Only For Forever: An Enemies to Lovers, Small Town Romance (Men of Rocky Mountain)

by Alexis Winter

  Ryder shakes his head and whistles before picking up a log and splitting it perfectly in two with one swing of the axe. “You’re an idiot, you know that? I’m surprised she let you leave with your balls.”

  “You and me both, buddy.” I grab our water bottles and step inside to refill them. A moment later, I’m back outside, placing a large log on the tree stump before I raise the axe overhead—right as the sound of car doors shutting breaks my focus. I glance up and see Leigh and Steph walking around the edge of the house. I make eye contact with Leigh just as I bring the axe down and split the log in two. I watch her gaze and know she’s pretending not to notice that I’m shirtless. I’m trying not to smile. I put the axe down and walk over to where she and Steph are standing.

  “Hey, the watch is inside,” I say, motioning for her to follow me into the house. She’s quiet as she walks behind me.

  “You want anything to drink?” I ask as I walk into the kitchen and grab the watch off the counter.

  “I’m good. Just the watch.” Her smile is firm and tight-lipped but she’s not looking at me. I follow her gaze and see Steph with her hands buried in her pockets, standing by Ryder. She’s laughing as he talks.

  “Think those two like each other?” I ask and she shrugs, clearly not in the mood for small talk. I hand her the watch and she takes it from me, her fingers brushing softly against my palm. I have to remind myself that she’s not mine, because all I want to do in this moment is grab her wrist and pull her lips to mine.

  “Thanks again,” she says with a nod before spinning on her heels and walking back through the house to the front door. I don’t follow her. I hang back and watch through the large bay window off the dining room as she walks over to Ryder and Steph. They talk for a moment before Leigh and Steph wave goodbye, head back to the Audi, and take off.

  “Looks like someone has a crush,” I laugh. Ryder spins around and waves me off like I’m crazy. “Come on, man. Steph is cute and single, so why not?”

  “You’re screwed, man,” Ryder says, ignoring my question.

  “How so?” I pick up my axe and place another log on the stump in front of me.

  “When I asked Leigh how the date with you went,” he smiles and shakes his head, “she said it wasn’t a date . . . it was a funeral because you killed any chance of a second one.”

  He doubles over with laughter and acid feels like it’s bubbling from my stomach all the way up to the base of my throat. I bring the axe over my head and cut the log in two.

  7

  Leigh

  “Hey,” I say to Steph as she opens the door and slides into the passenger seat of my car. “We have to make a quick pit stop on our way to look at the space with August.”

  “All good, I’m in no rush.” She smiles. “So is this the space that’s right downtown or the one that’s a standalone building off of Maple?”

  A few weeks ago, I reached out to August about touring a few places for my future Pilates gym. The one I established in Boulder is doing so well that I want to replicate it out here in Grand Lake.

  “This is the one downtown. I think I liked the standalone one better when I looked at it online, but the tenants are still using it, and since they plan to be gone by next month, I told August we can just check it out then. Plus this gives us an excuse to stop into Bean & Bun for pastries and see how Violet is doing.”

  We make our way toward the lake, and I casually glance over at Steph to see if she’s caught on to where we’re headed, but she’s buried in something on her phone.

  “Wait, are we—” she looks up from her phone before glancing over at me and smiling. “Are we heading to Grant’s house?”

  “Yeah, I, uh . . . I dropped my watch or something on that date with him and he found it and texted me this morning.” I refuse to look at her.

  “You dropped it somewhere? Or did you leave it at his place?” I don’t say anything and she gasps. “You liar! You told me nothing happened between you two.” She’s practically giddy with excitement.

  “It was nothing, trust me. Just a mistake,” I mutter under my breath.

  “It couldn’t have been that bad.” She reaches over and squeezes my forearm and I give her a look that says trust me.

  “What happened? Did he come before he even got it in you?” She laughs. “Or did he do the whole oh my God, wrong hole, I’m so sorry, I had no idea thing? They always think we believe that. News flash: nobody does!”

  I look over at her. “What are you talking about?” I laugh and she just shakes her head.

  “So seriously, what happened?” she asks again.

  “I told him it was a mistake and he clearly didn’t see it that way and I think it offended him. Oh, and then I may have turned a compliment he gave me into a jab about how many women he’s been with. He ended up making a snide remark about how many men I’ve been with and said I was just a pity fuck.”

  “Damn, that’s pretty harsh . . . on both your parts. What the hell is wrong with you two? It’s like you get off on being mean to each other.”

  “What?” My mouth drops open and my head snaps to look at her. “That’s not true.”

  “It kind of is though. You guys are always making jabs and remarks when you’re ‘flirting,’” she does dramatic air quotes. “I thought it was funny at first, but now it doesn’t sound very healthy, Leigh.”

  I sigh. “You’re being dramatic. We aren’t married. We just hooked up and found out that we still don’t like each other. End of story.”

  “But,” she says, and I look over at her as she wriggles her eyebrows up and down, “was it good?”

  “Oh look, we’re here.” I smile as we pull into Grant’s house, successfully avoiding answering the question.

  We walk to the front door and I’m about to knock when I hear a loud thwack coming from the side of the house. We both look at each other before walking back across the driveway and peering around the side of the house.

  “OH. MY. GOD,” Steph says, grabbing my arm just as Grant lifts his arms over his shirtless, sweaty body and brings an axe down swiftly, splitting a log clean in two.

  Holy fucking shit. My panties melt on the spot. I only saw Grant as the neat-and-clean doctor type. Sure, he has a perfectly sculpted and chiseled body from working out and eating well, but he’s also a mountain man? I look over at Steph, who’s transfixed on Ryder’s likewise shirtless body. Clearly I’m not the only one taking in the sights.

  “What in the name of Magic Mike?” I mutter.

  “I’m going to go talk to Ryder,” she whispers as she smiles and waves at him before making a beeline right toward him, with me following along behind her. I barely say hi before Grant walks over to me, letting me know the watch is inside and motioning for me to follow him.

  Do not stare. DO NOT STARE. I say to myself over and over as I walk behind Grant. His jeans are slung low on his narrow hips, his back flexing as he reaches forward and opens the door. Memories of his broad shoulders between my thighs flash through my brain and I squeeze my eyes shut for a second, praying they disappear.

  I hate this. I want to tell him how amazing the house is, how sexy he looks, how much I can’t stop thinking about him since the way we left things. I want to apologize and tell him that it was a shitty thing for me to say, but instead, I just take the watch and thank him, even avoiding his attempt to make small talk about the obvious love that’s blossoming outside between Ryder and Steph.

  I make my way across the lawn toward the lovebirds. It’s nice to see Steph smile and laugh so genuinely. She and I have become close in the short time since I moved here, but I know there’s a lot I don’t know about her yet. She’s hinted at her past being troubled, but I don’t pry. I know that when she’s ready, she’ll let me into that part of her life.

  “Leigh,” Ryder tips his head toward me, and the deep timbre of his voice is like honey—thick and sweet. “Heard you and Grant had a little date. I hope he was a gentleman?” I know I shouldn’t, but I can’t h
elp but snort at the mention of the words Grant and gentleman in the same sentence.

  “Let’s just say it was more of a funeral than a date.”

  “That doesn’t sound good,” Ryder says as he looks from me to Steph.

  “He killed any chance of a second date.” I smile as Steph’s mouth hangs open in shock and Ryder throws his head back and howls in laughter.

  “Damn,” Steph says, hopping back into my car as we make our way to downtown Grand Lake. “You sent a message all right.”

  “So what’s with you and Ryder?” I ask in sincerity but also want to change the subject from Grant and me.

  Her smile falters. “He’s a really great guy . . .” She looks out the passenger window.

  “But?”

  “I’m just not sure about things. If I’m ready.” She sighs, running her finger absentmindedly along the seam of her jeans.

  “Well, it doesn’t have to be something serious. You guys clearly seem to like each other and you’re attracted to him, so . . .” I let the words hang in the air. I don’t know why I’m trying to fix this for Steph. It’s not my business. I look over at her and can see she’s lost in her own world. I reach over and grab her hand, keeping one on the wheel. “I’m sorry . . . it’s not my place, Steph.”

  “What about you?” She looks over at me, hair whipping around her face from the open window, and for a second I want to ask her more about her past—to know why she won’t allow herself to be happy—but I don’t.

  “Well, in total honesty . . . I like Grant.” I sigh and it feels good to finally admit it. Not sure why—it’s not like he’s married or something. “I know it’s messed up and I really hate that I like that bastard, but ugh.” I smack the steering wheel and Steph laughs.

  “Aww, someone’s got a cruuuush,” she teases and it makes me laugh.

  “Yeah, something like that.”

  “So did you mean what you said to Ryder? That there’s no chance of a second date with Grant?”

  I shrug. “I dunno. The comeback just slipped out. I think I’m so used to saying snarky, rude things back to Grant that it was an automatic response. If we both just got our heads out of our asses, then maybe we could make it work, so odds are, it won’t happen. Every time I have a lapse in judgment and think I like him, he opens his mouth and ruins it.”

  My phone chimes, alerting me to a text message from August.

  “Hey Siri, read my message,” I say through the Bluetooth of my car.

  “Message from August. Change of plans, let’s meet at the Bean & Bun first. I’m in serious need of caffeine and sugar.”

  “Siri, text back: That’s perfect. Steph and I were going to stop there first anyway. See you in five.”

  I suddenly feel a pit form in my stomach. Grant is August’s ex, and even though she’s happily married to someone else now, I’m not sure how she’d feel about Grant and me. Guilt surges through my body and my palms start to sweat. Shit, how could I have been so careless to forget about August’s feelings in all of this?

  “Hey,” I grip the steering wheel and glance over at Steph. “Could you keep the Grant and me stuff to yourself?”

  “Uh, sure. I mean, hadn’t planned on telling anyone your business anyway, but what’s up?” Her brows furrow.

  “It’s just that I don’t want August to know . . . yet. I feel like a horrible friend going on a date and . . .” I hesitate, “sleeping with her ex without telling her or asking her first.” Ugh, the words feel so dirty coming out of my mouth.

  “Oh, honestly, Leigh, I’m sure she’d be fine with it. Didn’t she even tell you she thinks he likes you?”

  “Yeah, they were still together then and I know it’s easy to joke about stuff like that, but it’s a whole different ball game when you actually have to see your ex and your friend get together. I do plan on telling her that I went out with him . . . just not today.”

  We ride the rest of the way in silence, the gnawing feeling in my gut not going away. Just another reason why Grant Rossi and I shouldn’t be together.

  We spend the next hour walking through the possible studio and catching up. August fills us in on married life with Remi and how her business is going.

  “What about you? How are you ladies? I feel like between the honeymoon and buying the land and having our forever home built, I’ve been so MIA from everyone.”

  “Nothing new here. Just the same old bar scene every night,” Steph sighs.

  “Yeah, not too much going on here either besides pouring all my focus into finding a studio. And don’t stress about being busy with life, August. We’re just so happy you guys are together.” I reach out and rub her arm, hoping I convey to her how much I mean it. I know at times it seems she still feels guilt for marrying a guy I briefly dated, but they had a lifetime of history before I even came along.

  “You ever hear from Grant?” The words are out of my mouth before I can think through them and Steph shoots me a what the hell? glance.

  “Funny you should ask!” August laughs. “I ran into him at Bean & Bun last week. We made small talk and he was so sweet—literally no bad blood between us at all. It was such a relief!”

  We head out of the building, August locking up behind us as we start to say our goodbyes on the sidewalk.

  “Hey, really quick,” I hesitate. “You asked me once if you thought Grant might have a crush on me or if he talked to me or whatever, and I was just curious . . . what made you think that again?”

  August smiles. “Oh, he just talked about you a lot—about how awesome he thought your class was, which I completely agree with, by the way. It’s not that I felt threatened by how kick-ass of a woman you are, but for example, the night he proposed, he took me to The Capital Grille in Denver with his mother, and after we ordered, he said something like I have to tell Leigh about this place, because she’d love it and I just thought it was strange. I guess I didn’t realize you guys were that close.”

  He took me on a date to the same place he proposed to August? What the actual fuck? I’m suddenly annoyed. Am I reading into this? Should I even care? I guess if you really love a place, you’re bound to take more than one person there.

  “We never were. Truthfully, I always had an attitude with him because he was cocky. And I figured he didn’t like me. I promise, nothing ever happened when you two were together.” My breath catches in my throat when I realize how I worded that, but she doesn’t seem to notice.

  “Yeah, it was a short-lived fear. I asked him if he had a thing for you and he said no.”

  She waves off the concern and I’m about to say goodbye again and head to my car when I stop. “Out of curiosity, what did he say about me?” She pauses, looking up toward the sky for a second like she’s thinking, and then she gets a look on her face. “What?” I ask, a little concerned by her expression.

  “He said that he felt like you were bossy and annoying.” She grabs my hands. “I swear that was him, not me. He’s an idiot. We both know that!”

  I laugh it off and wish her the best as I climb behind the wheel of my car.

  That fucking bastard.

  8

  Grant

  I’m only in town for the weekend and I plan on taking full advantage of seeing Leigh as much as I can. I grab my yoga mat by the back door and head out. I’m five minutes early to class today, so I place my mat in the front row, right in the middle.

  “Hey, Sharon, how’s the sciatica?” I take a seat and place my water bottle and towel next to my mat.

  “Oh hi, Dr. Rossi,” she coos, batting her eyelashes as she touches my arm. “It’s doing so much better. You really do have the magic touch.” Her fingers linger on my arm a little too long and I glance up to see Leigh staring at me.

  “I merely told you how to make it better; you’re the one who put in the work.” I smile.

  I bend and stretch through the next hour of class. Unlike my usual attempts to tease Leigh, today I actually needed some form correction.

  “Ho
ld this pose. You’ve got this, class! Only 15 more seconds,” Leigh says as she comes behind me, grabbing my hips and twisting me deeper into the pose. I can’t help but let out a small groan at her roughness. Bitch. She did that on purpose.

  “You know, I’ve been thinking . . .” I say as I walk over to grab an antibacterial wipe for my mat. Everyone else has cleared out and it’s only Leigh and me left in the studio space.

  “Hope you didn’t hurt yourself.” She laughs to herself.

  “The reason why we can’t seem to get along is because we haven’t spent enough time together. I really only see you on the weekends, and you’re either at class or we cross paths at The Lariat.”

  She stares at me. “Your point being?”

  “Exactly what I just said. We need to spend more time together.” I cross my arms over my chest and lean against the pole in the room.

  “I’ll pass. I like this weekend arrangement. It’s like you’re my stepdad. I don’t want to see you, but I’m forced to on weekends.” She smiles but it’s not genuine.

  “Well, I don’t know about that, but I sure as hell won’t say no to you calling me daddy.” I step closer to her and brush a stray curl out of her face.

  “Eww,” she says, swatting my hand away and I laugh in response. “I’ll ask you again for the 50th time: Does that kind of stuff actually work on women?”

  “What do you think?” I toss her a wink as she flips off the lights and starts toward the door. “Hey, wait.” I grab her wrist as she walks by, spinning her around to face me.

  “What?”

  I turn her to look out into the main area of the gym. Dozens of people are milling about, running on treadmills, and bouncing from machine to machine. I place my hands softly on her waist.

  “Think any of those people out there know how good a fuck you are?” I say the words softly and deliberately in her ear—fully expecting her to spin around and deck me across the face—but she doesn’t. I feel her body tense against mine, but then she relaxes a little as I run my finger up her bare inner arm.