“You keep in touch, Miss Lacey, I mean that. We’ll go shopping together. Have lunch. Don’t forget my number now.”
“I promise Holly,” she sniffled as Holly walked away.
Tyler climbed in the back with her for the drive to her place.
“Thanks for being there, Ty. I’ll be back at the bar Friday night for my shift.”
“Lacey, you can take some time for yourself. Joe said take all the time you need.”
“I know, but I’ll need the normalcy.”
“Will you be ok tonight? Do you want us, or Tyler, to stay over?” Scott offered.
From the minute he heard the news, Tyler had been keeping her company, and inadvertently holding her together. As much as she wanted to cling to his company again, she needed space tonight.
“I think I’ll be ok tonight. I won’t be much fun anyway. I’m going in and going to crash. You go spend some time together. You two deserve a break.” She looked at Scott. “Thank you for being here, too.”
Scott gave her a sad smile. “It’s what you do for people you care about, Lacey. Wouldn’t be anywhere else.”
His car stopped in front of her house. Stepping from the car, she slowly made her way to the front door. Once she was inside, she waved to them one more time before Scott drove off.
Loneliness seeped into her bones the minute the door clicked shut behind her.
The house felt like nothing more than empty space.
Seeing her grandmother’s things that lingered amplified her feelings, but she wondered if she would ever have the strength to sort through them.
For now, she only needed enough strength to survive a hot shower before crawling into her bed. There would be plenty of time for everything else, later.
Single—Natasha Bedingfield
“I cannot believe you two set me up like that,” Lacey pouted as Tyler and Scott chuckled.
They sat outside, sipping on milkshakes at the local ice cream shop, rehashing their failed attempt at a blind date for her, and enjoying the slightly warming April weather.
The two men sitting across from her decided that she should get out of the house for a while, so they invited her to hang out with them for the day. What they failed to tell her was that they were bringing a friend along for her, and since Tyler so graciously picked her up, she was stuck and couldn’t back out.
Andrew was one of Scott’s coworkers; an accountant. Not that there was anything wrong with that, but Andrew was far from her type. He was sweet enough at first, but it didn’t take long for his bubbly personality to grate on Lacey’s nerves.
He was on the short side, maybe an inch or two taller than her, and lanky. Wore glasses and dressed in slacks and a button-down shirt. His hair spiked on top his head and was a dark brown, almost black. No tattoos; at least none that were visible. He sort of reminded her of a dorky version of Justin Bieber, and she was NOT a ‘Belieber.’
More than that though, he was the complete opposite of Bryce.
The guys, bless them, really thought they were helping her out. Pushing her to get over the slump she was in. Instead, she ended up thinking of Bryce the whole time. And constantly comparing poor Andrew to someone he clearly wasn’t.
Who knows, maybe Andrew was a great guy. Even if he still lived with his mom and two cats.
He wasn’t the guy for her, though. Not even a good candidate for a little rebound fun, considering he was still a virgin. Nothing wrong with that, either – except for the fact that you can’t exactly get over the best orgasms of your life with someone who firmly believed in abstinence before marriage.
On that front, she gave Andrew major points. He would be a steal for the right woman, a rare breed, and she sincerely hoped that he found his perfect wife someday, something he also admitted he was in a hurry to achieve. Everyone deserved happiness. But, she was not the right woman for him; not even close.
When he got a phone call and had to leave, Lacey felt horrible for feeling relieved that she was no longer the object of his affection.
Scott shrugged and took a sip of his cheesecake milkshake. “I thought he was a nice guy. I didn’t realize he still lived with his mom though.” At least he had the decency to look apologetic.
Tyler showed no remorse. “Come on though, Lacey, is that really a deal breaker? Maybe he helps take care of her or something.” He shot her the stink eye.
“No. I could probably look past a lot of things, if he were someone else. He’s just not my type. Besides, a little warning the next time would be nice.” Lacey shook her head. “No, forget that. There better not be a next time.”
“We had to do something to get you out of the house. All you do is work and renovate, or watch TV,” Tyler reminded her.
She had been spending a lot of time fixing up the house, bringing it up to date, and watching HGTV for ideas, but, “That’s not true. I read sometimes, too. In fact, I’m reading this amazing book right now…”
“Yeah reading, that’s sooo much better,” Scott snorted.
Lacey took a hard look at her friends. Tyler had found his match. They were perfect together; they made each other happy. Hell, just hanging with them made her crave what they had, something she didn’t even know she wanted, until…no, she wasn’t going there again.
“Whatever. It was sweet of you both to try and set me up. Not everyone is going to have what you guys have, though. I’m not looking either.” She gave them both a pointed glare.
“Nope, you’re still hung up on GI Joe.” And there it was. The real reason Tyler seemed to think this setup was a good idea.
“Ty,” Scott warned.
“She is.” Tyler shrugged. “It’s fact. He’s been gone for months now, and she isn’t over him. I dunno, maybe she never will be. I, for one, hate the son of a bitch. Leaving the way he did was a dick move. Sure, he had orders. Had to go. But treating her like she was trash? Fucked up, plain and simple. And yet, she’s still pining over him. It’s time for her to move on.”
Lacey stood from the table, hands on her hips, and secretly wishing she would have never confided in Tyler about what really went down when Bryce left. “Thanks a lot, Tyler. Now I know how you really feel. You don’t get it. I don’t expect you to either, but you could at least have a little bit of compassion for your friend. You don’t get to tell me when it’s time for me to move on. From anything.”
“Lace, wait -” Tyler began to protest.
“No. Forget it. You made yourself clear. Do me a favor and don’t bother trying to set me up with anyone, ever again.”
Scott got up from the table and tossed his empty cup in the trash can. “Let’s go, Ty. Come on, Lacey, I’ll get you home. This one’s lucky I don’t make his ass walk.” He nodded in Tyler’s direction.
“You don’t have to take up for me, Scott. I appreciate it, but Tyler’s a big boy. He’s entitled to his opinion.”
“Yeah, he doesn’t know when to keep his mouth shut though. Sometimes he lacks a filter.”
“I’m standing right here,” Tyler spoke up.
“We know. Didn’t say anything I didn’t want you to hear, dear,” Scott smarted. “Now get your ass in the car.”
Lacey fought back a laugh when Tyler flipped Scott the bird and got in the backseat. No one said a word as they drove back to her house.
Alone in the house that night, Lacey thought about Tyler’s words. He wasn’t wrong with what he said. She did still have feelings for Bryce; feelings she knew weren’t reciprocated. The way he left, it was cold and harsh. A total dick move, just as Tyler had so finely pointed out. Hell, there was a good chance she’d probably never see him again either. Still, she couldn’t shake the fact that she cared for him.
Telling her it was fun while it lasted, not calling, or even writing a letter; it all spoke volumes about Bryce’s feelings about her and how he treated women. Something he warned her about the night he took her to dinner.
It didn’t matter that he was good in bed; better than good, actually. It
didn’t matter that he had shown love and respect for her grandmother. Or that he could be a gentleman when they were out on the town. None of that mattered when he could let her walk out the door, thinking she was nothing more than a fling.
Wrong Side of Heaven—Five Finger Death Punch
Eleven Months Later…
It had been three hundred and eighty-six days since he’d seen her face. Touched her silky skin.
Three hundred and eighty-four days since he’d touched U.S. soil. Walking into an empty hotel room left him feeling pissed off and longing for something more. Any other time, he’d find the first willing woman he could, and bury himself inside her. For the first time in his thirty-eight years, he craved more than pleasure, though. He wanted the warmth of a woman filling his bed and his heart. He wanted the one woman he’d left behind.
Life doesn’t stand still when a man goes to war. He knew this. But part of him, the selfish asshole that he was, hoped that maybe, just maybe, she waited for him – even though she probably shouldn’t have. Even though he didn’t ask her to.
So, he did what any dumbass would do. A glutton for punishment, he drove to the closest bar and grabbed a booth. And watched from afar. The brunette behind the bar had been replaced by a blonde. His blonde-haired girl. She laughed, smiled, at her customers, hustled from one end of the bar to the other. He watched as she disappeared to the back, and thought about the time he followed her back there. Anxiety filled his chest until she returned.
Somewhere along the line, he’d lost his damn mind. How long had he sat in the corner booth with his hat pulled down low, in a weak attempt to hide himself? Lucky for him, his old frenemy, Tyler, didn’t seem to be working tonight. Which meant he managed to slip in and grab his first beer, unnoticed.
What the hell was he even doing here to begin with? he questioned himself, as he peeled the label off his beer bottle. Did he really believe she’d speak to him? He hadn’t tried to call her, to reach out, while he was gone. He left her with a bitter goodbye, didn’t ask her to wait around. Instead, he convinced himself it was best if he left things the way they were. Better yet, did he really think there was a chance in hell that he’d be forgiven? That she’d even consider trying again?
For months, he told himself that walking away unattached was for the best for both of them. He didn’t want her to stress or worry about him. Then, like a coward, he resisted the urge to call her. He didn’t want to risk reaching out and have the door slammed on his heart.
He tried like hell, over and over again, to tell himself that when he got home, he’d move on. Find someone else willing and able to satisfy his needs for a night, and get over Lacey.
Except there really was no getting over Lacey Halloway. She’d buried herself so deep in his skin after a few short weeks, that nothing he did could erase the memory of her.
He’d been so consumed with his own thoughts inside his head that he missed her approach; hadn’t had a moment to steel himself against the gentle sound of her voice, or the look on her face.
“Need a re-” She stopped when he looked up. “Son of a bitch. Bryce?” There was no missing the venom in her words. “The fuck are you doing here?”
He could see the hurt, masked by confusion, all over her face and his heart shattered again. “I needed to see you.” He held his hands up in surrender. “I only wanted to know that you were ok. That’s all. I couldn’t stay away.”
She didn’t speak. Instead, she continued to stare at him like she couldn’t believe he was there. Her eyes studied him, as if she were trying to read his mind. He watched her tiny hands ball into fists and then flex at her sides.
Tired of waiting, he broke the silence. “You tossed the wig.” He reached out, twirling a strand of her long, blonde hair around his finger before letting it drop.
He didn’t miss the way her face flushed or the sigh that escaped her lips. Hope surged through him. At the very least, she was still affected by him.
She pulled back and stood tall before him. “You lost the right to touch me; don’t let it happen again.” Her voice dropped, and he could barely hear her whisper. “You left. Everyone always leaves.”
Bryce was unsure what she meant by everyone, but he knew he owed her an apology, “I’m sorry, you’re right. I have no right to touch you.”
Lacey’s brows shot up, but she didn’t reply. This situation was going downhill real fast.
He promised himself he’d be kind, gentle. He’d fix things, but damn, if the woman didn’t go and piss him off. “Just to be clear, sweetheart, I didn’t get a choice in the matter. I can’t exactly tell the Army to fuck off when they call and tell me to show up. It’s part of my job.”
“Fuck you, Bryce, you had a choice. Your choice was when you decided on me. I told you from the beginning; your little game wasn’t my M.O. I took a chance, tried things your way, and discovered I didn’t like it. You don’t get to waltz back in here after a year and think I’ll sleep with you again!” She started to walk away.
“Three hundred and eighty-six days,” Bryce corrected her.
Lacey stopped and turned back around. “What did you just say?”
“It’s been three hundred and eighty-six days, Lacey; a little more than a year. And for the record, I didn’t come back here to ask you to sleep with me again. I came back to say I’m sorry. For not being the person you needed, for pushing you to do things my way. But, just so we’re clear,” he said, as he stood and tossed a few bills on the table, “I have only one regret about our time together, and that’s when I let you walk out the door without asking you to wait for me. That… that is what I came here for.”
Bryce tucked his wallet back in his pocket and stomped out. He didn’t look back this time, either. Nope, he was too scared of what he might see if he did.
He jumped in his truck, gravel flying as he peeled out of the parking lot, heading back to the hotel. He should have stayed away, taken his ass back home as soon as he was debriefed. Now, he only wanted her more. He wanted to fix her, fix them; make everything right. He wanted her in his bed, in his arms, and hell, maybe even in his heart. The only thing tonight proved was just how much he had fucked up.
Bryce knew he deserved her anger. It would serve him right if she never spoke to him again. He wasn’t a quitter, though. He knew what he felt was real. There was something there between them. For now, he’d give her time to cool off, but he’d try again. One thing the Army taught him was to never go down without a fight.
I Wish I Could Break Your Heart—Cassadee Pope
The son of bitch was back. In one piece, and he had the balls to walk into her bar like nothing happened, spewing bullshit about apologies and regrets.
One thing for certain about his return? She wouldn’t be walking away without giving him a piece of her mind this time. No, he was going to hear everything she had to say, and then she’d tell him to go to hell and slam the door in his face.
Right after she finished her shift, got some form of sleep…and maybe fucked his brains out. For old times’ sake.
Then – Bryce was in for a rude awakening.
Getting home from the bar nearly three hours after their encounter, she was exhausted. Bryce showing up threw her off track. The rest of the night, she struggled to keep her head on straight. A million different things ran through her mind over and over; everything she wanted to say to him.
The hurt, the anger, all of it lingered right under the surface.
Just when she thought she was moving on, that maybe she could get past him. Seeing him again brought all those feelings back. Made her feel like a fool because they were only supposed to be a one-night stand.
One night that she willingly let turn into two…weeks, and then some.
She showered, changed into her favorite pj’s, and then attempted to sleep. Even exhausted, her mind wouldn’t shut off. After tossing and turning for hours, she gave up.
It was now or never. Grabbing her phone, she dialed Bryce’s number and listene
d as it rang.
“You pushed me away,” she said the minute Bryce answered the phone. She didn’t wait for him to respond. “I felt used. Like I didn’t matter. Like I was just a place for you to get your dick wet before you deployed again.”
But she was, she scolded herself. One night, no rules – a few more weeks, still no rules, no titles. Just sex. Yet, it still hurt.
“Where are you at right now?” he asked. Lacey could hear shuffling in the background and wondered where he was, what he was doing before she called, and why exactly he cared about her whereabouts.
A tiny sniffled escaped, betraying her strong front she wanted to hold onto. “Home.”
“I’m on my way. We can talk face to face.”
He didn’t ask; he was commanding her, again. But she couldn’t bring herself to say anything more, so she gave in, disconnecting the call, and waited.
It didn’t take him long to show up on her doorstep like a man on a mission.
“Why me?” Lacy pushed through the screen door and stepped onto the porch, wrapping her arms around her chest to keep herself warm, as he walked up the front porch steps. She was still dressed in her pajamas – a pair of plaid flannel pants and an oversized long sleeve tee. She probably should have thought twice about her apparel before now.
It didn’t matter. She needed answers, demanded them. So much for the revenge sex. Looks like she was skipping right to giving him a piece of her mind.
“What do you mean, why you, Lacey?”
“Why did you pick me to fuck around with?” she snipped. “You could have any girl, any woman, you wanted, yet you set your sights on me. When I turned you down the first night, you came back. You persisted. Was it some kind of fucking game to you?”
“Christ, you are blind, aren’t you?” His voice was soft and somehow, he was calm, even though she was not. “Do you not see how beautiful you are? Fuck, Lacey, you caught my eye from the minute I walked in the bar.”
Come Back To Me Page 6
