Die a Happy Man—Thomas Rhett
“I’ll make you a deal,” Lacey whispered as she traced the tattoo on his chest.
Bryce’s hand ran up and down the middle of her back; they were cuddled together in post-coital bliss.
“Ok,” he chuckled.
“You propose to me, for real, down on one knee. All the pomp and circumstance, and I’ll say yes. I’ll follow you right to the courthouse and marry you. We can have a tiny reception at the bar after.”
They’d been talking about this situation, over and over, since he went back to work. He was sure that Lacey was beginning to see things his way, but she hadn’t given away much, until now.
“Lacey, you better fucking be serious right now.” He stared down at her, blonde hair splayed over him in a tousled mess.
She looked back up at him and gave him that trademark smile that did him in every time. “I’m serious. It’s bittersweet, but I love you. I want to be wherever you are. Everything here, it’s just material.”
She’d been giving it a lot of thought over the last few weeks. She even talked to Tyler about it. Tyler, who looked at her like she was crazy and said all things that she’d been feeling out loud. She did want to marry Bryce; she was just too scared to walk away from all she knew. She was letting fear control her, instead of listening to her heart and taking a leap of faith.
Her best friend told her outright that she was crazy if she let Bryce get away. His advice, paired with the little white plastic test she took this morning, solidified the idea. Lacey was moving to Germany with her soldier, her soon-to-be husband.
“We should make it quick, though. I’d like to get married before I start showing,” she teased, running her hand down his tight stomach.
Bryce grabbed her hand and froze. “Before you start showing? What the hell are you talking about?” He tugged her up and moved her so that she was straddling him again.
“I don’t want to look pregnant in our wedding photos.” She shrugged nonchalantly.
“Lacey, you don’t look pregnant.” He gently pinched the tight skin on her stomach. “There’s barely an ounce of fat on you, woman.”
“I don’t look pregnant yet, but in a few months…” Her voice trailed off as realization hit Bryce.
His eyes sparkled and a cocky grin fell on his lips. “You’re pregnant.”
Lacey nodded. His smile widened and his eyes got misty. “I’ll be damned. You’re having my baby.”
“I’m having your baby…our baby.” She beamed as tears of joy rolled down her face. It wasn’t planned. She was on the pill, but a major sinus infection a few weeks back, a round of antibiotics, and a period that was late – well, here they were. Yep, she was still scared shitless about the future. All the what ifs. But right now, she was pretty damn happy and sure of what she wanted.
“I probably shouldn’t be so turned on by this news, but I am.” Bryce gripped her hips and grounded his hard cock against her. A moan escaped her lips as her head fell back. She was still turned on, primed and ready to go.
Lifting her hips, she took Bryce’s cock in her hand and eased it inside her, hissing as she made her way down his shaft, inch by inch.
“Motherfucker, shit. Just like that, Lacey.” Bryce’s hands found her full tits as she rode him, with his hips driving up from below.
Bryce watched through hooded eyes as his girl bounced on him. She was going to marry him! His girl was going to be his wife, and the mother of his children. His cock flexed inside her.
No way he was going to last. Didn’t matter that they’d just fucked minutes before. He was ready to blow again, imagining her with his ring on her finger, her belly rounding with their unborn child inside her. How was it possible that everything he never knew he wanted was staring back at him right now?
He needed to come, to mark her again. Fill her with his seed. It was his primal instincts that took over when he flipped them so that she was flat on her back. He wasted no time sliding back between her legs that were now wrapped tightly around his back.
Reaching between them, he found her clit and teased her as he pounded into her relentlessly.
“I need you to come, baby. Come on my cock so I can blow,” he panted against her mouth.
“Bryce!” she screamed. Her walls tightened around him. His girl was going to come hard; he could feel it building.
The tingling at the base of his spine and the tightening in his balls told him he wouldn’t be far behind. “Give it to me, baby.”
“Oh God,” Lacey groaned. “Fuck!”
That was all it took. She was coming on his cock, squeezing him as he thrusted hard. His cock throbbed and exploded in her heat. “Goddamn, ugh, yes,” he grunted as his pace slowed and he emptied inside her. Leaning down, he claimed her lips. “I love you so much, Lacey.”
“I love you too,” she mumbled against his lips.
Bryce held himself over her for a few seconds more before he slipped from her heat and collapsed beside her.
“That was…” Lacey gasped beside him.
“Uh huh.” He rolled to his side and kissed her cheek, with one hand on her stomach.
“You’re sure this is what you want?” He propped his head up on one hand, watching her stare at the ceiling.
“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life, Bryce.”
“Good. Because I’m damn sure you’ve made me the happiest man on earth.” With a smile on his face, Bryce tugged her closer and pulled the sheet around them, her back pressed against him as he drifted to sleep.
When A Hero Falls—Stephen Cochran
Bryce slammed the phone down on the counter and cursed. When the unknown number flashed on his screen, he almost didn’t bother to answer, but something urged him to.
“Hey, everything ok?” Lacey asked, walking in the living room with a box of Christmas decorations in her arms. They planned to spend the day putting up a tree and some lights, then maybe hot chocolate and movies by the fire later. She wasn’t prepared for the sadness in his eyes when he looked at her.
“Jerry’s dead,” was all he said.
The box fell from Lacey’s arms, tumbling to the floor. She reached out for Bryce, to wrap him in her arms, but he pulled back, distancing himself from her. “Bryce,” she hissed.
“No. NO! I can’t do this.” Holding up his hands, he continued backing away from her. “I need a minute. I need to clear my head. One of my men just fucking killed himself. I need a fucking minute!”
Color drained from her face. Suicide. A hero that had been destroyed by war.
It didn’t make sense. Jerry had been doing well. Bryce talked to him a few times a week, and visited his friend when he could. How could he really be gone?
Lacey’s mind continued to race with thoughts as the front door slammed shut behind Bryce. Should she run after him? Did he really need to be alone right now? She heard his car fire up and peel out of the driveway. There was no sense in going after him now.
Leaning back against the wall, her body crumbled to the floor. Sobs wailing from her mouth, accompanying the flood of tears rolling down her face.
She cried.
For Bryce.
For Jerry.
For parents who’d have to bury their son.
So many questions and not enough answers.
Lacey felt helpless. Something so tragic happened and there wasn’t a damn thing she could do about it. Bryce was pissed. Upset. And stormed off, leaving her feeling even more lost. Instead, she let herself mourn, hoping that by the time Bryce returned, she could pull herself together enough to provide him the support he’d need. Praying that he’d open up to her.
She stayed there on the floor, until the last tear fell from her eyes, then she gathered her strength and began to clean up the mess from the box of Christmas decorations she had dropped. Hours had passed, when her cell phone rang.
Runaway’s Tavern, flashed on the screen.
“Hey, this is Lacey,” she answered.
“Do not let him leave. Get Jagger to hold him back if you need to. I mean it, Rachel. I’ll be there in ten.”
Lacey hung up and sighed. At least he had enough sense to go somewhere safe to drown his sorrows.
The ten minutes she thought it would take to get there took twenty, thanks to the snow that had begun to fall, making the ground slick.
When she walked in the door, Bryce was slumped over at the end of the bar.
“You’ve got to fucking be kidding me,” Lacey mumbled under her breath. Stepping up to Bryce, she lifted one of his arms. “Hey, soldier.”
Bryce’s head lifted; he looked at her face with bloodshot eyes. “Why are you here?”
“Time to come home.”
“I’m just having a good time, not bothering no one,” he slurred.
“Yeah, well. I think you’ve had enough fun for now. Let’s get you back to the house.”
Jagger stepped up beside her. “Miss Lacey, let me help you out.”
“Thanks,” she said, at the same time Bryce tried to stand, and said, “Don’t need no help.”
Then he fell. Right there on the floor of the bar. If it wasn’t for the fact that he looked so sad, Lacey would have laughed. There was nothing funny about this, though. He was hurting. Lacey was hurting for him.
Jagger managed to get him up off the floor and Lacey slipped his other arm around her shoulders. Getting him to walk wasn’t going to happen. “I’ve got it, Miss Lacey,” Jagger grunted and tossed Bryce over his shoulder.
She was pretty sure she heard Bryce snore as he flopped along like a rag doll.
Soon, they had him in the car and buckled in.
“How you gonna get him inside?” Jagger raised a brow.
“I’ll try and call Tyler and Scott; hopefully they can help me.”
“Miss Lacey, I didn’t see him come in. Should have paid better attention, but he was pretty darn drunk when I got here. Not my place, but I already told Rachel there’d be hell to pay for letting him continue to drink.”
Lacey shook her head. “I’ll deal with her later. I’m glad she called when she did. You go on back inside. I’m gonna call the boys before I head out with drunky.”
Inside the warm car, she dialed Tyler’s number. “Hey Ty, it’s me. Look, I’ve got a situation here, and I need some manpower. Can you and Scott meet me at my place?”
The good thing about having great friends? They didn’t question her. Instead, they were both waiting when she pulled into the driveway. Coffee was already brewing when they got Bryce inside and onto the couch.
“Figured if you needed help, it would require at least one cup of coffee,” Tyler offered as he made her a cup.
Bryce snorted in his sleep.
“One day, I’m going to make you give me the spare key back. Today isn’t that day.” Lacey offered him a weak smile.
“What’s this about?” Scott nodded in Bryce’s direction.
Pulling up a chair at the kitchen table, Lacey set down her cup and put her head in her hands. Taking a moment, she ran her hands over her face and blew out a breath. “One of his guys…killed himself. Bryce got the call today.”
Tyler and Scott both hissed.
“Yeah. He’ll be feeling it tomorrow. He fell at the bar.”
“Wait, he was at the bar? As in, our bar?”
“Yup. Nice, huh? Jagger said he was already toasted when he got there. Rachel, however, continued to serve him. Until Jagger said she needed to call me and cut the shit.”
“Fucking bitch,” Tyler growled.
“I’ll deal with her later. For now, I dunno.” She wiped at her eyes. “I’m worried about how he’ll deal with this now, too. After today. This isn’t what I need three days before we’re supposed to get married either!”
One man in her life, destroying his and the lives of two innocent people, was more than enough for her. And apparently her father hadn’t learned his lesson either. Lacey recalled seeing the newspaper article, talking about Roger Halloway, the local who had been out on probation for less than a month before he was caught driving under the influence again. This time, he’d be finishing out his original sentence, and then some.
She didn’t need her soon-to-be husband following the same path.
Breathe—Anna Nalick
Bryce groaned and rolled over, his head pounding, and his mouth felt like he swallowed cotton balls. Shit, his whole body ached. He tried to open his eyes, but the light made the hammering in his head worse.
“Oh great, you’re awake.”
“Shhh,” he whispered. Why the hell was Lacey talking so loud?
“Nope. Don’t think I will. Feeling ok?”
Fuck. “As a matter of fact, I feel like shit,” he answered.
“Good. As you should.”
“How’d I get home?” he mumbled into his pillow.
“The bartender called me. Thanks for showing up at my bar. It was a real pleasure to walk in and find my fiancé passed out on the bar.”
So, she’s pissed, he thought. Things slowly came rolling back to him.
The phone call.
Storming out of the house.
The liquor store.
Driving to the bar.
And then things got blurry.
“Jerry?” He didn’t even need an answer. He remembered that clearly. One of his men had taken his own life. “His dad called me to tell me. They want me to be there for the funeral. How the fuck am I supposed to bury one of my guys, Lace?”
“I don’t know,” she answered honestly. Her voice was soft and tender, but it didn’t last long. “Wanna talk about how you drove drunk to the bar?”
“I didn’t. I sat in the car in the parking lot, and drank until I ran out of booze. Then I walked in the bar. I’d like to know why my ass is so sore though. Any clue?”
“Oh, let’s see. Because you fell on your ass when I tried to get you out of the bar.”
“Fuuuuck.”
“Then I had to sit up all night and make sure you didn’t choke on your own vomit. It’s been a blast. When you think you can get out of bed, food is on the counter. I’ve got errands to run. You’re on your own today.”
Oh yeah, she was pissed. You’d think she’d have a little bit of sympathy for the situation, but apparently drinking himself stupid wasn’t the way to make her feel sorry for him. Fuck her. She could go run her errands. He’d eat and go back to sleep.
Ok, so maybe she had been a little hard on him. But she was frustrated. After Scott and Tyler left, Bryce had gotten sick. She cleaned up his vomit, managed to get them both cleaned off in the shower, and tucked his ass back into bed, where he tried like hell to get in her pants, before puking again. At least that time, she’d managed to get the wastebasket in front of him before he upchucked everywhere.
She was relieved to know he hadn’t gotten behind the wheel intoxicated, but she still wasn’t pleased with how he handled Jerry’s death so far. It sucked. It was sad. But going out and getting shitfaced, alone, was not going to bring him back. More than that, she felt like he was being selfish. It was probably her pregnancy hormones talking, but he hadn’t thought of anyone but himself last night. They were supposed to be getting married in two days. This incident was not something she wanted to explain to anyone.
Pulling into her parking spot behind the bar, Lacey took a deep breath. Now she had to face Rachel. As bar manager, she called a staff meeting to discuss what happened last night. They had rules, and they were supposed to look after one another – significant others included.
Tyler, Jagger, and Joe were already there when she walked in. The guys were sitting at the bar, drinking coffee and eating donuts while they waited.
“Wanna tell me what’s up, Lacey Girl? These two have been less than helpful,” Joe questioned.
She didn’t wait for Rachel to make her appearance; instead, she cut to the chase. “Got a call last night that Bryce was here. And shitfaced. Turns out, one of our bartenders continued to serve him. When I got here, he was passed out, face-down on the bar. Fell when Jagger and I tried to get him out.”
Joe huffed, his nostrils flaring. “Rachel was on last night.”
“I was.”
Speak of the devil.
“Couldn’t wait for me, Lacey? In a hurry to take care of your soldier?”
“Rachel.” Joe’s voice held a stern warning.
“Don’t even.” She held a hand up to Joe. “He was fucked up when he got here. I didn’t give him any more to drink. How he ever made it in from the car is beyond me. You came storming in here and called this meeting today without facts. Everyone caters to your petty ass, and I’m tired of it.”
“Are you shitting me right now?” Tyler stood, knocking over his bar stool. “She’s the one who hired you. Trained you. And you think we cater to her? How many times have you called out? How many times have you screwed up and one of us covered for you, or fixed it?”
“Let’s get one more thing straight. I watched you give that man at least three more drinks when he got here. I didn’t see how drunk he was. And it was me who told you that you’d better get on the phone and call Lacey,” Jagger spoke up.
Rachel’s face paled. What the fuck was with this girl? They were friendly and got along just fine. Why the hell was she acting so damn childish suddenly?
“You know what…fuck all of you. I quit.”
“Damn good thing, because I had half a mind to fire you. Jagger, watch her get her stuff, then escort her out.”
“I don’t have anything here, I’m out.” Rachel turned on her heel and marched out of the bar, slamming the door behind her.
“Fuckin’ A.” Joe rubbed his temples. “Getting too damn old for the bullshit. Tyler, Lacey, inventory. Let me know if anything’s missing. I got a real funny feeling.”
“You got it, Joe.”
“Lace, I’m sorry that shit happened in my bar.” Joe squeezed her shoulder on his way past. “You did right by letting me know.”
Come Back To Me Page 13
