Violet Ugly: A Contemporary Romance Novel (The Granite Harbor Series Book 2)

by J. Lynn Bailey

  I see Eli’s truck as I step out of mine.

  “I see the uniform still fits.” Eli smirks.

  He walks over to my truck as I gather my tools from the cab.

  A knot in my stomach has been building since Merit left. I haven’t been able to eat or sleep much for that matter.

  Does he know about Destiny? No doubt he doesn’t know, or he’d have tried to kick my ass already.

  “Merit make it back all right?” I ask, trying to act casual.

  I’ve wanted to text Merit several times. Call her. But I know it’s space she needs. I’ll give it to her for as long as she needs it. Even if it means forever.

  “Yeah. Made it back yesterday. What’s going on with Dubbs?” He changes the subject.

  I shrug as I put my tripod on my good shoulder, my ribs letting me know they’re still there with a slow, dull ache. “Hasn’t been home in a week. Not like him though. Did Mer tell you about Ronan Fields?”

  He nods his head. “Mentioned it. Why does that name sound so familiar?”

  “I know. I said the same thing. He’s got a laundry list full of drug charges. Some felonies. Some prison time.”

  We get to the overturned ATV.

  “How old is the driver?” I ask Eli as I set down my stuff.

  “Twenty-four. Blood test confirmed his blood alcohol level was .31 Touch and go at Maine Medical Center.”

  I set up my stuff to re-create the scene.

  “Is it good to be back?” Eli crosses his arms, standing across the trail.

  “Yeah. Feels good.” Anything to distract me from Merit and her scent that I’ll leave on my sheets for as long as I can. I’m reminded of the ball of knots in my stomach as it growls. “How are Alex and Emily?”

  My chest tightens when I say Emily’s name. Destiny would have been almost seventeen years old.

  “Good. Alex just finished another novel. Got to go meet with some book publisher in New York City.”

  I hate cities. I hate lots of people. That’s probably why I live here. More power to Alex.

  “I’ll probably go with her. Have Pop and Meredith watch Emily.” He pauses. “You all right, bro? You seem off.”

  No, I’m not all right.

  “All good.”

  But, really, I can’t talk about Merit with him. I can’t say that I’m in love with her and that she’s left for the last time. That she’s all I fucking think about.

  Eli nods. “All right. Well, I’ll let you get to it, asshole.”

  I smile. “Later.”

  It feels good to be back in the warden truck. It feels good to wear the uniform again. It’s what I know. It’s what I’ve done for my entire professional career.

  My phone sounds.

  It’s a text from Sadie.

  Fuck. What the hell does she want?

  Sadie: Heard Merit left. I’m available and at your service, Warden Taylor. I’ll have on your favorite pink nightie tonight if you want to show up at my house.

  Sadie’s the type of woman I need to be clear with. She’s also the type of woman who can go all night long, which would take away the itch I’ve been feeling since Merit left. But, since she left, there’s no fucking way I’d be able to walk away from Sadie’s and feel all right about fucking her. Because that’s all it would be. Sex.

  Me: No, thanks.

  I set my phone down and get to work on the scene.

  I pull into Granite Harbor and head to Dubbs’s place. It’s after four, so the tourists are tucked in nicely to their cottages or inns or have left town completely.

  I park on the side of the house under the evergreen where needles used to drag across my window as a kid. One day, when I decided I’d had enough, I went out and took a saw to the branch that billowed just over my window. Cut the fucker down.

  My key dangles at the doorway as I push it open. “Dubbs?” I call out just in case he decided to come home.

  If he had a choice. If he wasn’t taken.

  I walk through the entire house, passing the pantry closet where I wanted to make love to Merit. Whisper my name in her ear. Tell her how good she felt against me.

  But the house is still. Quiet. There’s no one here, and the house clearly hasn’t been touched in a while.

  As I go to leave though, something catches my eye. In the corner of the living room, behind the front door, I see Dubbs’s pocketknife. Something he never leaves behind. Not in a million years. He’d leave me behind before he left his pocketknife.

  Examining the pocketknife in its current position, I don’t touch it. I inspect the way it’s sitting, in the way it was most likely placed, slid, or thrown there. It’s open and stuck between the baseboard and the cheap laminate floor, which tells me there was force involved in getting it from point A to point B.

  There was a struggle. Dubbs isn’t on a fishing trip. There’s something totally fucked up going on here.

  I need to find the address for Ronan Fields. I’m sure I can find something on him to pay him a visit.

  It’s after five thirty when I set my keys down on the counter. I pour myself a shot of whiskey and sit down at the kitchen counter.

  There’s a knock at the door, which is odd. Nobody ever comes to Hallowell unless it’s Eli.

  God. Merit?

  I run to the door, trying not to look too eager when I pull it open.

  “Are you”—the guy whose delivery truck says Great Option Deliveries looks down at a sheet of paper—“Ryan Taylor?”

  “Uh, yeah.”

  He walks back to his truck and pulls out a crate. He walks back to my front door. “This is for you. Just sign here.”

  “Wait, I didn’t order anything.”

  “Here’s the note the buyer wanted you to have.” He hands me the note with the crate.

  The delivery guy, a young kid, is clearly in a hurry because he drives away like NASCAR might be in his near future.

  A whine comes from the crate. With big black eyes and two floppy ears, a German shepherd puppy stares back.

  “What the fuck?”

  The puppy in the crate cries, tilting his head to one side.

  I set the crate down and let him out, and he immediately attacks my face with his tongue.

  A smile tugs at the sides of my mouth. “What in the hell?” I say to myself as I open the note.

  Dear Ryan,

  I didn’t intend to get you a puppy. But, when I saw the ad … the couple getting rid of him had named him Hero. I couldn’t not call the number. I met the little guy and the couple who had him. I asked them why they’d named him Hero because I knew you’d be curious, too. They said he had come with the name. They explained that they had to move out of state and that they couldn’t keep him.

  I know how you feel about dogs, Ryan, so spare me the bullshit lines. You need Hero, and he needs you. It’s about time you start loving again. Besides, it will give you something to do.

  Merit

  My chest aches at Merit’s words. I let my hand fall, the note still in my grasp. I watch the little fluffball chase a bug in the front yard. It’s been a long time since I had something to care for.

  I run my hand over Merit’s name, knowing this is where she touched as she signed the note. My stomach growls, and I know I need to eat, but I don’t feel the least inclined to do so. Hero runs toward me and barrels into my feet. Then, he barks, as if the shoe is the culprit for his fall.

  I pick him up, and he begins to lick my face.

  “You like bad guys, Hero?”

  He tilts his head to the side, both ears folding over.

  “Me neither,” I say. “We’ll make a K9 out of you yet.” I push his head down under my chin and feel his fur against my neck.

  I set the crate inside but not before taking Hero back outside to see if he needs to do his business. Inside the crate are puppy food and a check from Merit, labeled veterinarian services.

  I laugh. She knows better. I rip up her check, knowing why she wrote it. She didn’t want me to bear
the costs of a puppy when it was her decision that I needed one. I set out a bowl and fill it with some food, and then I get him some water.

  Watching him wolf down his food, I think he might just have a place here, but I know Merit already knew that.

  Twenty-Six

  Merit

  Monterey, California

  Present Day

  “It’s good to have you back, Merit,” Abbey says from the front of my desk. She’s just walked in.

  I smile. “It’s good to see you’re on time.”

  She rolls her eyes. “Someone needed to be responsible after you left. Besides, Eddie would have noticed.” She sets her bag on her chair.

  “The apartment looked good, too.”

  She shrugs. “I missed you. It’s not the same order when you’re not around. There’s a big black hole.”

  I stop typing the email to Ryan. I just want to know how Hero is doing.

  Strictly platonic. Just a brief message.

  I’ve been back for three days. Maine seems like a dream, a distant memory that has become a composition of my current favorite life moments and a few of my not-so-good life moments. I close the email.

  “What did I miss?” I cross my arms in front of my computer and lean forward.

  “I’m totally done with men.”

  My eyebrow pulls up.

  Abbey’s eyes meet mine. “No, I’m serious. Totally done.”

  “What happened?”

  She fidgets with her fingers and pretends it’s not a big deal, but I can tell by her face that it is a big deal.

  “I met the one.”

  “Where’d you meet him?”

  “Organic One actually. I was shopping for anything that doesn’t walk on two or four legs, and he was standing between the mushrooms and the broccoli, contemplating the price.”

  I listen.

  “Get this: he was raised Mormon, too.”

  “It’s fate,” I say sarcastically and force a laugh. One I don’t feel in my heart.

  Abbey does, too. “He’s thirty-five. Runs an internet business. Works from home.”

  I deadpan. “An internet business? You know that’s vague, right? It could be anything, Abbs. Porn. Illegal drugs. A scammer.”

  I feel as though I’ve let down my friend. Clearly, she needs me to be the sounding board for good decision-making.

  “Actually, it’s a food company.”

  “A food company.”

  “Yeah, come here.”

  I walk to her desk as she pulls up his website. “Seven Days a Week, it’s called. They prepare meals with recipes and then ship them all over the United States. You can order single meals or meals for your whole family.”

  We both scan through the site.

  I don’t see any mention of prostitution, porn, or illegal drugs.

  “When did you meet?” I ask.

  “The day after you left. Without you to cook, I needed to adult and go buy some ingredients for recipes I didn’t know I’d make.”

  “Wait. You went to the store without knowing what recipes you’d make? Abbey, it’s the opposite. You look up recipes and then go to the store to buy the ingredients.”

  “See? This is why I need you.”

  Part of me knows she’s kidding. Though her mom did most of the cooking when she was growing up, I know Abbey did manage to make a few things.

  “If I had done all the research and looked up the recipes first, I’d have missed my chance to meet Ruben.”

  I slide onto the desk, facing Abbey. “Ruben, the was-Mormon, huh?”

  She laughs as she clicks around the website. “Look. Here’s a picture.”

  He’s your typical all-American guy with blond hair and blue eyes.

  “Handsome. But how do you know he’s the one?”

  She sighs. “Remember that time you caught me eating your entire birthday cake out of its container when we first moved in together? It was the middle of the night.” Abbey never forgets anything. Ever.

  “No.”

  Her shoulders drop. “Oh. Well, anyway, he was doing the exact same thing one night when I caught him.”

  “Abbs, I hate to say this, but that doesn’t constitute fate or forever.”

  She shakes her head. “No, it’s what he said.” She’s quiet, almost embarrassed or shy. “Do you remember what I said?”

  “I have no idea, Abbey. It was midnight, and all I heard that brought me from my slumber was the sound of someone rifling through the fridge—or burning down our apartment.”

  Abbey clears her throat. “I said, ‘Cake is my weakness. Take it or leave it.’”

  I stare at her, waiting for further explanation.

  “That’s it. Sealed the deal.”

  “But, Abbey, you’re deciding your fate based on a few bites of cake? We’re talking about the rest of your life here.”

  Abbey pulls her hands from the keyboard. She’s methodical when she chooses her words. Thoughtful. “Mer, it wasn’t the cake. It was my heart. Sometimes, the heart knows what the head doesn’t. Sometimes, my head doesn’t allow me to follow what my heart is saying.”

  For some reason, her words, this time, they cause a burning sensation in my stomach, and they make my heart pick up pace.

  “Why’d you come back?” Abbey asks, knowing full well her question is loaded.

  “What do you mean?” I cough to clear my throat, not ready to answer her question.

  “Why’d you come back to Monterey, Merit?” she asks again. Louder, as if I couldn’t hear her the first time she asked the question, though I think she’s just being sarcastic.

  “Ryan was healed. He was released to go back to work.” I shrug, trying to be diplomatic, fact-driven. I think that’s why I appreciate science so much. There’s usually a right answer.

  Abbey laughs. “Liar.”

  “What?” I stand.

  “You came back because you weren’t ready to face your past with Ryan.”

  “You don’t know everything about us, Abbey.”

  “I know enough to know true love when I effing see it. I know you enough to know that you’re in love with Ryan, and that’s why you haven’t been able to find a guy out here since college.” She leans back in her chair, crossing her arms, staring back at me.

  I don’t know what to say to that. My mind spins. My eyes burn.

  “Sometimes,” she whispers after a long silence between us, “it’s destiny that brings people together.”

  Fuck.

  It’s the mention of her name that tells me I am supposed to hear what Abbey is offering. It’s like subsequent events that fall into line in a matter of seconds that have actually been in the making for the past seventeen years. Some things that I don’t want to hear.

  Moment one: I was supposed to experience heartbreak.

  Moment two: I was supposed to come to California pregnant.

  Moment three: Abbey was supposed to be my lab partner in our general biology class.

  Moment four: I was supposed to leave for Granite Harbor each time I was called.

  Moment five: I was supposed to hear the exact sentence spoken at this exact time from the person I needed to hear it from.

  Moment six: I am supposed to make the realization that Ryan is my destiny.

  Moment seven: I am supposed to realize that I need to heal before I return.

  My eyes start to burn in meeting each of these moments.

  “Hey, you all right?”

  I don’t know, Abbey, I want to say. I don’t know because the rug has been ripped out from beneath me. I’m unstable and unsteady, and I have nowhere to land.

  Yes. Yes, you do know, Merit. Move on. Just like you’ve always done.

  “Yeah.”

  Abbey laughs. “Mer, I’ve known you a long time. You’re five shades of white right now, and you look like death.”

  “I do not.” I reach up and touch my face.

  “Have you slept since you’ve been home, Mer?”

  I have to think
about it.

  “And who were you about to send the email to?” Abbey smirks.

  “No one.”

  “Liar.”

  Damn it.

  “How’d you know?”

  Abbey rolls her eyes. “I’m a trained researcher. These things come easy to me. Why are you sending the email?”

  “Because I bought a dog for Ryan,” I confess.

  “Why?”

  “Because he lost his.”

  “Why?”

  “Why what?” I’m getting pissed.

  “You’re right; I didn’t plan that question out. Look, you’re not sending the email because he lost his dog. You’re sending the email because you care about him. And”—she shrugs—“if I’m being real honest, you’re still in love with him.”

  Grab at a straw, Merit. Grab at something to pull you out of this.

  Why do I pick these people to be friends with?

  “Things happen, Abbey, that have separated us. People make decisions. Say hurtful things. It’s not that easy.”

  “Until you can get past all the stuff, you won’t be able to move forward, Mer. Trust me. That’s why life with other guys you’ve dated didn’t work out. That’s why, on Friday nights, you hang out with Ethel and Lucy. That’s why you haven’t been able to get past whatever happened between you and him. It’s keeping you in the exact same spot as you were when all this shit went down.”

  Truth. It hurts. And festers in my gut like a wound that won’t stay closed, busting open at the smallest touch.

  This is coming from a Mormon whose mom is overbearing. Whose dad left her mom for another woman. Who can’t seem to find what she’s looking for.

  Maybe talking about what happened might change the feeling in my chest. I haven’t told a single soul aside from Ryan just recently. I trust Abbey. But I’ll wait because I hear Eddie making his way down the hallway.

  Then, his head pops in. “Gotta say, Merit, it’s good to have you back. Really made Abbey step up, tell you that much.” He side-eyes Abbey as he walks to the copier.

  I missed him with his shaggy silvery-white hair and board shorts, the sound of his flip-flops echoing off the stone cement flooring down the long massive hallways of the aquarium. I missed his not-in-a-rush, carefree demeanor. His advice.