Ace

by Laramie Briscoe

  “I made some cookies last night if you want to come hang out while I get ready.”

  One thing Anthony has more than anyone I’ve ever met in my life, is a sweet tooth. Although looking at him, you would never know it. His body is lean, abs are cut, muscles are solid. He must work out like a goddamn fiend to eat the amount of sugar he does.

  “You don’t have to ask me twice.” He locks up his portion of the duplex and follows me to mine.

  Like most women who’ve lived through the same situation as I have, I do my rituals. First, I unlock the door and deactivate the alarm that was installed for me, but I don’t set my purse down until I’ve done a sweep of the living space. There’s absolutely nowhere in my place that anyone can hide; I made sure the first night I was here. Setting my purse down, I reach in and pull out the gun that I’m licensed to carry. When I’m home, I keep it locked up because I have other weapons stashed throughout the house I can use at a moment’s notice. It doesn’t matter if my husband is still behind bars, there’s no way in hell I’ll let another person beat me again.

  “How’s that working for you?” Anthony nods toward the gun.

  He’d gone with me to pick it out, took me to get my permit, and spent hours with me at the shooting range so I wouldn’t kill myself trying to shoot someone else. It had taken me a little bit to find a gun I liked.

  “Good, I went to the range the other day.” I reach into my closet, pulling out the sheet from my last session. Nine out of ten shots on this one hit my target.

  “Damn, Vi.” He whistles between his teeth before giving me a high-five. “That’s my girl.”

  I try not to let his words mean too much, but they warm a place in my chest that’s been cold for a long time. “I’m getting there.”

  “You’re there, don’t put yourself down. You’re making things happen, Violet. Don’t think you’re not.”

  “I am.” I nod. Although a part of me doesn’t believe it. I was told too often how much I didn’t matter, all the things I did wrong, and how I’d never be able to do anything right. I’m not sure when I’ll stop having these self-loathing thoughts, but at some point it’s got to change. Right? “Be right back.”

  I escape to the bathroom, planning on taking the quickest shower of my life.

  Ace

  I can’t tell if she’s uncomfortable with me, or with the praise I give her. I know from my line of work that it could be one or both. From experience I know that if I keep staying the course I have with her for the last eight or nine months things will work out the way they’re supposed to.

  I’m a patient guy, I had to be when I was a sniper. I literally waited for days sometimes to get my target. This woman in the bathroom enjoying her shower is going to be the ultimate prize for me. She’s a target I’m not going to miss. I never missed during my time while in the special forces, I won’t miss here.

  I just worry that I’ll come on too strong for her, that the intense guy I am will push through and the patience will wear off.

  “You got this, Anthony,” I whisper to myself as I reach forward and grab another cookie, stuffing it in my mouth. I have to have this, because the moment I met this woman I felt a spark. One I’ve never felt before in my life.

  So patience is the word of the day when it comes to this woman, and myself. She’s been let down by a lot of people in her life, and I won’t be a letdown for her. I’ll be the person she can count on and the one who’ll lift her up.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Ace

  “You ever been down to the Gulf before the last time we tried to go?” I break the silence that’s encompassed us since we left Laurel Springs an hour ago.

  You give Violet and me a series on Netflix, a pizza, and a beer, we can talk all night. Apparently, you put us in my truck on a road trip and it’s fucking crickets.

  “No, this is as far south as I’ve ever lived, and I’ve never visited the beach or ocean before.”

  This is the first I’ve heard about this being as far south as she’s ever lived. We’ve never talked about things like this. I take the plunge and ask the question. “Where are you from, Violet?”

  The windows are down, and within the first thirty minutes she’d pulled her dark hair into a braid. Now she’s holding back escaped tendrils with her palm. “Oklahoma,” she answers above the whipping of the wind.

  “How did you end up in Alabama?”

  This drive has loosened my lips and I’m asking all the questions I always wondered about. There’s a good chance she won’t answer, but all she can do is tell me to fuck off. I’ve been told that plenty of times in my life – no skin off my back.

  She’s quiet for a long time, and I wonder if she’s going to close up, but then she starts to talk. “Brent…” She stops, seeming to gather what she wants to say before pushing it all out. “Worked in the oil industry. For a while we had good money, but then it fell apart in Oklahoma and he began chasing the next big thing. We came here because he actually wanted to get to the Gulf to try and work on the oil rigs off the coast, but we ran out of money. We were both working to get him there.”

  “Is that where you wanted to go?”

  “Didn’t really matter what I wanted.” She shrugs. “I was supposed to go with him and support him. That’s what I was doing.”

  I can tell by the tone of her voice that she truly believes she was supposed to be blind in her support of him. Instead of dwelling on the piece of shit, I steer her to talk about herself. “What is it you want to do now?”

  This time her words are immediate. “What I’m doing right now. I want to finish my paralegal degree to get my feet wet in the legal industry. Then I’ll figure out if I want to commit the time to try and be a lawyer. I’m just not sure if I’m smart enough.” That last bit is mentioned on a sigh.

  “Fuck that noise, you’re one of the smartest people I know.” I reach over the console, wrapping my fingers around hers. This is the small amount of contact she’ll allow us to have. “You always beat the hell out of me when we go to the sports bar and play trivia. You’re a fountain of knowledge.”

  She snorts. “Yeah, useless knowledge. If you need to know a band’s name or lyrics to a song, I’m your woman.”

  “No knowledge is useless, doll.”

  I know it won’t do well to argue with her; once she has her mind set on something, she’s fucking stubborn in changing it. Good thing I’m a patient man.

  Violet

  I’m still wondering what hell I’m doing here with this man, like who in the world do I think I am?

  “Here’s the city limits,” he announces as I see a sign welcoming us to Gulf Shores.

  The windows are still down, the air is warm, and there’s a slight smell of salt in the air. There’s an electricity that’s tangible, I wonder if it’s like this in every oceanside town. The lights of the buildings are flashy, neon colors that glow in the darkness of the night, and people are walking on the sidewalks as far as I can see down the main strip. Not a lot of children at almost nine at night, but lots of couples holding hands. Buildings are built on top of each other, and even though it looks like a tourist trap, I hope one day Anthony and I can come back and go through every single one of them.

  “How far away from the resort are we?” My memory of the area is vague from the last time, because of how quickly things had happened.

  “About five minutes. It’s gorgeous, I think you’ll love it.” He stops at a red light, chancing a look at me. “This time you’ll actually get to go in.”

  I laugh, thinking back to the last time Ryan and Whitney tried to get married. We’d all literally just parked and were getting ready to check in when all the guys were called back to Laurel Springs. “You’ve been inside before?”

  “My little sister got married here,” he reveals, sharing a little of his own life to me.

  “You’ve mentioned her once or twice before. How much older are you than her?”

  He stretches his neck as the light turns
green and we slowly move through the traffic. “I’m twenty-eight, and she just turned twenty-five. She got married when she was twenty-three.”

  “So young,” I comment, even though I got married young too.

  “Right? Wasn’t sure they’d make it, but they keep on trucking. They had my first nephew last year.”

  “They must not live around here?”

  He turns his turn signal on to merge into the lane that takes us to the resort. Checking his blind spot, he slowly slips in. “She’s always looked up to me.” He flashes me a smile. “To the point of marrying a man who’s going into special forces like I did. They’re stationed in North Carolina right now.”

  “So far away.” Then I realize how far away I live from my own family.

  “I’m used to it.” He shrugs. “I joined up when I was eighteen, and the week after graduation I was shipped out to Fort Benning. From there I was stationed in North Carolina too, deployed, had a trip to sniper school, deployed again, and then came back home. It wasn’t until I came back here at twenty-five that I had an address I knew wasn’t going to change.”

  “Your parents must be happy to have you back, since she’s gone.”

  We pull up to the resort I remember from last year, still as breathtaking as I recall it being.

  “My parents are excited that I’m not the little shit I was when I left. They’re happy I grew up and became a man. I was hell on wheels when I left here at eighteen. One of the reasons I decided to join – I desperately needed the structure it gave me.”

  We pull up to the valet, which cuts off our conversation. I learned more about him in the last few minutes that I have in the last few months of us hanging out. What we’ve shared before has been superficial, and I wonder if we haven’t done that as a defense mechanism with one another.

  We both get out of the truck and enter the lobby of the resort, heading to check into our rooms.

  “Anthony Bailey,” he says as we’re waited on next. “We’re with the Kepler wedding party.”

  We’d actually gotten a code to get rooms cheaper because Whitney is the shit. I barely listen to what’s going on until the person at the registration desk asks him if he wants two keycards for the room.

  “Wait, there should be two rooms.” I interject myself into the conversation. I’d promised to pay Anthony back if he got us two rooms.

  “There was a problem with the block they got. When we asked if we could double up two of the occupants, Mr. Kepler assured us that you were okay with getting rid of one of your reservations. Is there a problem?”

  “Fuckin’ Renegade.” I hear under Anthony’s breath. “No, it won’t be a problem, this will be fine.”

  I want to argue with him, tell him it won’t be fine, but I don’t have a credit card and there’s no way my debit card will let me rent a room in this place. I have cash at home that I was going to give him when we got back. But if I trust anyone, it’s Anthony.

  He turns to me, his jaw clenched, teeth working in a grinding motion. “I’m so sorry about this. He didn’t ask me, and I hate that he acted like it wasn’t a big deal. People think things about us because we spend so much time together.”

  “It’s okay.” I do my best to smile, even though I know it’s shaky. “I trust you, and I don’t want to be a problem. This is supposed to be about having fun, and that’s what we’ll do.”

  “Here’s your two keycards, Mr. Bailey. We hope you enjoy your stay here.”

  Our bags have miraculously appeared at our feet and Ace reaches over to grab both of them. “Well let’s go see what this room looks like.”

  * * *

  It’s got one bed. Granted it’s a king and it’s huge, but it’s got one bed. There is a couch, but it’s small.

  “I can take the couch,” he offers before I say anything.

  “No way, you’re too tall. Hell, I’m too tall. We’re adults.” I nod to convince myself I’m speaking the truth. “We can handle sharing a bed together in this paradise.”

  “Are you sure? I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

  His phone vibrates in his pocket, and he quickly takes it out, checking the message.

  “I’m sure, I trust you.”

  “That’s Renegade, he said they’re all downstairs having a drink. We’re the last ones to get here since I had to work today. Wanna go join them?”

  For the first time in a long time, I feel carefree. This is vacation, I’m here with people I like, why not enjoy it? “Yeah, let’s go. Can I just run a brush through my hair first? The drive down did a number on it.”

  His eyes soften as he looks at me. “Yeah, I need to put some different shoes on.” He points to his tennis shoes. “The bar is on the beach, and if you ask me, your hair looks gorgeous. Just like you.”

  I turn to face him, but he’s quickly taking his shoes off and putting on flip flops. I wonder if he meant to say what he did. A few hours, a few hundred miles from home, and lips seem to be looser than they’ve ever been between us.

  Looking into my bag, I grab my brush and go to work on the braid that’s completely fallen out. Since Brent has been gone, my hairstyles have been the poster children for fun, flirty, and even sexy if I do say so myself. Because I put it up when my hair was wet, it’s got a nice wave to it, and I decide to keep it like this.

  “I’m ready if you are, Anthony.”

  When our eyes meet across the bed, it’s an intimate look. One we’ve never shared, but I’ve wanted to. Enclosed space has apparently made me more aware of the man standing on the either side of the piece of furniture.

  “I’m good to go.” I watch him pick up his wallet, put it in his pocket, slip on the shoes he’s laid out, pick up his phone, and make sure he has a room keycard. It’s all so intimate, the things that a boyfriend and girlfriend or a married couple would share.

  It’s getting hot in here, and I know I have to get us out of the space. Feelings I’ve been able to keep in check for months are threatening to spill forth and make me very uncomfortable.

  “C’mon Anthony, I can’t wait to feel the sand between my toes.” It’s not a lie, but it’s also a way to get us out of the situation we’re in.

  And as I leave the room, waiting for him outside, I tell myself to calm down. I tell myself we’re friends; he only invited me to keep me from staying at home while everyone else was gone and having fun. There’s no way he could want a person as fucked up as I am. Not when I’m not even sure who I am anymore. Not sure I ever knew who the hell I was. But one thing is for sure, I will figure out who I am, or I’ll die trying.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Ace

  “No Anthony! Don’t you dare!” she screams as I pull her from the dry, sandy beach, toward the crashing waves on the shoreline.

  I try not to notice the way her tits shake in the cups of her bikini as we push and pull one another. Try not to notice the beaded nipple against the fabric. It wouldn’t take much for me to pull her into my arms and crush her against my chest.

  “C’mon, I’ll protect you.” I grin at her, grabbing hold of her hand and coaxing her to where the waves and beach meet.

  “I don’t know if I trust you, Ace.”

  I give her my best grin. “Violet, you trust the fuck outta me. It’s why we’re sharing a bed.”

  Her face blushes a pink shade that matches the skin peeking out from beneath the turquoise bikini she’s wearing. The very bikini that had made me do a double take when she’d walked out of our bathroom this morning. Even though she and I have been hanging out, it’s typically in sweatpants and t-shirts. What’s covering her body today isn’t leaving much to the imagination.

  “Stop teasing her.” Leighton throws sand in my direction.

  “Shit, that could have gone in my eye.” I turn my face away. “And nothing hurts worse than getting a fucking grain of sand in your eye. Not cool, Leigh,” I laugh, wiping my palm over my forehead.

  “Not cool the way you’re dragging her into the ocean.” Her point
is made with the bite of her tone.

  Looking at Violet, I take in that her face does look terrified and she is digging her heels in deeply. It causes me to drop her hand, makes me feel like a piece of shit. “If you don’t want to go, you don’t have to.”

  “Do you think I’ll like it?” she asks softly as she pushes back hair that’s escaped from her braid. The moment that asshole was locked up, this ultra-feminine side of Violet came out, and I fucking approve.

  “I think you’ll love it. There’s nothing more relaxing than just letting the waves take you where they will. It’s trusting them to move you in the right direction and not fighting against the current.”

  “Like finding my true north,” she says softly.

  “Yeah, exactly like that.”

  It doesn’t escape either of us, what I’m saying to her. Violet’s life has been spent fighting against the current, and here I am telling her to go with it. I can tell by the way her head tilts a little to the left. She’s wearing mirrored sunglasses and I wish I could see her face, but I’ll take the tilting of her head as an indication of what we’re sharing.

  Slowly we walk out into the water. I wait until she gets acquainted with the first few steps – shrieking when the waves crash into her and runs back – before she starts walking toward me again. Reaching out, I offer my hand to her this time, palm up. No more grabbing hold and pulling her into a place she’s not sure she wants to go.

  Gradually we make it out far enough that she’s up to her hips. She grabs hold of the waistband of my swim trunks, stopping me. “I think this is as far as I want to go.”

  “Then we won’t go any farther.” I turn her to face me. “How’s it feel?”

  “Weird, I can’t see the bottom, can’t see my feet, so I’m unsure of what I’m stepping on. But it’s peaceful, the way it’s wrapping around our bodies.”