by Rhian Cahill
“I’m sure I will.” At least that was the plan. He might have bought something a little over the top for a single guy, but he was determined to make this a home he could raise a family in even if he didn’t have one yet.
“I’ll get out of your hair and see you when you drop off the key for your apartment.”
“You will. Barring any problems, I’d say I’ll be ready to hand it in on Wednesday. And thank you, Mrs. Russell, you’ve made everything about my move to Sunnyville easy.”
She smiled up at him. “It’s my pride, it doesn’t allow me to be anything but the best, and the best make sure every client gets the home they’re looking for.”
“Well, this client couldn’t be happier.” Smiling at her, he added, “I’ll see you on Wednesday with the apartment key.”
And close that final door on his old life. The new one was already well underway. He loved his job and the house he’d bought despite it not being a “single man’s” ideal home.
“Good, good.” She patted his arm. “See you then.”
He marveled at the older woman as she made her way back to her car. She’d helped make his transition into civilian life a smooth one. He’d been unsure of his decision to move to a new town in the beginning, and Mrs. Russell had gone out of her way to accommodate him, first in his search for temporary housing and then in his hunt for a permanent dwelling.
And she’d outdone herself every step of the way on that score. Her questions—his answers—had given her a clear idea of what he was looking for in a home. Within a week, she had three places for him to look at. All the houses had appealed, but this one on Olympic Street felt most right.
Yes, it was much bigger than the other two, a lot of house for an unattached guy. However, the large yard, along with the huge deck off the back of the house, had sold him instantly.
He’d had a vision of his children running around on the grass, his wife sitting beside him, cold beer in his hand, a glass of wine in hers . . .
Yeah, he’d known the second he’d stepped out on that deck that this was the place for him.
He might not be looking for that wife and family just yet, but he didn’t plan to remain celibate forever.
He’d decided he’d wait a year after the move.
A year to settle in—to the job, now the house—then he’d start looking.
Before that, he would make friends, more friends than he’d already made on the job in the last six months, and immerse himself deeper in his new hometown.
Rylan liked the idea of settling into a community like Sunnyville. And there wasn’t an army base within a hundred miles. Not that he’d been uncomfortable living near one after his discharge, but it was time to move on, put that behind him and embrace life as a civilian.
His physical injuries were one hundred percent healed, and there were no residual effects from the crash other than the occasional flashback. And those were limited to his nightmares. Nightmares that were few and far between these days.
He’d recovered fully. What the army doctors said would take years, he’d accomplished in a little over fifteen months. Astonishing when you tossed in a cheating wife, a betraying best friend, a divorce, a move, and a new job.
Yeah, he’d recovered fully.
From everything.
It made him wonder if he had loved Renee at all. She’d certainly accused him of not loving her, of not being there for her.
Rylan shook his head.
No more of that.
None of it mattered. She was in the past. He’d had no contact with her or his former best friend since the divorce was finalized twelve months ago, and he was happy to keep it that way.
Another reason to move away. There was no chance of running into either of them at the supermarket here.
Sunnyville held no bad memories or living reminders of what he’d lost.
Then again, when he looked back, it seemed as though he’d never really had it to begin with.
3
Mazey paused on the sidewalk to scan the street, a smile curling her lips.
She’d come into town an hour early for her lunch date with Alyssa to have some time to walk around and check out some of the shops in the place she’d decided would be her home.
She’d begged off meeting her friend the day before and taken her first full day in Sunnyville to settle into the house. By midday yesterday, she’d had everything in its place or put away—and that included putting a couch, a bed frame, and a small table and two chairs together. She hadn’t kept any furniture from her old apartment, her old life. She’d sold everything, or given it away, along with a great deal of her personal effects.
A fresh start was what she wanted, so a fresh start was what she’d have.
Everything in her new life was new, including a lot of her clothes. She’d donated all the outfits she’d bought with Stuart’s approval or in the hope of having it. She’d kept the comfy jeans and sweats he hated. Smiling wide at the thought of his face if he could see her wardrobe now, she felt nothing but pleasure where once she would have been horrified.
He would be disgusted by the holey jeans and faded threadbare T-shirt she wore at the moment—in public no less! Not to mention the heart attack he’d have if he knew she’d made a quick stop at Ikea before leaving LA to purchase the bare essentials in home furnishings so she wasn’t sleeping or sitting on the floor.
There wasn’t a designer label in sight anywhere in this new life she was building. He’d be appalled, and Mazey was thrilled with the idea of causing him such distress.
And what did that say about her that she enjoyed that thought so much?
She hadn’t wanted anything but to escape Stuart and the explosive end of their relationship before now. All she’d wanted was to get away and forget it all.
She wanted to strip herself of the flash of her previous life and start a new one. One without the dark cloud of betrayal and deception coating everything. One without the unnecessary accessories someone else told her she should have—should want.
Instead, she would concentrate on her new job then the purchase of her new home. A house.
And yes, it would be a house.
She was done living in apartments or in any way, shape, or form in a manner someone else dictated.
Sucking in a deep breath, Mazey reminded herself that she didn’t have to worry about pleasing someone else anymore. She didn’t need anyone’s approval, no one would—or could—tell her how to live her life, and as she gazed down the street, she knew to her bones moving here had been the right decision.
Sunnyville would be her home—was her home.
Everything she’d seen so far appealed, especially the nods and smiles she received from complete strangers as they passed her on the sidewalk. You didn’t get that living in LA.
Yeah, this had definitely been the right move.
Turning on her heel, she took a step and collided with a hard body. The only way to describe what happened next was to say she bounced like a tennis ball off a brick wall and hit the ground ass first.
Unfortunately, her bouncing skills ended on the pavement. Pain shot through her butt cheeks, up her spine where it gripped her ribs and shoved the air from her lungs.
“Shit! Are you all right?”
With no breath to push through her vocal cords, all Mazey could manage was a nod. Her vision was a little fuzzy, and other than a dark looming shadow, she couldn’t make out the owner of the deep voice leaning over her.
“Are you sure? Here let me help you up.” He didn’t wait for a reply, just hooked large warm hands beneath her elbows and lifted her to her feet. “Steady?”
Another nod and a sucked in breath, and she was almost at the point of being able to speak when her eyes refocused and the man with his hands on her bare skin became clear.
Except that couldn’t be what he looked like because she’d never seen anyone that good looking in real life. Unless she counted the occasional spotting of a Hollywood celebrity in LA, which she didn’t.<
br />
Blinking up—and it was up because this guy had to be at least six-four to her five-three—Mazey wondered if maybe she’d hit her head.
“Hey!” He gave her elbows a gentle squeeze. “Are you okay? I didn’t see you hit your head but . . .”
Swallowing hard, Mazey attempted to form words, except what came out wasn’t what had formed in her head. “Did I just bounce my way into the land of giants?”
He laughed. A deep rumbly sound that made his chest shake and her nerve endings vibrate. “No. Did I bump into an escapee from the land of fairies?”
Her mouth dropped open. At five-three, she wasn’t exactly the tallest woman in the world, then again, she wasn’t exactly the shortest either. “No, we’re both still in Sunnyville.”
“Are you sure you’re all right? You’re not hurt anywhere?” His hands slid up the outside of her arms as his gaze traveled over her face, down her neck, over her torso, and passed over her jean-clad legs to her pink painted toenails before moving back up again.
He took his time, and the shiver that rippled through her couldn’t be labeled as anything but erotic.
She’d never had a man look at her like that. It wasn’t lewd, and she didn’t feel objectified, but there was no denying the sexual sting in his gaze.
“Sorry.” He shook his head slightly. “No wonder I mowed you down. You’re a teeny little thing.”
Mazey’s spine snapped straight. “Size doesn’t matter.” It wasn’t the first time someone had commented on her size, and while this man didn’t appear to be doing it in a derogatory way, she’d had enough of that in her life to be on the defensive whenever someone mentioned her delicate frame. “You shouldn’t judge a book by its cover.”
He let her go and raised his hands I surrender style. “Sorry. Didn’t mean anything by that other than we’re not an even match in the size department for bumping into each other.”
Damn it. She needed to get over that shit. Just one more stain Stuart had left on her life. Forcing a smile, she said, “No, it’s okay. I’m sorry. I’m a touch sensitive about that subject.”
“Are you sure you’re not hurt?” He bent his knees to bring their eyes more on level. “You hit the ground pretty hard.”
Other than a bruised ass, she didn’t think there was any real damage. “I’m fine. Just had the wind knocked out of me for a second.”
He smiled. “Can I buy you a drink to apologize for bulldozing over you?”
“Oh, um, yes, okay.” She was nodding when she remembered Alyssa. “Shit. Oops. Shoot. Sorry. I can’t. I’m meeting someone.”
His gaze chilled. The warmth that had been in his eyes instantly froze, slapping her with a blast of cold shock. His body straightening as though a steel rod had been shoved up his spine. “Right. Well, if you’re okay.”
Before she could answer, he stepped around her and strode away.
Left with her mouth agape, Mazey watched his long legs eat up the sidewalk as he all but ran away from her. Frozen in place, she stared until he disappeared from sight.
“Huh. That was weird.” And disappointing. She was about to suggest they exchange numbers or meet up for coffee another time when he took off like his ass was on fire. Mazey rubbed her own stinging ass and wondered what it was she’d said to send him running.
Caught up in her thoughts, she didn’t hear Alyssa until she was right beside her and putting a hand on her shoulder. “Hey, you okay? What’s wrong?”
“Oh.” She pulled her gaze away from the last place she’d seen the giant male bulldozer and focused on Alyssa. “Nothing. I just had this weird run-in with a guy.”
“Run-in?”
Mazey laughed. “Literally. We ran into each other.”
“Are you all right?” Alyssa asked, her concern genuine, both hands on Mazey’s shoulders, gaze searching for injury.
“Yes. Fine. Let’s get lunch, and I’ll tell you all about it.”
“I can’t stay long. I’m covering a shift for a friend at the hospital tomorrow and need to catch some sleep before then.”
“The hospital?”
“I’m a casual, on-call nurse for the hospital as well as working for Mercy-Life. With the way our schedule works, I can do a few shifts a month to supplement my income. It makes having a live-in housekeeper-slash-babysitter possible.”
“Oh, do you need to get home?” Mazey hadn’t realized Alyssa even had a child. “I didn’t know . . .”
“It’s fine. And Penny isn’t my child. She’s my sister. It’s a long story and recent development. Since you’re living in Sunnyville and working at Mercy I’ll be able to tell you all about it. But for now”—Alyssa slipped her arm through Mazey’s—“I want to talk about you and all the changes in your life.”
Mazey smiled. It had been a while since she’d had a close girlfriend. Stuart had alienated her social circle early on in their relationship, and she hadn’t made any effort to stop him.
One more thing she’d let him dictate.
She’d been so stupid. The harder she looked at what they’d had—or what she thought they’d had—the more she realized she hadn’t been happy.
And the kicker was, with distance and her eyes wide open, she was pretty sure she hadn’t loved him at all.
She’d loved the idea of him.
She’d loved having a partner.
She’d loved the promise of a future.
A future that was now pointed in a completely different direction.
4
Rylan marched down the sidewalk as though he had a group of hostiles on his six.
“What the fuck was that?” He dodged left and right so he didn’t plow anyone else over. “Who the fuck was that?”
Stepping to the side, he shoved open the door to Lulu’s Diner, shot inside and stopped, then glanced over his shoulder.
The door slowly closed. No one stood behind him. No one had followed him. She hadn’t followed him.
He couldn’t even see her anymore, just the pedestrians going about their day as they walked past, and yet he still felt her as though she was strapped to his back.
A long breath left his chest when the space behind him remained empty.
No. She hadn’t followed him. But then why the hell would she?
He’d mowed her down on the sidewalk like a tank in a war zone. He hadn’t been paying attention to his surroundings, had been looking across the road at where he’d parked his truck trying to remember if he’d locked it or not, then boom! He’d taken a hit, and for a split second, every muscle in his body snapped taut, ready to spring into action to protect himself—protect his team.
When he’d seen the woman falling, he’d stepped forward, reached out, but hadn’t been quick enough to stop her motion. He’d felt the jar of her landing in his own ass and immediately bent down for her.
His focus had been on making sure she was okay, in assessment mode. Until he’d let his gaze travel over her from head to toe. He was fine, and then an inexplicable wave of awareness flooded every cell in his body.
He’d stumbled over apologizing and inviting her for a drink. When she’d told him yes, there was a burst of euphoria—relief—followed by crushing loss and anger as the words I’m meeting someone had fallen from her lips.
He hadn’t waited around for further explanation.
He couldn’t.
Couldn’t stand there and let her tell him she was seeing someone, that she was taken.
“Hey, Ry!” A hand clapped down on his shoulder and squeezed. “You okay, man? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“Yeah, maybe,” he murmured as he turned and faced Grayson Malone. “What? No.”
Gray frowned at him.
“Sorry. I bumped into a woman.”
One of his friend’s eyebrows arched, a sparkle lighting his eyes. “Oh . . . ?”
Rylan laughed. “Not like that. I literally bumped into her. On the street. Knocked her down.”
“Is she all right?” Gray asked, concern cr
easing his brow as he glanced over Rylan’s shoulder.
“Oh, yes, it’s just . . .” He looked behind himself again. “It felt like I knew her. Except I didn’t. There’s no way I’d met her before and forgotten.” She’d made him think of fairy princesses and fragile flowers and his body had gone tight with tension, his groin tingling with a need he hadn’t felt in a long, long time.
“Are you sure? You’ve met a lot of new people since you moved here.” Gray turned and headed toward a table. “Maybe it was someone from work. Or maybe she lives on your street,” he added as he pulled out a chair.
Rylan shook his head. Nope. No way that woman lived near him. Besides, it wasn’t that he recognized her precisely, it was more of a feeling, a knowing, as though he had known her, did know her—should know her. Somehow. “Déjà vu.”
“What?” Gray looked at him in confusion.
“Sorry.” Rylan grinned. “I’m still back down the street. Never mind that. Let’s order something to eat and get this meeting over with.”
“Don’t make it sound like I’m going to rip your thumbnails out.”
Rylan laughed. “Right, instead, you’re going to rip out my deepest, darkest fears.”
Gray’s head tipped to the side, and his mouth half kicked up. “You have fears?”
“No more than the next guy who has to fly patients, sometimes critical, to medical facilities.”
“I hear that. Still, I’m the one you nominated to check in with for the first six months of employment. If I’m not mistaken, this will be our final chat.” Gray grinned. “And unless I’ve missed something or you’re a damn good actor, you’re well over the trauma of the crash.”
“I was over it the second I woke up in the hospital,” Rylan grumbled.
He hated that he’d had to agree to these sessions with Gray, someone he considered an equal, except they’d allowed him to connect with his co-worker quicker than if they had only crossed paths at work. Being forced together once a week for the last six months had afforded them the chance to get close, to really talk. Because they didn’t just talk about work or Rylan’s crash, they talked about their lives.
