“The prospect of going back to Birmingham and living my life without you when you’ve been so deeply engrained in everything I’ve done for the past few months. I kept telling myself I could handle it.” He finally gets to me, cupping my cheek in the palm of his hand. “But I don’t think I can. I don’t want to face a season of uncertainty without you. I don’t know how my knee is going to hold up for sure.”
“It’s going to be amazing,” I interrupt him, and I say those words because I believe them more than I’ve ever believed anything else.
“Thanks for the confidence, sweetness, but that’s what I’m talking about. I need the positive influence, I need you there if things go to shit, I need you to celebrate the good times. Bottom line is I just need you, Malone. I can’t imagine my life without you.”
He stops, takes a breath, and I use that moment to ask what’s been bothering me. Maybe I shouldn’t, but this had been our problem before, and I don’t want it to be our problem again.
“What about me? What do I do when you’re playing your ass off?”
His eyes twinkle in the muted light. “You take control of my charity, you do your PR thing that you’re so damn good at. I trust you implicitly.”
“Even when you probably shouldn’t because I broke your heart before? Because I didn’t know what I wanted? Didn’t know how I could live supporting you without wanting something for me in the process?”
“Even so-” he bites his lip “-there’s room in our lives for both me and you to work. We can make this work.”
“Can we?”
“Baby, we can.” His voice is strong, sure, and I almost believe him, but there’s something holding me back.
Savage
I can see she’s weakening, can tell she’s close to letting go of the fear she’s always felt, that she would lose herself if she became my wife. I get it now, and I hope that I’ve presented it in a way that will encourage her to say yes. I’m not sure how I’ll handle it if she says no.
“I’m not promising you perfect, and I’m not promising you easy. I did that last time, and I realize how stupid that was of me. How unrealistic it was. Perfect and easy aren’t love. Love is being with someone when they’re at their weakest. It’s helping them up when they’re down, being their strength when they have none. You’re that and so much more for me. I want to be that for you.” I carefully get down on my knee, showing her that I can.
“Without your support, I wouldn’t be doing this right now. You and I both know this is true.” She grins at me.
Reaching into my jeans pocket, I grab out the ring I designed for her a few weeks ago, when I decided I wanted to do this. Carefully I lift it up to her, present her with everything I’ve ever wanted to give her, and pray to God she says yes. “I had this made for you a few weeks ago. The smaller stone to the side, is the one from your original ring. The bigger stone is brand new. It was important for me to include our past and present to deal with our future. All of it has brought us here to this moment, it’s made us who we are right now. I love us, and while I know we have work to do, I know if we do it together, nothing is gonna break us apart. Malone Fulcher, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife? Will you do life with me?”
For long minutes, I wait for her answer. As I keep waiting, I get a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. When she opens her mouth, it’s almost like I know she’s going to say no.
“I need a minute to think.”
And with those words, my world comes crashing down for a second time, thanks to one woman. I don’t pay any attention to her request for time to think, all I hear is this isn’t a good idea, and it makes me feel dead inside.
“You don’t think it’s a good idea?” I parrot the remark, feeling a coldness in my body that’s never going to go away. “Twice you’ve done this to me.”
“Slade, wait, let me explain.” She grabs hold of my jacket and I throw her off. I can hear the tears, but I harden my heart against them.
“Twice I’ve tried to give you the world.”
“Your world, without a clear plan of how I fit into it,” she argues, but I put my hand over her mouth.
“No, no explanations this time. I can only be a dumbass twice for you. The hesitation was all I needed.”
Even though I drove her, I don’t give a shit about how she gets back. She can drive my old truck with no heat or air and hundreds of thousands of miles on it. I walk over to my SUV, get in, and throw dirt as I drive away.
“Slade, stop!” she screams, but I keep going, because I won’t be made a fool of again.
For the second time in ten years, I leave Willow’s Gap in the inky blackness of the night and don’t look back. The sheer amount of messages she’s left on my phone do nothing to change my mind. In fact, I delete them before I read or listen to them.
The only thing waiting for me is an empty penthouse and a long stretch of highway. Maybe that’s the way it’s gonna be for the rest of my life…
Malone
Kneeling in this field, tears streaming down my face, I can only think of the day at the ballpark. When he promised.
“I don’t want it to end badly,” I whisper standing on my tiptoes, pressing my lips to his, loving the way he tastes, soaking up his affection. “Promise me you’ll give me a chance in the end, if I freeze, promise me you’ll give me a chance.”
“Why would you freeze?” He looks like he can’t understand why I ever would, and I guess he wouldn’t. He’s never had to live in the shadow he’s created.
“Because I’ve never thought I was good enough for you, and it would kill me if others thought I was with you because of what you might be able to give me. With you I have to think things through, I have to know I won’t be sliding by on just my looks and your money.”
His fist tightens in my hair. “You’re one of the smartest people I know, and if other people can’t see that, then fuck them.”
“Fuck them?” I grin.
“Fuck. Them. I promise, I won’t let you freeze.”
But here I am, answering his question with a whispered yes, crying my eyes out in a field, after he’s just broken the one promise I’ve ever asked him to make.
In the end, I froze. But he lied. The only question I have is what am I going to do about it? Am I going to let this ruin me? Ruin us? I sob, sob my heart out for what feels like hours, then I open my phone, looking for the first flight to Birmingham, because I’ll be damned if I let this happen again.
Flight booked, I call the one person in town I know will have my back.
“Cherry? I need a ride to the airport. It’s an emergency…”
I square my shoulders, hop in Slade’s truck, and vow to myself I’ll change our destiny this time. That’s possible. Right?
MVP
Savage & Malone’s story concludes in MVP!
Get it here!
Author’s Note
Thank you so much for reading “On the DL”! If this was your first book mine, I would love it if you would look the others up. The Heaven Hill Series and Moonshine Task Force are reader favorites!
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Also, if you do leave a review, please email me with the link so that I can say a personal ‘thank you’!!! They mean a lot, and I want to let you know I appreciate you taking the time out of your day!
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Also By Laramie
Hurricane
Tatum
I jerk my head upright as the roar of a motorcycle breaks through the otherwise peaceful Bowling Green, Kentucky morning. The book on my phone’s reading app is forgotten as I put a hand to my chest and cut my gaze directly across from Cash’s Customs, the body shop specializing in foreign makes and models I work at. Walker’s Wheels, which specializes in domestic vehicles and motorcycles, is my dad’s shop, and the man leaving the parking lot is the one who pissed me off a year ago. In all honesty, he’s still pissing me off. I glare at his leather-jacket covered back as he rides down the street. Pissed off because he ruined my concentration, I try not to think about how the guttural sound of the engine mimics the way he moaned when he came. Remembering our interlude in the garage of the Heaven Hill Clubhouse does nothing but make me angry – angry that things aren’t different than they are right now.
“It’s been a year Tatum, you ever gonna talk to him again?”
My eyes roll by themselves as I shift my weight to one hip. Leaning back against the counter with my other, I shoot a glare at my boss. Cash Montgomery has been fair to me, but this question? Makes me purse my lips and roll my eyes heavenward, letting out a huge sigh to go along with it.
“You think I should just because he’s your brother?”
He shakes his head, running a hand over his scruffy jaw. “I’m just a guy who knows that guys screw up, and I’m wondering if maybe you aren’t overreacting.”
“Overreacting?” I spit the word out like it’s on fire. “You have no idea what went down with us last January. Boss, friend, and his brother, or not, you should probably shut the fuck up.”
It was still embarrassing, the way we’d treated each other. I almost wish he’d left me on the side of the road. For weeks after, I’d cried, trying to figure out where the fuck we’d messed up. How had we gone from this crazy attraction that suffocated a room when we were in it together to me having sex with another guy? I know that part was my fault, and I feel guilty. I wish I could take it back. That part of my personality is a bitch – ya know the one where I have to hurt anyone who hurts me worse? Truthfully, I think I learned my lesson this time.
The words Remy spoke to me still ring in my ears. Are you proud of yourself? Even today, they cause goosebumps on my arms, and I rub my hands up and down the flesh to warm it. I hate the way we left things; I would change it if I could. But I can’t be hurt again by him, and I don’t think I can stand to hurt him, either. No matter how much I’ve had to harden my heart to him, I know it’s the right thing to do. We can’t seem to be mature around each other – we get stupid. Not speaking to him is my way to keep my head about me. I know the minute I give in, it’ll be like it always was with us. He’ll give me that sexy smirk he doesn’t give anyone else, be his quiet, brooding self, and I’ll be doe-eyed again, wanting to know all the secrets he keeps. Nobody knows how difficult this has been for me. We were good friends. I want to talk to him, I want his opinion on things, and I sure as fuck don’t want to have to avoid him at every club get together. We were building something, even if others didn’t know it, even if I was the only one willing to put my heart out there. Remington Sawyer has always been a loner – quiet, closed off, and happy to spend time on his own. I wanted to change that, be the person he could be his true self with, but we never got the chance.
“I’m gonna take lunch if that’s okay with you.”
Cash gives me a grin, and for a moment I’m reminded hardcore of Remy. In looks, they don’t favor each other, having different fathers. In mannerisms and smiles, they could be twins. “You’re gonna do it whether I say it’s okay or not, girl. Go ahead, I need to run by the bakery and pick up something from Harper anyway. Just stick a note on the door saying when we’ll be back.”
“Will do, see you in about an hour.”
I watch as he leaves, then stick a note on the door, giving the lock a turn. When I hear the click, I go to the back of the building and let myself out. Quickly I arm the alarm for the garage and get to my car, cranking up the heat and checking out the gray sky. The clouds are low today, a low-ceiling I’ve heard it called. Later on in the day, they’re calling for rain, and given how cold it is, it might turn into something more.
It’s reminiscent of the day last year when Remy and I stopped speaking to one another. I have no desire to relive that day, and stupid me never realized it’d be such a turning point in my life.
Remington Sawyer. I shake my head as I think of the teenager I met when I wasn’t even a teenager myself and the man he’s become. Even now, I get chills when I think about him. He’s an addiction I can’t quite kick, one I’m not sure I want to. As much as I want to feel his hand in mine, get more kisses, and generally have him around, the stubborn part of my personality won’t allow it. Especially not when he’s the one who created the issue by telling me I’m too young for him, thinking I don’t know my own mind.
What a fucking joke. I’ve known my own mind since I was old enough to know what love and sex are. My parents, Liam and Denise Walker, aren’t shy when it comes to showing how much they care for each other. I’ve grown up with a very healthy respect for marriage and sexuality, and I’ve wanted that with Remy since I realized the thumping of my heart when he’s around meant I like him in a way that’s not going anywhere anytime soon.
I threw myself at him. Let him take the first orgasm I’d never given to myself at a club party, and then given him the same pleasure before he pushed me away. Talking some shit about him being too old for me and he respected me too much to take my virginity.
“Oh, my virginity.” I curl my nose up as I make a left-hand turn at the end of Louisville Road heading for the strip of fast food restaurants, hoping that at least one of them didn’t have a line for lunch rush.
Thinking back to the night I gave my virginity to someone else, just to get rid of the obstacle, still causes a pain so deep it makes my chest hurt. Rubbing my hand against my breastbone, I wonder when that pain will go away. Because what happened that night set into motion this face-off between the two of us, and it looks like neither one is willing to give in anytime soon.
And that sucks, because before all of this happened, he’d been one of my best friends, and fuck if I don’t miss him. But I have enough friends. Tatum Walker wants a love like her parents, like my brother and sister have with their significant others, like every other member of the Heaven Hill MC has, and I’m not going to settle until I get it. Never again will I settle. Settling hurts, and I’ve had enough of that to last a lifetime.
Remy
“It’s cold out here today,” I comment as I enter my sister-in-law’s bakery in the Bowling Green downtown district. It’s quiet this time of day; most people want sweets in the morning, not so much after lunch, so I have the place to myself.
“You here, Harper?” I yell out, when I don’t see her manning the front counter.
“I’m here.” She laughs, coming from behind the wall that separates the front area from the private area. She’s fixing her hair, and I have to wonder what I’ve interrupted when my brother comes out from behind her, wiping his mouth of her lipstick.
“Shit, y’all. I’m sorry.”
“No, it’s okay.” Cash gives me a shit-eating grin. “Wrong place, wrong time.”
They look at one another, giggling again, and I feel the kick in my chest. That damn loneliness. God, I want what they have so badly. The fact that my brother has been able to find it after the childhood we had gives me so much fucking hope. My problem is that the woman I want it with still won’t talk to me. Three hundred and sixty-six days now, to be exact, since Tatum Walker has looked at, let alone spoken, to me.
Oh sure, she’s said things when we’re in a group together, but it’s never directed at me. Never pertaining to anyt
hing I talk about or ask. It’s as if I’m an invisible entity to her, and I wonder what I’ll have to do to get her to see me again. Being invisible to her hurts, taking me back to my childhood when I was invisible to everyone except Cash and Harper. They were the only two people who truly cared about me.
Both of them come out from behind the counter, having a seat at the table nearest me. Taking the hint, I sit down too, waiting for them to speak.
“What brings you by here?”
“Harper, do I have to have a reason to come visit my sister-in-law?”
“Not usually, but you’ve seemed down the past few weeks. I’m worried about you, kid.”
At twenty-seven, I’m not a kid anymore, but everyone still thinks of me as the small boy who toted around an inhaler like a backpack. Still, I can’t be rude, not to the two people who’ve always supported me.
“Just got a lot of shit on my mind.”
Cash leans forward on his biceps, letting the table take his weight. “Hey man, you know you can always talk to me, no matter how old you get. I’m always going to be here for you. Nothing changes that, you know?”
“I know, and I appreciate it, but it’s shit I don’t wanna talk about, to be honest.”
“Shit having to do with a certain employee of mine who just told me to shut the fuck up when I asked if she was ever going to speak to you again?”
“Why the fuck did she do that?” I flick a piece of paper off the table. “I swear to God she does stuff just to piss me off.”
“No, she does stuff to get a rise out of you,” Harper argues.
“What does it even matter when she won’t speak to me? I can be yelling in her face, and she won’t speak to me, doesn’t even act like I’m looking at her.”
On the DL Page 16
