Only for You

by Marquita Valentine

“Lacey Evans,” Wyatt says, his voice less coaxing and more firm. “Look at me.”

  Her eyes refocus and I let out a sigh of relief when she cries, “Wyatt!” She runs to him, wrapping her arms around his neck, and then suddenly lets go, head down and shoe scrapping at the carpeted floor. “Sorry,” she mumbles.

  He lifts her chin, peering at her through dark lashes. “Hey, anytime you want to tackle hug me like that, you go for it.”

  “’Kay,” she whispers, just loud enough for me to hear. “Rae’s singing country music tonight.”

  “I know,” he says, flashing me an apologetic smile. I shake my head, letting him know that I don’t mind her “ratting me out”. “Cole’s happy Rae’s singing.”

  “That’s good.” Lacey glances over her shoulder at me. “Wyatt says Cole is happy. So sing the song I picked out.”

  Not happening. “Sure.”

  They leave the room, door wide open, with Lacey safely tucked between Wyatt and the wall.

  I feel Jaxon’s presence behind me. “What do you want?”

  He says the one thing that could send me screaming into the night. The one thing I desperately needed to hear while I was in the hospital all alone, while I was lying in a field and bleeding to death… when I learned I’d lost our baby.

  But maybe that was my imagination or wishful thinking on my part. He’s with Callie and I’m with Cole—completely happy and in love with Cole. But there’s a connection between us that can’t be denied.

  “Excuse me?”

  He takes my hands in his, long musicians’ fingers that used to know how to play my body touching my skin. I feel nothing, nothing at all for him.

  “I said… You. Rae. I want you.”

  Chapter Two

  Cole

  Son.

  Everett’s so casual about that word, or maybe he thinks it will butter me up. Either way, I don’t care. I’m beyond caring. Caring about him ended about ten years ago, when I realized after my first attempt at shaving, that the only person who would be around to show me was my mom. Or one of her boyfriends.

  Officer Ford had been the one to end up doing it, after I’d left the house looking like I’d taken a cheese grater to my face.

  “When that heals up, I’ll show you how to shave the right way,” he said.

  I squinted up at him, big and tall in his blue uniform. “You ain’t my daddy.”

  Officer Ford placed his hands on his hips, a small smile on his face. I had seen that look before on quite a few adults in town, and recognized it for what it was: Pity.

  “Yeah, I ain’t your daddy, but I am a police officer, and it’s my job to protect people.” He tore off one of the scraps of toilet paper on my chin. “And son, it looks like your face needs some protecting.”

  Rubbing at the spot over my ear, I mull his words over. “No perfume though. That shit burns.”

  “Language, Cole.” He smacks the back of my head, and I grin. So does he. Then he holds out his other hand and shakes mine, like we’re both adults. “I won’t make you use perfume. Deal?”

  I blink.

  Strange how that particular memory bubbles up, especially since the dude loves to arrest my ass.

  “Damn boy, you’re one shitty bartender,” I hear Everett complain. “Shitty service from the waitresses too. Looks like nothing’s changed.”

  Smirking, I say, “You sure have, old man.” I make sure to emphasize the word old.

  Growing up, my mother had drilled what Everett liked and disliked into my brother’s and my head so we’d help make him stay. One thing that got him going, his age. Everett’s fifteen years older than Crystal, and when they fought, she liked to remind him of it. When she’d come to The Double Duce, with Parker and me in tow, she’d flirt with guys her own age and younger just to piss my dad off.

  And boy would it piss him off.

  He’s like those guys you see in town, still cruising the strip and still stopping at all the same spots, just like he did in high school. Those guys don’t look in the mirror and see age; they look in the mirror and only see memories.

  Of course as soon as he even hinted at leaving Forrestville, my momma would get all weepy and apologetic. They’d go in the back of the bar and leave Parker and me with our Uncle Max or Officer Ford.

  Everett lunges at me, but Officer Ford suddenly appears, his arm snaking around my dad and holding him back. “As much as I’d love for you to beat some sense into this boy, I’d hate to arrest your ass in front of all these lovely reporters.”

  “Sure… you’d hate to arrest his, but mine, you have no problem arresting.” I shoot Ford a look. “Do you get points for harassing people under the age of twenty-five or something?”

  “Sky miles. Saving up for a trip to Australia,” Ford quips and I blink. He’s making jokes?

  “Now that y’all finished chitchatting, I’d appreciate if you’d let me go,” Everett growls.

  Dark blue eyes, my blue eyes, glare at me before my dad rounds on Ford. Instead of a punch to the face like I expect, he does one of those man hugs with lots of claps to the back.

  “Brent Ford. It’s been a while,” my dad says. “But you’re still here. Still doing your thing.”

  Ford doesn’t even miss a beat. “Someone had to look after your kids.”

  To my surprise, Everett nods. “Yeah, Crystal isn’t the most responsible mother.”

  “Fuck you.” I clench my jaw, right along with my fists, and fix my gaze on Everett. “At least she was there. That’s more than you can ever claim.”

  Everett takes a couple steps, so that we’re standing toe to toe. He’s broader than I am and still in shape from what I can tell, but I’m younger and I have an advantage that he doesn’t. I don’t give a shit about what the world thinks of me. Only Rae. And in this, my girl would support me whole-heartedly.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I watch as a few people begin pointing at us. But I’m not backing down.

  “I’ve claimed a lot more than I should.” My dad tips his chin at my brother, who’s being escorted pass me by two huge dudes. He rolls his eyes and sort of waves at me. “Like that one for instance.”

  Yeah, like that was a shocker. Everett’s too white to be Parker’s dad. “Wish I could be so lucky.”

  “Look, I’m not here to see you, to talk to you… to drink with you and make up for lost time.” Hurt slashes through me, unexpectedly, at his words. “I don’t want to be your daddy, so stay out of my way, kid. And leave Violet the hell alone. You’re just like your mother, everything you touch turns to shit.”

  My fist flies before I can stop myself and connects with his face, bone and cartilage crunching. He howls and blood spurts from his nose.

  “Son of a bitch.” I wince, shaking out my hand. Apparently, my looks weren’t all that I inherited from Everett. The son of a bitch has a hard head.

  A woman with blond hair and expensive clothes runs up to him, her brown eyes wide. There’s a long scar on the side of her face, disappearing into her hairline. “What happened?”

  “Get me something to mop this up, Callie,” Everett says, like he’s speaking around a mouthful of marbles.

  She grabs a towel from a waitress that had been bussing a table and presses it against Everett’s face. “Keep that there, and I’ll call the police and 911.”

  Ford steps between us. “No need, ma’am, I saw the entire thing.”

  Cradling my hand, I let my head fall back. Of course, my temper would get me in trouble tonight, on the night of nights. When Rae needs me out here, supporting her like she’s supporting me. And my baby sister, Kelly… I had promised her I wouldn’t be going away anymore.

  “Oh thank God,” Callie cries and I lift my head up, giving her a long, hard stare. Something about her is fake, real fake.

  Holy shit. This Callie is Rae’s former best friend, Callie Hughes. I hate the girl on sight, just for Rae’s sake, but for my sake, I kind of want to thank her, because if she hadn’t been a boyfriend stealer, I wo
uldn’t have Rae.

  “Oh thank you, Officer,” Callie adds, beaming at Ford.

  I roll my eyes and brace for the worst.

  “Yep.” Ford casually stirs his Shirley Temple. I narrow my eyes at the extra cherries in it. “Poor bastard tripped over his own feet and slammed his face into this here post. Good thing Cole was nearby to help him up.”

  “Are you high?” I ask Ford. There’s no way he’s not arresting me. It’s his favorite thing to do. I swear the man plans his days around it. I’m pretty sure his to-do list has—Arrest Cole Morgan—at the very top, and that his list never changes.

  He pops a cherry in his mouth. “Nope.”

  Normally, I’d argue with Ford. But, normally, he’d be putting me in the back of his squad car by now. So I’m going to keep my comments and my disbelief to myself. A part of me knows that I’ll have to thank him later. I won’t like it, but it’s the right thing to do.

  “Nice.” Callie’s eyes narrow as she looks at me. “Violet sure did know how to pick them.”

  “And how to get rid of the trash.” I wink at Callie. Her brow scrunches, confused by my remark.

  “Maybe you should get one of your waitresses to come mop up this floor,” Everett says, half his face obscured by an ever-reddening towel. “I think I slipped on something.”

  Not taking my eyes off him, I yell for Jane. Within a couple of minutes, she has the “spill” cleaned up and is serving drinks—a non-alcoholic one for Callie. Ford even checks it, his mouth dipping into a frown when he discovers it’s legit.

  A sigh of relief leaves me. Everything’s back to normal. I cut my gaze to my dad. He’s talking to some guys that are taking notes on their iPads. Okay, so not everything is back to normal.

  Callie lets out a huff. “Just how long am I supposed to wait for Jaxon to talk to her?”

  “Her who?” I ask, but I already know the answer. I head for the back, waving off Callie’s reply.

  When I get there, this guy’s blocking the door and Rae. She doesn’t look scared, but she does look bothered. Bothered isn’t a look I want my girl to have when some dude I don’t know is trapping her in a room.

  “Who the hell are you and why are you blocking Rae from leaving?” I growl.

  Slowly the asshole turns around and my eyes widen. I can’t help it. It feels like I’ve just been sucker punched. All the air has been sucked from my body and it’s all I can do not to double over in pain.

  *** *** ***

  Jaxon

  Violet doesn’t look the same, and it’s not just her pink-tipped short hair, the nose ring, or the outfit. Although, I have to admit she looks hot wearing a short, white skirt and pink tank. Bracelets cover her wrists on her right, none on her left, and I wonder if anyone around here knows it because she’s a leftie.

  Yeah, this isn’t the same girl at all. How she holds herself… how she looks at me. This isn’t the same person I was permitted to visit once while she was recovering, all broken and defeated. Not that she should have been any other way, because at the time I knew exactly how she felt—well, maybe not exactly.

  But how should any guy feel when the woman he loves loses their baby? A baby he had no idea about. A part of me is sad and another part is numb. I’d envisioned a lifetime with Violet, with kids and everything that comes with being married.

  But I blew all that to hell, with one not-so-simple decision.

  When I close my eyes, I can still see the jagged piece of windshield embedded in Violet’s body. I’ve had nightmares about the wreck, about being forced to leave her, the massive lying, and the major cover up… Yeah, I hadn’t been the one driving drunk that night, but I still feel responsible.

  I blow out a breath and run a hand though my hair.

  “You want me?” Incredulous doesn’t even begin to describe the expression on her face.

  Normally, I wouldn’t repeat myself a third time. It’s bad enough I had to say it a second, but I’ve missed Violet. “Yeah.”

  I’m not quite sure what I expected her to say to my third declaration, but for her to stand there, saying nothing at all, with a look of shock, and maybe even disgust, on her face never entered the realm of possibilities.

  Her face smooths out, her expression so unreadable that I’m not sure if shock and disgust were ever there in the first place.

  “You have Callie,” she says. “I have Cole. So there’s nothing you need from me, and there’s nothing I need from you.”

  “I don’t have Callie.” I take another step closer and she steps back. Not that long ago, she would have wrapped her arms around me, eager to kiss and hold me. But I fucked that up, with too many lies. “And who cares about Cole? From what I know, he’s this white trash—”

  “He’s your brother. Half, step, adopted… whatever the right term is, he’s your brother and don’t you dare saying anything about him.”

  “I’m adopted and that makes us exactly nothing.” My parents had paid some woman to carry me, since my mother’s unable to have kids. Or should I say unwilling to get pregnant, because she thinks it will give Everett an excuse to be more of a horn-dog than he already is. Like he needs an excuse to step out on my mother.

  Violet’s eyes narrow and her lips purse, like the time I made her try a Lemon Drop. I had kissed those puckered lips, reveling in the taste of her.

  “Still sucking down lemon drops, baby girl?” I ask casually, but my intentions are anything but casual. I want to remind her of our time together. Of the time I kissed her sour lips and hadn’t stopped. I’d coated all the vulnerable spots of her body with the sour concoction and licked it away.

  A blush rises to her face. Point to me.

  “It’s all in the past. You’re my past. Cole’s my future.” She picks up her guitar, slings the strap over one shoulder, and starts for the door. “Better get used to that.”

  “Still singing with you tonight.” I block the door with my body.

  “The hell you are,” she growls and I smile. Yeah, I’m digging this new Violet.

  “Your contract says you can’t sing in a public venue, charity even, without the permission of your record label.”

  Her fingers drum on the neck of the guitar. “I heard you the first time,” she snaps.

  “You’re the one making me repeat everything,” I reply, growing more uncomfortable by the second with all the animosity quickly filling the room. This isn’t us… well, it used to not be us.

  During the last few months of our relationship, when things had started getting bad for me, and she had started getting suspicious, we’d argued a lot. I had to pacify her a lot, constantly assuring her that the rumors about me with another girl were just lies to sell magazines and get hit on websites.

  Until that night…

  “You have to leave now.” Grabbing her clothes, I throw them at her. She throws them back at me and jumps on the bed. I dodge them and march to the bed, tugging on the safest part of Callie—her arm. “I’m not playing y’all’s game anymore.”

  “We’re in this together, until the end, Jaxon. Whether you like it or not,” she says, right before her leg comes out of nowhere and hits the knee that I’d hurt in an ATV accident the month before. Pain shoots upward, all the way to my groin. I fall into bed, grabbing my knee and moaning.

  “Damn it, Callie, I don’t want—” She shoves a sock into my mouth and I spit it out.

  “Jaxon?” I hear Violet call out.

  “Don’t do this,” I plead. For the first time in my life, I’m begging a girl to get out of my bed. “Please.”

  “Bless your heart.” Callie climbs on top of me, raking her nails down my bare chest just as Violet walks in. “Oh yeah,” she moans, her hips moving on me.

  “Callie? Jaxon… How could you?” Violet cries.

  “Who the hell are you and why are you blocking Rae from leaving?” a deep voice asks, pulling me out of my memories.

  “Cole,” Violet cries, happiness and longing apparent in the word. Envy rakes her nas
ty claws across my heart, digging in deep. “Move out of the way, Jaxon.”

  Taking my time, so that the jealousy doesn’t show, I slowly turn around to face this “brother” of mine and almost hit the floor in shock.

  Black hair, blue eyes, and an unsmiling mouth. It’s like Everett went to God and demanded that he make this guy in his image.

  “Damn.”

  Apparently, I’m not the only one who is shocked by our first meeting, because his eyes widen a little and then narrow at me. I lift up my chin, the couple of inches I got on him making me smirk.

  Chapter Three

  Cole

  I’m staring at the negative of me. I’m staring at this guy, a guy Rae says is adopted, but there’s no damn way.

  He has my mother’s eyes, all violet blue with girly lashes. He has her hair and the male version of her face, with our father’s build.

  “Damn,” he mutters, just as shocked it seems. Then he lifts his chin and smirks, reminding me of Beau, with his attitude and height. He would have to be taller than me.

  I glance at Rae, but she’s pissed off rather than confused. Me, I don’t like staying confused. Confusion is a weakness I can’t afford.

  “Rae says you were adopted?”

  That smirk of his stays plastered on his face. “Yeah.”

  “Sure about that?”

  “Really don’t see how that’s any of your business or Rae’s either.” But that smirk falls just a little. “Anyway, it’s time for Violet Lynn and me to sing, so you can keep the cockroaches in business.”

  Oh hell no. This cocky-as-shit attitude is not happening. “Get out of my bar.”

  “Be happy to, right after I perform with Violet,” he says.

  “Her name’s Rae.”

  He rubs the side of his face. “That’s not the name I remember moaning.”

  It takes me a split second to fully comprehend what he’s saying. Instead of letting my firsts do the talking, I say, “Maybe you got shit for brains.”