the door, leaving him alone with his beer and Ray the traitor, who walked over now and slid a piece of paper in front of him.
“What’s that?” he asked.
“Your bill from your girlfriend’s beer and wings.”
His brows flew high. “She was here?”
“Of course, she was here. You think I’m making it up?” Ray grumbled.
“No.” He couldn’t help his smile. Alicia had been here and she’d let him buy her a beer and wings. That had to be a good sign. “Did she say anything? Or did she leave me a message or a note or something?”
Ray looked at him like he was nuts. “No.”
He could see the bartender was too busy tonight, and too cranky on a regular basis, to annoy further. He let it go. “Okay. Thanks.”
Surprisingly, Ray stayed a moment longer. He tipped his chin toward a back table and said, “That’s her friend. They were in here together that night. Talk to her. I don’t know shit but she might.”
He spun and saw a pretty blonde. The only woman with a group of three men who he’d bet were team guys, from the looks of them.
The last thing he wanted to do was walk up to that table and ask the blonde if she had a message for him, like he was in middle school hoping the girl he liked had given her bestie a note to pass.
But the only other alternative was to keep calling and texting Alicia and hope she didn’t keep ignoring him. Or stop by her house uninvited and look like a real loser.
Maybe her friend had some insight about what was going on with her.
It felt oddly like he was walking up to the cool kids’ table in the cafeteria as he crossed the room. But fuck that. He was a cool kid too. He was a damn SEAL. And he needed to talk to that woman.
Confidence restored, he stopped next to the table and said, “Hi. Ray says you’re Alicia’s friend.”
Her brows rose high. “I am. I’m Shelly. And you are?”
“Brian.”
Her eyes flew wide. “Oh my God. Brian. Alicia’s Navy man.”
At least she’d heard of him. That had to be good.
His gaze swept the group of men who watched the interaction with moderate interest. “Any chance I could talk to you for a second?”
“Sure.” She glanced at her watch. “I have about five minutes then I’m going to have to get to work.”
“That’s fine. Thanks.” Five minutes would have to do.
She stood and turned back to the men. “Do not leave this table. I’m going to need you all in the courtyard when she arrives.”
The oldest man there lifted a brow. “What if I have to take a piss?”
“Hold it.” She pinned him with a glare as the other two chuckled.
“Thought I was done taking orders when I retired,” he mumbled.
“Sorry to tell you this, Clay, but you gave up your freedom when you signed that contract with Joanne,” the youngest one said.
“True that.” The third man nodded.
Brian didn’t know what they were talking about but he was once again on the clock, having to prove himself in a set amount of time.
He walked to the quiet end of the bar and turned back to Shelly. “I was wondering if you’d heard from Alicia lately.”
She nodded. “I talked to her today.”
Shit. So her phone was working. And s
he wasn’t so busy she couldn’t take time for a call. So it was just him she was avoiding.
“I thought you were away,” Shelly said before he could think of the next question for her.
“I was. We just got back today.” A thought struck him. “Is that why she didn’t call me back? Because she knew I was away?”
Jesus. Just listening to himself whine like a baby about her not calling was making him sick. He used to be a tough guy. What had this woman done to him?
He glanced up to find sympathy in Shelly’s expression. “Brian, it’s not you. It’s her.”
He laughed at the ridiculousness of that. Even her friend was trying to let him down easy. “This thing between me and her is that hopeless?”
“Not at all. I’ve been pulling for you. But she’s carrying a lot of baggage that has nothing to do with you. Unfortunately, you’re getting hit with the fallout from her last serious relationship. It . . . didn’t end well.”
“She never mentioned anything about that to me.”
“Not a surprise. Look. It’s not my place to tell you her secrets. But Alicia’s very good at avoiding things. Believe me. I have first-hand experience with her in that department. So I’m just going to tell you this. Don’t give up on her. Break down those walls she’s built. Now, I’m so sorry, but I have to go.”
He hadn’t gotten as much as he’d hoped but still more than he’d expected out of her friend. “Sure. Thank you for talking to me.”
“My pleasure. I hope to see you around a lot more soon.”
So did he.
“And here.” She pulled a business card out of her jacket pocket. “If you need help with her, call me.”
He took the tiny white card. “Thanks.”
As she trotted out the backdoor toward the courtyard, Brian pocketed the card and turned toward the bar.
He had to settle his bill with Ray and decide on his next course of action with Alicia. Although, that might require another beer.
One more, then he’d go.
Plan in place, he had just settled himself back on his barstool when the three men from the table walked over.
“Hey, Ray. Can we get three more please before we’re summoned to the courtyard?” the light-haired guy asked.
“You got it,” Ray called back as he poured a beer for the waiting waitress.
“Should I relocate to the courtyard too?” Brian asked. “It seems like the place to be tonight.”
The older guy shook his head. “Save yourself, man. Stay far away from the courtyard.”
He said it with such grave warning, Brian had to laugh, and wonder what the hell was going on back there.
The youngest scoffed. “It won’t be that bad.”
“Says you. You’re safe. We’re not.” The older one indicated himself and the light haired man.
“It’s a surprise fortieth birthday party for our producer,” he explained. “I’m Zach by the way. The grumpy one is Clay and the kid is Nick.”
“Brian Anderson,” he offered up in return.
“Well, Brian, if you know what’s good for you, you’ll steer clear of Joanne Rossi, and anyone from New Millennia Media or you’ll end up doing something you don’t want to do.”
Brian’s brows rose. “Like what?”
Porn? Nah. Probably not.
“Like having cameras stuck up your ass twenty-four seven,” Clay said, which still didn’t rule out the porn theory.
“Or having to use literal trash from a dumpster for your wedding decorations,” Zach added.
Nick rolled his eyes. “You both could have said no to doing those reality shows. I did.”
Ah, reality shows. That made more sense.
“I did,” Clay did an unflattering imitation of what Nick had said. “Easy for you to say, kid. Your woman wasn’t depending on you being part of the damn show.”
“Yeah.” Zach nodded. “That’s why I did it. For Gabby.”
“Hey!” Shelly popped her head in the back door. “I need you guys in the courtyard, pronto. Dani just texted. She said the girls and Joanne are almost here.”
“Here we go.” Clay grabbed the olive-laden martini glass that Ray had just set in front of him.
“At least the drinks are being paid for by the production company,” Nick commented as he grabbed one of the two beer bottles off the bar.
“Thank God for that.” Zach grabbed the other before turning back to Brian. “Good meeting you.”
Nick narrowed his gaze and said, “Actually, you look familiar. You stationed at Coronado?”
Brian nodded. “I am.”
“I thought so. So are we,” Nick indicated himself and Zach. “Old man here was, but he’s retired.”
“Watch it with the old man stuff, kid,” Clay growled.
As confused as he was, Brian still gleaned that these SEALs had somehow managed to juggle the military, relationships and a reality show. He was starting to feel like a slacker, but meeting these guys was proof, it could be done.
In spite of the fact Brian’s entire team was currently single, there were SEALs who made serious relationships—marriages, even—work.
If they could do it, he could too. If he could get Alicia to freaking talk to him.
“Anyway, maybe we’ll see you around,” Nick said.
“And seriously, stay clear of Joanne,” Clay warned as he followed Zach out.
Brian watched them leave and mumbled, mostly to himself, “That was weird.”
Ray glanced up from wiping the condensation off the bar and let out a snort. “You have no idea.”
Brian decided to worry about himself and forget about them.
He pulled his cell out of his pocket and navigated to the messages.
Emboldened by Shelly’s faith, and the new knowledge that it wasn’t him Alicia had a problem with but rather her past, he set his sights on knocking down Alicia’s wall, one text at a time.
TWENTY-FIVE
Alicia stared at the text.
BRIAN: Just letting you know that I’m back.
What to reply to that?
Should she reply at all?
She wanted to. But she shouldn’t. It wasn’t right to open up communications with the man when she was trying to shut them down.
“Why are you staring at your phone frowning? What’s going on?”
Shit. Jen had snuck up on her.
Time for a lie. “Nothing’s going on. Everything’s fine. Just reading a text from . . . Shelly. She’s at McP’s.”
“And you didn’t want to go with her?” Jen asked.
It was a valid question since she was currently walking up and down the aisles of the home store choosing tile for her sister’s new DIY project.
“She’s at a work thing,” she told her, which was actually true.
“At McP’s?” Jen asked.
“Mmm-hmm. The San Diego office is throwing one of the executive producers a surprise birthday party. Some of the cast from the shows should be there.” Also true. Alicia was getting very adept at this deception thing.
This conversation was starting to feel like that game, two truths and a lie.
Jen’s eyes widened. “Will Gabrielle Lee and her hot SEAL hubby Zach from Trash to Treasure be there?”
Alicia let out a laugh at her sister fangirling over reality television stars—if you could actually call them stars. “I don’t know. You’ll have to ask Shelly.”
After a pout, Jen must have gotten over her disappointment of Alicia not having a copy of the guestlist and got a dreamy look in her eyes. “It’s so cool Shelly works for the company that produces one of my favorite shows.”
“So cool,” Alicia mimicked, before rolling her eyes.
It was that show, Trash to Treasure, that was the reason they were currently here choosing tile. So Jen could redo the top of an old cocktail table she found along the curb.
Some garbage should stay garbage in Alicia’s opinion. By the time her sister bought the paint for the legs and the tile, adh
esive and grout to redo the top, she could have bought a brand new table. But who was she to deny her sister her trash picking fun?
“So, how are things going with Brian?” Jen asked, making Alicia long for the conversation where they’d been talking about reality TV. Couldn’t they go back to that?
“He’s fine. I told you. He’s deployed. So, you know, I can’t see him.”
“That’s where you’re wrong. There are plenty of ways to see him. And do other things too. Webcams are a wonderful thing.” Jen waggled her eyebrows suggestively.
“Eww, jeez, Jen. No. I’m not talking about video sex with you at all. And definitely not in the Home Depot.” Alicia glanced down the aisle, hoping no one had heard.
Jen scoffed. “You’re always so worried about what people think.”
“And you never are,” Alicia returned.
“So, are you guys serious?” Jen asked, not letting it drop.
“I don’t know.” Juggling the intricacies of this fake relationship was starting to get difficult with Jen the inquisitor on the case.
Alicia couldn’t get too fake-serious with him, or Jen would expect too much. But being too fake-casual with Brian could be dangerous. Jen might start looking around for a replacement. It was a delicate balance.
Now might be a perfect time for some of that truth she was throwing around before. “I’m nervous about getting too serious.”
“Nervous about what?” Jen paused with two different colors of grout in her hands to look at Alicia.
“I don’t have the best track record with long-term serious relationships.”
“Everybody has break-ups in their past. You can’t let it define your future.”
“But what if I fall hard for this guy and then it ends like it did with Greg? I don’t want that again.”
Putting the grout down, her sister drew in a breath. “Remember when we were little and old Digger died? And I wanted another puppy right away and you started a campaign to talk Mom and Dad out of getting another dog.”
“Yes.” She did remember. It was heartbreaking losing a pet at that age.
“You were so upset when we got Dash, you refused to even pet him. Until you got pneumonia and were stuck at home alone while I went to school. He slept with you, day and night, the entire time you were sick in bed. And he didn’t stop after you got better. You two were joined at the hip after that. And even though you didn’t want to in the beginning, you loved him.”
