by Casey Hagen
And there was Hank…
Exhaustion tugged at her. Her eyelids drooped, and the steady beat of Isaac’s heart in her ear pulled her into a deep slumber.
Her eyes shot open. She reached for him, but her palm landed on a cool, wrinkled sheet. She sat up and glanced around, the clock on the nightstand reading just after nine.
He had to have an appointment and probably didn’t want to wake her. She took it as a good sign that he left her there sleeping. A sign of trust. Swinging her feet around the side of the bed, the sheet slid away from her breasts, and a chill shot through her. She snagged a throw blanket she found at the foot of the bed, wrapped it around her, and went looking for Hank.
Stepping into the hall, she followed the glow of daylight spilling in through the glass doors. The closer she got, the stronger the scent of fresh coffee became.
A definite keeper.
Pulling the blanket tighter, she turned the corner and skidded to a halt.
Isaac stood there in his jeans from the night before riding low on his lean hips. A sleek blond with a bob stood facing him, looking like the adult version of a southern debutante homecoming queen.
She smiled and laid her hands over the ones he had wrapped around his mug. She drew his coffee cup to her lips and took a sip, watching him the entire time, their hands joined in an intimate way that belied years of familiarity.
History.
Amy.
Grazi cleared her throat.
Isaac jumped.
Amy’s eyes narrowed, and her smile grew.
She knew Grazi was there. She knew just what she was doing.
And Grazi was too damned grown up to play childish, middle-school games.
“Am I interrupting?” Grazi asked.
“No,” Isaac said.
“Yes,” Amy said at the same time.
Grazi stepped up to the coffee maker and grabbed a mug. She nodded at them as she slid the carafe from the machine. “Why don’t you let me know once you figure it out?” she said, pouring a hot cup.
“If you don’t mind, my husband and I have a few things to discuss.”
“Ex-husband,” Isaac said, frowning down at the spiteful, little witch.
“A technicality,” Amy said with a wave of her hand.
“Isaac?” Grazi asked, leaning against wall between the kitchen and hall.
“Could you just give us a minute?” Isaac asked Grazi.
Well, it’s good I found out now, right?
“Take all the time you need,” she said quietly. No way in hell would she collect her scattered clothes with her hair standing on end, and complete with morning breath, while having to scurry around the evil and uppity Tinker Bell knockoff.
Instead, she made her way back to Isaac’s room and searched his drawers for something she could use suitable for the walk of shame five houses down.
She found a pair of gray sweats with the University of California running along the leg and a matching shirt.
Pulling on the pants, she rolled the waist band down and hiked them up enough to keep them from dragging on the ground. She yanked the shirt over her head and slid her feet into a pair of flip-flops about four sizes too big and made her way to the front door through the formal dining room.
She wasn’t running. Not at all.
Isaac had to decide what he wanted.
He needed to put his foot down with his ex, or they didn’t have a future.
With her shoulders back, her chin high, she opened the front door and headed for her brother’s house.
One house away from refuge, she realized she forgot her dog.
Shit.
Two hours later, Isaac finally knocked on her door.
Nervous energy spiked through her, and the coffee soured in her stomach, threatening to revolt altogether.
Taking a deep breath and armed with her own clothes, she opened the door.
Hank leapt into the living room the minute the door opened far enough, and Isaac let him go.
“Thank you for bringing him back,” she said, not knowing what to say or what to do. She didn’t want to ask how it went.
And with the doubt spinning inside her, and the sensation of being on the outside looking in, she was pretty sure she didn’t want to know.
“I’m sorry for this morning. She has a bad habit of showing up at the worst times.”
“Maybe it’s time you do something about that,” Grazi said, fighting the urge to cross her arms.
He shoved a frustrated hand through his hair. “Sometimes she gets in over her head with the practice and needs advice.”
“The practice she stole from you? That practice?”
His eyes turned stormy. “I still care about my patients there, Graziella,” he said quietly.
“And she made sure they don’t care about you.”
He glanced down the street before turning back to her. “Look, I have a few appointments. Will you be around later so we can talk?”
She shrugged. “I’ll be here.”
“Okay, I’ll, uh, I guess I’ll see you then,” he said, taking a step back.
He made no effort to touch her. The air that sizzled between them last night, now laden with uneasiness, cut her to the core.
He headed for his car with a casual wave but didn’t bother looking back at her.
Everything inside her screamed that she’d bet she just saw Isaac for the last time. Her heart curled in on itself, leaving her empty and, frankly, mad as hell with nowhere to direct the heartbreak.
With nothing to do, she focused on cleaning. Her brother would be home soon, and she had every intention of leaving the house as neat as a pin when she headed back to Georgia.
By four, she had begun checking the clock every ten minutes or so.
By five, she had started making the rounds to peek out the front window.
By six, she abandoned cleaning and sat at the dining table drumming her fingers on the wood while bouncing the leg she’d crossed over her knee.
Three days later, Isaac still hadn’t showed.
Grazi hugged her brother and Kate the minute they arrived. Making excuses as to why she needed to get right back, she took Hank for one last walk, in the opposite direction of Isaac’s house, before loading up her Jeep and heading for San Jose.
Isaac fucked up.
Majorly fucked up.
He’d known it even before Sebastian showed up on his doorstep with steam flying out his ears a full week after Amy had shown up and dropped a torpedo on his budding relationship with Graziella.
Sebastian pounded his fists on the door. “Isaac? You better open up, dammit, or I’m going to—”
Isaac opened the door and stepped back, letting him in.
Sebastian shot a hot glare at him, much like the glare he’d seen on Graziella.
Nice twist. As if he wasn’t turned inside out enough, he could add the sting of a dude reminding him of one of the hundreds of things he missed about the woman he loved and how he had botched the whole damn thing.
Isaac left the door open and headed for the kitchen…and his open beer. “You can’t say anything to me that I haven’t already said to myself.”
Sebastian slammed the door and followed him into the kitchen. “Really? How about I’m going to kick your ass?”
“Nope. I’ve already threatened myself a few times over with a good ass-kicking,” Isaac said, handing a beer to Sebastian. “She told you what happened then?” Isaac asked, taking a gulp of the bitter brew.
Sebastian frowned at the beer but twisted off the top anyway and flicked it into the garbage can. “No. I mean, I knew something was wrong. She made sure to hightail it out of our house within an hour of us getting home.”
The ache in his gut twisted painfully. “Ouch.”
“Yeah. Imagine my shock to find out that it had something to do with you,” Sebastian said, frowning at him.
Isaac scratched the scruff on his jaw. “How did you find out?”
“Mrs. Forand was
all too happy to fill me in on the gossip. The training, kissing, and my personal favorite, the moans coming from your pool.” Sebastian pointed the mouth of the long neck bottle at Isaac. “By the way, you owe me a lifetime supply of beer for having to hear about that.”
He gulped down a healthy sip and sucked the bubbles from his upper lip. “Understood.”
“You love her?” Sebastian asked.
Isaac stared down into the bottle. Maybe if he kept drinking, he’d find his dignity in there somewhere. “Yeah. I know it’s quick…”
“I loved Kate in a day, man. You’ve got nothing on that,” Sebastian said.
“No, I guess not,” Isaac conceded.
“And she loves you?” Sebastian asked.
“Don’t know. She never said.” And that was the worst part. He’d never had a chance to ask her, to see if they could have made something between them work.
“Did you handle your business with Amy once and for all?” Sebastian asked.
Isaac propped himself against the counter and crossed his ankles. “Yes. There were some legalities I had to deal with. I thought I could get them done quick and have them as proof to Graziella that I was ready to move on. It was stupid of me to not come back and talk to her. To think I needed them in my hands to convince her.”
Sebastian clapped a hand on Isaac’s shoulder and shook his head at him. “Listen, I feel for you. And I’m about to do something here that’s going to put my ass on the line with Kate so you better not blow it for me or else I’ll have no choice but to drown you in the very pool that you nailed my sister in. Got it?”
Isaac straightened. Hope bloomed in his gut. “What is it?”
Sebastian slid a slip of paper from his pocket. “It’s Grazi’s new address here in Tallulah Cove.”
Isaac shot away from the counter and snatched at the paper.
Sebastian yanked it from his reach before he could get a hold of it. “One thing…she’s not a permanent resident yet. She’s got some loose ends to tie up for her retirement so she will be heading back to Georgia for a bit.”
“When?”
“She leaves in an hour.” Sebastian handed him the slip. “Don’t fuck it up,” he warned.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Changes
GRAZI CARRIED THE LAST BOX for her bedroom from the dining room, setting it along the wall in the master. She hated leaving the condo unfinished, but the Army had agreed to do her the massive favor of fast-tracking her retirement as long as she gave them two more weeks of her expertise in planning a sensitive mission.
She’d do just about anything they asked to get out of there.
The minute she returned to Georgia, she knew what she needed to do. The places, the people, the Army—they didn’t fit anymore.
Despite how much she ached for Isaac and wished he hadn’t botched their budding relationship, Tallulah Cove had gotten under her skin and in two short weeks became home.
She focused on the move and kept herself so busy, she had no time to agonize over Isaac during the day.
At night…well, she lay in bed, tears rolling down her temples and soaking into her pillow, the ache a persistent throb with nothing else to focus on.
She hoped and prayed that he didn’t get back with that sack of rat piss he’d divorced. Even if she couldn’t have him, he deserved better than the manipulative twit.
Tears welled in her eyes, and she hurried to brush them away at the sound of the doorbell.
If she opened the door to find her brother standing there for the fifth time, she might just tear her hair out. She swung open the door, ready to give him hell. “If you keep showing up, you keep reminding me—”
The air whooshed from her lungs, and the blood drained from her face.
Isaac stood at her door, panting and out of breath.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” Grazi asked.
“Ran,” he gasped.
She glanced around the parking lot but didn’t see his car. “Why?”
“Car, ditch,” he said, struggling for air.
“Jesus, you sound like you need an ambulance.” As much as he’d hurt her, she didn’t want him dead.
“No,” he said, holding up a finger.
The minute he was done having a heart attack in her doorway, she had a finger for him.
He pressed his hand against his chest, the gasps slowing. “Here,” he said with a rough breath, handing her a stack of papers.
“What are these?”
“The reason I didn’t show up,” he said in a rough whisper.
“I don’t understand,” she said, scanning the documents. They looked like deeds, but she still didn’t understand what they had to do with her.
“My name was still on the practice in San Jose. Amy uses it as an excuse to pop in and out of my life whenever she wants. I had my name taken off.”
“I thought she had already taken the business from you,” she said.
“She’d taken my patients and my reputation. I was still fighting for my half of the value,” he said, bracing his hands on the doorframe.
Her heart softened. She tried to ignore it. “Oh.”
“I didn’t mean to hurt you. I wanted to bring these back to you and prove that I was done with her, in black and white, no question,” he said, his eyes softening, pleading with her to understand.
“If you’re still fighting to get your money out of it, how did you plan to do that?”
He smiled. “I signed it over.”
“You what?”
He laughed. “I gave it to her free and clear.”
She pinched the bridge of her nose. This was too much. He did this for her, and it was way too much. “How much did you lose?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“Oh, it matters,” she scoffed.
“Seven hundred thousand.”
She slumped against the door. “You’ve lost your damn mind.”
He grazed her cheek with his knuckles, the gesture heartbreakingly familiar. “No, I found it. I found what I’ve been looking for all this time. Signing it over didn’t hurt. I didn’t care.”
“And what have you been looking for?” she whispered.
He stepped into the doorway, his hand interlocking with hers between them. “You.”
She grinned. “You know, this doesn’t mean that she’ll leave you alone.”
“Oh, she will,” he said.
“What makes you so sure?”
“She had to agree to the terms in a standard restraining order. If she breaks them, the practice defaults back to me, and she has nothing.”
“That’s terrifyingly brilliant.”
He ducked his head and pressed his forehead to hers. “And it means nothing if I’ve lost you. Tell me I haven’t.”
She cupped his face in her hands as the pieces of her heart floating in her chest rearranged themselves. Like her brother’s backyard, the stitches holding the cracks together were ugly, but they would mend. “There is no limit to your generosity. You amaze me,” she said, searching his eyes. “I love you, Isaac,” she whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to his warm, pliant lips.
“Thank God,” he whispered, crushing her in his arms, his lips roaming over her temple.
He met her gaze, his eyes glossy with unshed emotion. “Never again. I promise you, I’ll never screw things up like that again. I love you, Chief.”
And although she stood on the precipice of shedding the Army altogether, telling her he loved her and calling her chief was about the sweetest sound in the world.
ABOUT CASEY HAGEN
Casey Hagen pens her snarky, passionate stories from the salty air of Kennebunk, Maine. She’s a born and raised Vermont native, a New England girl to the core, with Ben & Jerry’s in her heart and real Vermont maple syrup pumping through her veins.
She’s the proud mother of three girls and a new, first-time grandma with an insatiable addiction to Fall Out Boy, and a new, rather concerning obsession with tattoos and piercings.
Can you say “cool grandma?”
The inked and pierced grandma spends her time tucked away in her office, coated in cat hair, alternating between tearing her hair out trying to find the perfect words and being one step ahead of her three scheming fur babies she is positive are plotting her demise with every swirl around her ankles at the top of her office stairs.
She loves writing stories about real people, with complicated histories, relatable everyday problems, and giving them the hard-won happily-ever-afters they deserve.
And she thanks every last one of you who picks up one of her stories.
Casey is done talking about herself in the third person.
*Casey out*
Find the Tallula Cove Series here:
Tallulah Cove
The Novellas in Order!
Tallulah Heartbeat
Tallulah Nights
Tallulah Trouble
Tallulah Bargain
Tallulah Speed
Tallulah Homecoming
Tallulah Crush
You can find me online at
www.CaseyHagenAuthor.com
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