by BK Rivers
After sending a few emails, checking Facebook, and playing a game on my phone, I huff out a sigh. I’m bored out of my mind and Julia still hasn’t called. Back to Facebook, I scan through James’s profile when my phone finally rings.
“Hello?” Breathe. “This is Stacey.”
“Hi, Stacey, this is Julia…from the bookstore?”
“Thank you for calling me back,” I say, crossing my fingers and holding my breath. Please let me get the job…and the house!
“First, I wanted to give you the phone number to the house for rent. It’s not much from the looks of it, but maybe it will work out.” She rattles off the number and as I write it down, I release the breath I was holding and then cross my fingers about the job.
“I’ve got to tell you, I was really glad you stopped in today. I had actually only posted the sign about twenty minutes before you showed up. Are you still interested in the job?”
“Yes. Definitely.” If it’s at all possible, I cross my fingers even tighter.
“Then I would love to offer it to you. I just know you and I will get along wonderfully. You’re perfect for the job and I’d love for you to start on Monday. Will that work for you?”
As calmly as I can, I say, “Yes. Monday is great.” We talk a little more about the job before finally hanging up. On my bed, I jump around on my knees and then fall into my pillow and squeal as loud as I can.
When I’ve calmed down, I retrieve the phone number from the top of the dresser and dial. It rings four times and goes to voice mail, and after leaving a message, I run downstairs to tell Reggie the good news.
She and Jordan are seated next to each other on the couch, her cheeks are flushed and her lips are swollen. She looks like I’ve just caught her and her husband making out. Yet another reason to quickly find a place of my own. I sit down on the love seat across from them and throw a pillow across the room, hitting my best friend on the forehead.
“What was that for?” she squeals, throwing it back.
Jordan laughs and flips through the television channels.
“For making out in the open when anyone could walk in on you. You do have a son, may I remind you. And a houseguest. Thank goodness you both have all your clothes on.”
Reggie’s cheeks flush even brighter as she turns and punches Jordan in the shoulder.
“That’s spousal abuse,” he teases, digging into her sides, tickling her.
“So, I have some news,” I say, tucking my legs underneath me. “You are looking at your newly employed best friend.”
Reggie and Jordan offer me congratulations as I tell them about the bookstore and Julia. I’m actually really excited to start working there, even though getting out of retail would be ideal. But something about the job and Julia makes it all okay. When I mention the house for rent, I can’t help but catch the spark of excitement from them both about having their home to themselves again.
“Hopefully, I’ll hear back soon and be out of your hair before too long,” I say, slightly wounded but excited at the same time. I can handle an hour’s drive to come see my best friend over fifteen hundred miles any day.
Saturday passes with no word from the owner of the house for rent, and when Sunday afternoon comes and still nothing, I begin to lose hope and kick myself for not apartment hunting all weekend. Why did I think this was going to work out? Oh yeah, because my name is Stacey and I don’t believe in backup plans.
When my phone rings Sunday evening, I expect it to be my mom calling. “Hello?” I say, not recognizing the phone number.
The voice, distinctly male, clears his throat before speaking. “Yeah, this is Chase Steele. You called about the house I have for rent.”
The breath catches in my throat as my nerves start twisting into a knot in my stomach. I really want to get this house I haven’t even seen yet.
“Yes, thanks for calling me back. I was beginning to worry that maybe you already rented it out.”
“You’re the first person to call about it. I just put the sign in the window a couple days ago. How did you find out about it? Were you driving through the neighborhood?” I like the sound of his voice, it’s a little gravelly but smooth at the same time.
“Actually, I just moved here and got a job. The woman who hired me saw the sign and gave me your number.” We talk a bit more about the house and when he tells me the cost of the rent, I nearly choke. It’s actually in my price range, and since it’s vacant, I can move in right away.
“Can I meet you there tomorrow to see it? I’m like ninety percent certain I want it, but I just need to see it first.”
We arrange to meet at the house tomorrow at 7 p.m. and then hang up. I can’t believe it—I may have just rented a house!
Chapter 8
Ace
It’s possible I’m going to throw up. Like spew all over the front yard of my house in front of neighbors I don’t know anymore. I haven’t set foot on this property in five years and I have no intention of stepping inside the faded blue front door today or ever again. The day I buried my wife was the day I handed over keys to a housekeeper and a landscape maintenance company. Ethan and a couple of his buddies packed up our things and furniture, put it all in storage, and I pay the monthly bill like clockwork.
I couldn’t even park my motorcycle in the cracked driveway, which, if I examine closely, resembles my heart with the numerous fracture lines. Even the exterior of the house needs a little love, not that I plan on personally taking care of the chipping gray paint or the dusty windowsills. Huffing out a sigh, I walk up the driveway that leads to the garage in the back of the property. How am I going to show this chick a house I can’t step foot in?
Marley and I were on cloud nine over the fact that we’d bought a house—with her parents’ help since they co-signed on the loan. She was nineteen and I was twenty and we had just married. We dated in high school and when I graduated, leaving her with one more year left, I knew she was it for me. I went right into the police academy, graduated six months later, and started out behind a desk. After Marley graduated and I got promoted to a patrol car, we got married.
And bought this damn house I can’t go inside or sell.
Ethan’s been working on me for a couple years to rent it, and over the summer it finally felt like it was time. Like maybe the house deserved to have some happy memories made within its walls. I shudder recalling the state in which I’d left the house—I should have just burned it to the ground.
Walking back toward the front yard, a silver car with Arizona plates pulls to a stop behind my motorcycle, snapping me back to the present. The driver cuts the engine, opens the door, and steps out, revealing fiery red hair and a pair of creamy white shoulders. The breath in my lungs catches as she turns around to take in the view of the house. Her name floats off my lips in a whisper. “Stacey.”
Pulling my phone from the back pocket of my jeans, I check the number she called from, noting the 602 area code. Phoenix. Shit.
She hasn’t noticed me standing at the corner of the house yet, so I take a second to replay her message on my phone. How did I not connect the voice on the message to the voice of the girl I spent a couple crazy days with in July? Dancing with her at the club and then attending her friend’s wedding weren’t exactly what I had planned, but after Stacey left, I found myself thinking about her a lot. Hell, as she practically glides up the front walk, her bare shoulders taunt me, reminding me of how much I had wanted to run my lips over her soft skin.
That’s dangerous ground right there.
Feeling like a creeper, I clear my throat, announcing my presence just as she climbs the three steps to the small front porch. Stacey’s nose scrunches up as she glances at me, then her eyes widen in recognition.
“Ace?” A smile graces her lips and suddenly she leaps off the porch, runs to me, and our bodies collide in a warm embrace. On instinct, my arms snake under hers and wrap her in a hug and my eyes close as I breathe her in: peaches and lilies—I don’t think I coul
d ever tire of that scent.
“What are you doing here?” she asks as her arms slip off me after a brief pause of awkward silence. I’m sure I looked like a stalker hiding out behind the corner of the house, but what else could I do? I wasn’t exactly expecting her. Sure, she left her name with the message, and said it again when we spoke yesterday, but Stacey’s a fairly common name. How was I supposed to know it was the same Stacey from this summer?
I clear my throat and take a step backward. “This is, uh…” Why is this so hard for me to say? I own the damn house and should have no issue stating the fact. “My house. This is my house.” Stacey’s head jerks back at the roughness of my voice. I didn’t mean for it to come out sounding like I’m a territorial caveman beating his club on the land surrounding the house.
“Sorry,” I say, once again clearing my throat. “More to the point…what are you doing here?” Last I knew, she was in Arizona. Not that we’d ever exchanged numbers or anything. I had no way to keep track of her—legally.
Stacey’s hands ball into fists and land on her hips, more so in a playful way than her being obstinate. A smile forms, revealing the creases on her cheeks that resemble cavernous dimples.
“I decided to move here, Mr. Officer.” Damn, those brown eyes of hers draw me in, making me want to glide my fingers down her bare arms and pull her close. That tank top she’s wearing hugs all her curves, revealing more of her body than she probably intended. Tugging on my right earlobe and running my tongue over my bottom lip while I stare at her is probably not the best idea right about now considering her cheeks have taken on a rosy hue and she’s turning away toward the house.
“Will you show me around?” she asks, walking toward the porch steps. For a brief moment, my legs begin to move to do what she’s asked, but then my brain catches up with me. “I really like the house from the out—” Stacey pauses when she turns and notices me still standing in the spot she left me. “You coming?” Her head tilts to the side, her hair drapes over her shoulder, and a hesitant smile forms on her lips.
I shake my head, fold my arms across my chest, and stand at attention—feet firmly planted shoulder-width apart. A muscle in my jaw ticks while my heart thunders in my chest in fear. I’m freaking terrified of stepping foot on that porch and I can’t tell her that or why. She would leave the property running and never glance my way again.
Not that I want her attention.
Right. I don’t want anything to do with her; I don’t want her smiles, the chirp of a laugh she offers when she’s on the verge of being nervous, or her velvety touch. I don’t want any of that.
I can’t have any of that.
Stacey steps off the porch and stops in front of me. My nose fills with the scent of peaches and lilies and I want to close my eyes and savor it. Memorize how it floats in the air and warms me from the inside. But I don’t. My eyes instead focus on hers as she brings her warm hand to rest on my forearm.
“Did you change your mind about renting your house to me? If you did, please just tell me.” She drops her hand when I say nothing, pulls her bottom lip between her teeth, and lowers her head. “It was good to see you, Ace. See you around.” Stacey skirts around me and slowly makes her way back to her car. She steals one more glance at the house and then me, and when our eyes connect, my stomach flips and feels like it drops to my knees. She raises her hand to chest level and offers me a wave.
“Stacey, wait,” I say, shaking my head at my stupidity as I jog up to her. “This is just really hard. Take the keys and go look inside. I’ll stay outside while you look around.” The gold key dangles from my hand and when her palm opens to me, I drop it into her waiting hand.
“Thanks,” she says, avoiding eye contact. She steps around me, walks up the cement walkway, which coincidentally also needs repair, and ascends the three steps to the front porch. She pushes the key into the lock, turns it, and then glances over her shoulder at me before opening the door.
I don’t exactly know what I expected when she walked through the door. Maybe I thought the house would spit her back out, or maybe the ghost of Marley would come rushing out to greet me and then yell at me for letting another woman inside our house. But nothing happened. Absolutely. Freaking. Nothing.
No lightning strikes, storm clouds, slamming doors, or shattering glass. Not even any sign of my deceased wife—not that I truly believe in ghosts or that Marley would be haunting the house. Her memories haunt me wherever I am.
Glancing at the ground at my feet, I notice a small anthill with dozens of tiny black ants crawling around. As Stacey exits the house, she locks the door, turns back to me wearing a smile. I scatter the small dirt hill, covering the ants with the loose earth, and meet her in the middle of the walkway. Damn, the ants only multiply.
“Ace, it’s perfect,” she says, beaming. My heart flutters in my chest remembering those exact words spilling from Marley’s lips so long ago. “When can I move in?” she asks, holding out the key.
I swallow hard around the lump forming in my throat and shake my head. “I don’t want the key back. You keep it. You can move in as soon as you want.”
“Really?” she squeals, and then leaps at me with her arms outspread and then pulls me in for another hug.
I can’t return the embrace this time, because for the briefest moment, I swear I saw Marley standing at the door wearing her favorite white sundress and a serene smile on her face. Blinking several times, when I glance back, she’s no longer there and I’m ready to get the hell back to Ethan’s place and drown Marley’s memories in a couple beers. Stacey and I exchange information so she can mail me her rent checks and the deposit, and then part ways.
While driving back to Ethan’s, I decide I’ve probably just done the stupidest thing I ever could. There’s no question that Stacey makes me feel things I don’t want to feel, but knowing she’s living in my house will make it easy to stay away.
Chapter 9
Stacey
I’ve got the keys to the house! Never would have thought this day would come, but here it is and now I get to move in. As soon as Ace pulls away on his motorcycle, I call Reggie and tell her the great news. In the background I can hear Jordan offering to help me move in tomorrow. Not that I don’t want to move in right away, but my bed’s not even cold yet. Sheesh.
The house is super cute with its large windows, wood floors, and old brick fireplace in the living room. The three bedrooms are all upstairs, along with two small bathrooms. Downstairs there is a half bath with cute white hexagonal tiles on the floor and a fancy pedestal sink. The galley kitchen is older but in good condition and has all the appliances I would need. It even has a small backyard with a couple giant trees and soft green grass.
Why Ace doesn’t live here is beyond me. Maybe he owns a couple houses and keeps this one as a rental. Though when I asked him if he was coming inside to show it to me, his face paled and his eyes looked like he’d seen a ghost. When I first met him on the airplane, his icy blue eyes are what drew me to him. They hold so much emotion in them, but today what I saw was pain and sadness. And it crushed me. Why someone like him carries that around is beyond me, and I find myself wanting to help him. I want to heal his wounds and see those eyes of his when he’s truly happy and no longer hurting.
True to his word, Jordan has me up at the crack of dawn the next morning, helping me pack up what little I unpacked, and wants to be on our way before 9 a.m. He even has Reggie helping me tape up boxes in between making Micah breakfast and packing his lunch for school. I don’t know if I’ve ever felt so unwanted.
Thirty minutes before Jordan wants to leave, Vic shows up with Jemma and their baby girl. Does everyone want me out of this house? Completely flustered and a little bitter, I shove my bathroom items into a small duffle bag, hoist it over my shoulder, and head downstairs and out the door. I shove the bag in my car, send a quick text off to Jordan giving him the address of the house, and then hop in my car. I’m outta here. I can take the hint.
Halfway to Warner, Reggie calls, but I ignore it and turn the radio louder. Several songs and a scratchy throat later, a White Shadow song begins to play, making me groan and change to a different radio station. I really don’t need the reminder that Jordan used to be the freaking lead singer of White Shadow and how he’s stolen my best friend. I kind of hate men at the moment.
The house looks just as cute today as it did last night, which means I know I made the right decision in renting it. I have no idea how far Jordan and Vic are behind me, but I don’t care, this gives me time to do a little more exploring. Julia, my new boss, was kind enough to give me the day off so I could move in today. I assured her I wouldn’t need another day off for a long time, but she said it was no problem.
The faded blue front door of the house reminds me of a mottled stormy blue sky back in Phoenix. In the summers during monsoon season, the sky can turn so many shades of blue and it’s beautiful. And the sunsets? You’ve not seen a real sunset until you’ve been in Arizona. Vibrant pinks, purples, oranges, and yellows line the sky, looking like an abstract painting. They’re so amazing you’d almost think they were fake. Something else I’m going to miss, I guess.
Key in hand, I walk up the path to the front door and see a note taped to the handle. It’s from Ace and it reads:
Stacey,
I forgot to mention that your key will open the garage in the back and you’ll find everything you need to care for the yard. I will cancel the landscape maintenance company and the housecleaner since you will be living here. If you need anything, just shoot me a text.
-Ace
I re-read the note. He’s cancelling the landscape company? Um…yeah, that doesn’t work for me. I have no idea how to mow the grass. We didn’t have grass in the backyard growing up in Phoenix. We had a pool and rocks. Lots of rocks. In a rush, hoping to stop him from making the call, I send Ace a text.
