Somebody To Love

by Wendy Vella

  Table of Contents

  TITLE PAGE

  DEDICATION

  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

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  EPILOGUE

  THANK YOU!

  SNEAK PEEK

  OTHER BOOKS BY WENDY VELLA

  SOMEBODY TO LOVE

  by Wendy Vella

  He was the bad boy no one trusted

  Bailey’s burned out, and not sure what leads her back to Ryker Falls, but has a feeling it’s got something to do with closure. Bad boy Joe Trainer was once her soulmate, but she isn’t sure she has a soul anymore. Finding he’s made something of his life is a shock, as he’d been on a one-way trip to hell when she left. This new Joe is sexy and enticing, but she knows all too well there’s a devil underneath the urbane exterior.

  She was the good girl who never broke the rules

  When Joe’s childhood friend, Bailey Jones, returns to Ryker Falls, his life suddenly shifts from settled to off-center. Once they’d been closer than anyone ever guessed; now, they’re chilly strangers. But Joe’s not letting his stubborn, sexy-as-hell ex-best friend stay closed off. He lost her once through his own stupidity; this time he’s never letting her go. Joe knows he doesn’t deserve a second chance, but he’s never played by the rules before, so he’s not starting now. Game on.

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  Somebody To Love is a work of fiction. Names, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  Somebody To Love is published by Wendy Vella

  Copyright © 2017 Wendy Vella

  ISBN: 978-0-9941388-8-0

  DEDICATION

  This one is for all the people who have walked through my life.

  Too numerous to name, but so special they deserve a mention.

  “Some people come into our lives and quickly go. Some people move our souls to dance. They awaken us to a new understanding with the passing whisper of their wisdom. Some people make the sky more beautiful to gaze upon. They stay in our lives for awhile, leave footprints on our hearts, and we are never, ever the same.”

  -Flavia Weedn

  CHAPTER ONE

  There weren’t too many things in life Joe Trainer couldn’t stomach. He could put on a load of wash without it upsetting his day, even clean up the mess some idiot made in his bar after drinking more than he could stomach. But grocery shopping, that was right up there with brussels sprouts to his mind. This issue usually reared its ugly head when he opened the fridge and found a wedge of moldy cheese, stale milk, and something suspicious growing on a plate that had been shoved to the rear, but little else. There’d also been the issue of washing his hair with soap because he’d run out of shampoo. Not too much of an issue as far as Joe was concerned, but his aunt would have plenty to say if she noticed. Although why she felt it necessary to check out his shower supplies when she dropped by, he had no clue.

  “I just want guy shampoo,” he muttered, looking at the shelves before him. Three down, four wide. The bottles ranged in color and shape, like pretty wrapped candy. Nothing pretty here, however , he thought picking one up.

  “What the hell is paraben and why don’t I want it in my shampoo?” Putting it back, he reached for another.

  “You doing okay there, Joe?”

  “God’s truth, Bit. I just want guy shampoo. Honest-to-goodness stuff that I put in my hair. It foams up, then I wash it out, usually getting it in my eyes at the same time.” Reading the label, he added, “Why would I want to put ylang-ylang on my head? Better still, what the hell is it?”

  “Honestly, Joe, get more aware. The cananga tree has flowers called ylang-ylang, which is where the essential oils in that bottle you’re holding come from.”

  Joe studied the tiny woman standing at his side. He’d only ever known her as Bit, even though she was actually Mrs. Rosemary Yardly. Her nickname came because she was a tiny bit of woman with a huge personality.

  “How come you know this stuff?”

  “This is my store. I need to know what I’m selling when morons like you come in clueless. It makes me feel smart.”

  “Harsh but true.” Joe nodded.

  She had white hair cut short, a round body, and wore a red apron with a can of beans on the front.

  “Nice apron.”

  “Thanks, you want one? I have a spare.”

  “All good, you leave it for the staff, I’d hate to deprive them.”

  “You’re a good man, Joe Trainer.”

  “Everyone’s saying it,” Joe muttered, picking up another bottle of shampoo and reading the label.

  “Buzz’s dog biscuits are on special if you want to pick him up some more.”

  “I’ll do that thanks.”

  A loud crash rang through the store.

  “What the hell was that?” Joe said.

  “The sound of my profits. What idiot has dropped something now?”

  Bit left at a run, leaving him no closer to his shampoo choice. Joe closed his eyes and reached out, selecting the first bottle he touched. He then placed it in the cart and continued down the aisle, making random selections. Joe wasn’t a list shopper... in fact any shopper. He bought what appealed, end of story.

  Turning, he was hit with the tang of pickles. Deciding that he didn’t need anything from that aisle right at that moment, he took the next, and stopped several feet down it. A woman was standing on the toes of her peach-colored sneakers, trying to reach something on the top shelf. On the slim side, she had long legs in fitted, worn jeans boasting a label that told him they’d been worth some serious money when they were new. His eyes travelled to the outline of two ribs he could see between the small band of smooth skin and the waistband of her white long-sleeved T-shirt.

  “Need some help?”

  “No, I got it, thanks.”

  He watched as she reached for something, but failed.

  “Just a few more inches and you may just do it,” Joe encouraged.

  Her blonde hair was on top of her head in a messy knot that women seemed to favor, and he had to admit to liking it.

  Checking the label on the box she was inches from reaching, Joe felt the small sting of pain he always felt seeing Bailey’s favorite candy. It’s been fifteen years, bud, time to let her go. Joe wondered, as he often did, how Bailey Jones had made such an impression in his life the two years she was in it.

  “Right here whenever you’re ready to concede defeat.”

  She let out a huff of breath, then stepped back
a few feet to look at him. He saw a face that needed a few pounds and some sleep, but for all that she was pretty, actually more than, Joe thought. Sweet. Satin-smooth skin. Color rode high on her pronounced cheekbones. His eyes fell to a full lower lip that had dropped open as she looked at him.

  “Is something....” Joe’s words fell away as he noted the shocked, smoky-gray eyes. “Bailey?”

  “Joe?” She whispered his name. While he grappled with who stood before him, she cleared her throat and spoke again, this time louder. “Hello, Joe.”

  Gone was the little girl he’d held sobbing in his arms all those years ago; the vision was now changed for life by the twenty-eight-year-old Bailey Jones who stood before him. “You have to follow me, Joe. Come for me and bring me home. Promise me.” He still remembered the last words she’d spoken to him.

  “Bailey,” he said again, because he had nothing else. Emotion thickened his throat, blocking words, and his head was suddenly filled with visions of a past he’d left behind long ago.

  “C-could you pass me that box, please.”

  “What?” He shook his head, trying to clear the images of what he and Bailey Jones had once shared.

  “Th-the box of Apple Sours.” She turned her face away and looked to the top shelf. “Could you pass it to me, please?”

  Joe made himself walk by her, and reach up. He didn’t know what else to do. Bailey was home. “Just the one?” His voice sounded normal, as if the last time he’d seen this woman was yesterday, not fifteen years ago.

  “Three, thank you.”

  He handed the boxes to her. “My pleasure,” he said, as if the woman before him hadn’t once been the best friend he’d ever had. At thirteen, Bailey had understood him better than anyone else. She’d been the one person who believed in him.

  She put the boxes in the basket over her arm, and gave him a small, tight smile that didn’t reach her eyes. Eyes that had dark smudges underneath. Tired eyes.

  “You here for a vacation?” He made himself talk, act natural, and not give in to the shock that was ricocheting through his body.

  “Yes,” she said. “I’m n-not sure how long yet.”

  He stood silently while she fiddled with her groceries. They were strangers now, he realized. Of all the scenarios he’d thought up about this day, if it ever came, it hadn’t played out like this. He’d thought they’d laugh, discuss the past like old friends. Instead they were uncomfortable with each other, the distance between them a chasm.

  “Well, thanks, Joe. It’s good to see you again.”

  “Ryker Falls is sure a long way from Boston to come for a vacation, Bailey.” He made himself talk while he struggled with the fact that she stood before him. No longer a child, but a beautiful woman.

  “How do you know I was still in Boston?”

  “Maggie.”

  “Of course.” She shot him a look, and he saw she wasn’t as composed as she appeared. Her eyes were darker, a sure sign she was emotional. He remembered that, and so much more about her.

  “Maggie is very proud of her famous friend.”

  “Once famous. I don’t do that now... haven’t for a while.”

  “Really? Last I heard you were still wowing crowds everywhere.”

  She shook her head. “Ha, no, not for months now.”

  “True? Maggs never said. So what’s next for you?”

  “I-I... ah, I’m t-taking a break.”

  He frowned as she stuttered over the words. Bailey had never stuttered, she’d spoken in a clear, concise voice. He watched her inhale deeply, twice. Of course, more than he had changed in the years since they’d last seen each other, he knew that, he just hadn’t expected.... Hell, he had no idea what he’d expected.

  “I decided to come here and see Maggie.” The words were spoken slowly.

  See Maggie, not him.

  “Quite a lot has changed in fifteen years, Bailey.”

  She nodded, but said nothing more. Another change; the old Bailey Jones had filled every gap with words.

  She started moving. Reaching his side, she stopped briefly, and looked up at him. Joe noticed a small crescent-shaped scar high on her cheekbone that hadn’t been there when she was thirteen.

  “Thank you for reaching the Apple Sours for me.”

  He made himself speak. Pushed aside the myriad of feelings choking him, and forced a smile onto his face.

  “No worries, I know what your addiction to them was once like. It’s good to see that hasn’t changed. Nice to see you again, Bailey. I’m sure I’ll see you around.”

  She gave another jerky nod, and something flickered over her face. Sadness, maybe? Whatever, it was soon gone. She managed a shaky smile. He remembered that too. The little girl who had taught herself how to hide away from things that hurt or upset her. She’d often hid her troubled thoughts behind a smile.

  “Goodbye, Joe,” she added before leaving.

  He had the foolish urge to go after her. Take her hand, make contact with her. Instead, he stood where he was, and inhaled. He did it again and again in an attempt to calm himself. Instead, he smelled her. A soft floral scent hung in the air.

  “I’m fairly sure this is the confectionary aisle. Yoga is two over.”

  “Ha” was all Joe could manage. He felt like someone had clamped a vise around his chest. Bailey was home, and she looked.... Christ, how did he explain even to himself how she looked? Beautiful, exhausted, haunted. How had he picked up all that in the few minutes he’d been with her?

  “Hell of a scent in the air, and I like pickles,” Findlay Hudson said.

  “Yeah, clean up in aisle three.” Joe ran a hand through his hair. He and Fin had been friends for a while now; both had pasts that were best left buried.

  Tall like Joe, Fin had brown hair and blue eyes. He was the head ranger in Ryker Falls. He wore his khaki uniform of shorts and shirt, aviators pushed up on his head.

  “You okay, bud? Looking a bit tense around the eyes.”

  “Had my weekly run-in with Ms. Howard,” Joe said, instead of ‘I just walked into someone who had once been my savior, and we’re now strangers.’ “Usually it doesn’t bother me, today it did.” Joe shrugged. His friend knew him well enough to see something was bugging him, so he gave him a variation of the truth.

  “The woman was born to hate, Joe, we both know it. She’s not happy unless she’s making someone else feel the same. You gotta sympathize with her husband.”

  “True that,” Joe grunted. “I can handle her, but sometimes it just pisses me off more than others.”

  “You’ve been back years now, Joe. There’s only a few who have long memories and aren’t willing to forget. Unfortunately, she’s one of them, and vocal about it.”

  He nodded.

  “So you’re good? Or is there something else you need to unload on me while I’m playing Dr. Phil?”

  “You need to stop dating Mandy, bud. She’s making you way too in tune with your emotions.” Joe tried to lighten the mood.

  “The hell you say!”

  “Sissy is what you are. It’s damn unsettling to see it happening, too.” Joe felt the tightness ease inside his chest as he and Fin went at it like they always did.

  Fin slapped his chest. “I’m a goddamned park ranger, Trainer, nothing sissy in that career choice. Unlike you going all soft on me and running a bar.”

  “Which I happen to own, and if you want that table tonight, you better be nicer.”

  “True that,” Fin sighed. “I’m bringing a date, so chuck on a white cloth and some flowers. A candle wouldn’t hurt either.”

  “I live to serve, you know that,” Joe said. “Mandy?”

  “Nah.”

  “Who?”

  “New to town,” Fin said.

  “Tourist?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Got a sister?”

  “Nope.”

  “Shame,” Joe said, slapping his friend on the shoulder as he passed, because it was expected of him. “Gotta get
Buzz some food or he’ll start on the furniture again. Then I’m heading back to the bar, and work on rosters. Two down with illness.”

  “I gave Buzz a biscuit, he should be good for a while.”

  “What biscuit?”

  “The one I had in my pocket.”

  “You’re carrying biscuits around in your pockets now for my dog? Seriously, I swear this town loves him more than me.”

  “Well hell, that’s a given.”

  Joe flipped Fin the bird, and continued with his shopping. He left thirty minutes later with four bags of groceries containing a random selection of things that he neither needed nor wanted. Buzz, however, had his favorite biscuits and a large bone that would send him into ecstasy—he’d managed to get his head straight enough to ensure that.

  Well, hell. Bailey Jones was back in town, and for some reason Joe had a feeling his life was about to be flipped on its head.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Bailey wasn’t sure how she got through the checkout, or managed to acknowledge the lady who served her.

  “You here for the parade?”

  “Parade?”

  “It’s the annual end of summer parade.”

  She remembered the parade, because she’d once been in it on the school float. What she hadn’t remembered was that it was usually in the month of September.

  “I’m not sure I’ll be here.”

  “We have a street party after. It’s worth staying for.” The girl had tight blonde curls and a perky smile. Young and innocent, and still full of self-belief . Had she ever been like that? Thinking back, she doubted it.

  “I’ll think about it, thanks.”

  Parting with some of her precious cash, she then headed out the door, and only when she was back on the street did she breathe easier.

  After fifteen years, she’d come back to Ryker Falls, and twenty minutes in, Joe was the first local she’d seen. “What are the chances?” Muttering these words to herself, Bailey tried to regroup. She was no longer a thirteen-year-old girl who thought the sun rose and set because of Joe Trainer.