A Soldier for Suzie: A Military Romantic Comedy (Love will OUT Book 3)

by D. E. Haggerty

  He runs a hand through his hair. “I don’t want you, my friend, having children using my sperm without me being involved in the raising of the children.”

  Ah, I see. “I get it. They would be a part of you.”

  “Exactly. And I’m around. You’re one of my closest friends. I’d see your kids all the time. Be a part of their lives, but not as their father. It would be too weird for me.”

  I pat his hand but pull away when the temptation to squeeze it becomes too much. “I understand. I wasn’t completely serious about you being my baby daddy. I haven’t given much thought to having children on my own, to be honest.”

  “Why not?” He gestures to the house. “You obviously want children.”

  “But children should have two parents.”

  “Are we back to you being a man-hater?”

  “I’m not a man-hater,” I huff.

  “The first time I met you, you said, and I quote here, ‘Hi, I’m Suzie. I’m a man-hater, but I’ll be your friend’.”

  I drop my head to the table and cover it with my arms. I probably should have a muzzle on me when I drink.

  Grayson kicks my foot under the table. “Come on. Men aren’t all bad. You have tons of male friends. And your girlfriends have men who you like and trust.”

  I lift my head and narrow my eyes on him. “Are we back to you being curious about my past? Because it’s a waste of your breath. I’m not revealing my deep, dark secrets to you.”

  “You will eventually. Why not get it over with?”

  I am done with this conversation. “You said something about helping me with marketing?”

  He stares at me for a long moment before speaking. “I’ll let you get away with changing the conversation today.”

  I roll my eyes. He’ll let me? As if I need his permission to change the conversation. “Come on. Tell me what you got.”

  He removes a folder from his backpack. “Now, these are merely ideas. They need to be worked on further.” He opens the folder and pulls out a few sheets of paper, which he slides across the table to me.

  My mouth drops open as I look at the different logo designs for Shorty’s Brewing Sensation. They are awesome. “Wow. Did you draw these?”

  I shift through the different designs. There’s one for each type of beer I brew – Shout but Stout, Shorty’s Holiday Brew, and Shorty’s Session IPA.

  We spend the next hour discussing my brewing brand and some marketing techniques. Grayson is really into this marketing stuff. His hands are moving all over the place as he explains his different ideas for each social media platform.

  I’m not sure I’m ready for the next step. This marketing stuff is pretty professional. Nothing about it spells hobby. No, if I’m going to take this step then I need to be sure I’m serious about the brewing business.

  And then there’s You Cheat, We Eat. Can I combine working there with running a brewery? And what if the joy of brewing is lost to me when I make it a business?

  As I shut the door behind Grayson as he leaves, I realize there’s one thing I didn’t think about with regard to the business – my shithead ex. Not one thought of my jerk of an ex entered my mind. Huh. Maybe I don’t need to worry about how running this business will bring up thoughts of the asshole. Maybe I am ready to move forward with this brewing thing without him.

  Chapter 18

  Beer never broke my heart

  “Are you sure you can handle little ‘ole me kicking your ass in pool?” I tease Grayson as we walk to the pool tables at McGraw’s.

  Since our ‘baby daddy’ talk, things have gone back to normal between us. Oh sure, I still feel like a live wire smacks into me every time we touch, but I got this. I know how to hide my feelings better than the rest.

  Grayson grins. “I think I can handle it.”

  I do an exaggerated sigh. “That’s what they all say until it’s ass-kicking time.”

  “I’ll rack.”

  “Come on, Phoebe.” I hear Hailey shout behind me. “Suzie is about to cause chaos.”

  I narrow my eyes on her. “I don’t cause chaos all the time.”

  She opens her mouth, probably to disagree with me, but I give her my back. I don’t want to hear it.

  Instead, I find a pool cue, chalk up the tip, and lean over the table to break. I need a good break if I want a chance to win against Grayson, because – despite the fighting words coming out of my big mouth – the guy is an awesome pool player. I use as much force as possible to hit the cue ball. Instead of the cue ball rolling down the table to hit the nine-ball, it goes flying through the air and hits Grayson smackdab in the stomach.

  “Oomph,” he grunts as he bends over.

  “Shit. Shit. Shit.” I throw my pool cue down and rush to him. “I’m sorry. Are you okay? Do we need to go to the hospital?”

  “I’m fine,” he grunts out.

  “Suzie strikes again,” Hailey announces to the entire freaking world. I glare at her. “What?” She shrugs. “It’s true.”

  She’s not wrong. I may exaggerate how much of a klutz I am, but I am still a klutz with a capital K. But usually I reserve klutzy injuries to myself. Other people are normally safe from my klutzy ways.

  I rub Grayson’s back as he bends over taking deep breaths. “I’m fine,” he repeats.

  He sure doesn’t look fine. At least no one is here to witness this mess as the bar is mostly empty since it’s a Monday night. The uncles are playing poker in their corner booth and a couple of barflies are drinking beer at the bar, but otherwise, we have the place to ourselves.

  The door opens and the cold wind from outside whips through the bar. I look up and my eyes widen when I see who’s standing in the doorway looking unsure of herself. Liz Morris. I didn’t think she’d show. In fact, I kind of forgot about inviting her here to talk to Grayson.

  I drop my hand and walk toward her with a welcoming smile on my face. “Thanks for coming,” I tell her as I pull her into a hug.

  “Liz?” Grayson calls. He’s looking between the two of us with a frown on his face. “What are you doing here? Is Grayson all right?” He narrows his eyes on me. “And how do you know Suzie?”

  “Um.” I bite my lip. “I asked her to come.”

  A vein in Grayson’s forehead starts throbbing, but Wally steps in before he has a chance to say a word.

  Wally offers Liz his hand. “I’m Wally. And you are?” I have to hold in a snort. He knows exactly who she is.

  “Liz,” she whispers. Wally uses her hand to guide her toward the corner table where the cards and poker chips have magically disappeared. “Please, have a seat.”

  When I go to sit next to her, he stops me. “Why don’t we let Grayson and Liz chat alone?”

  We might as well sit with them. I’m going to eavesdrop no matter what. As if he knows what I’m thinking, he tilts his head toward a table on the other side of the room. Seriously? No way am I sitting on the other side of the room. I take a seat at a booth a table away from where Liz and Grayson are now sitting.

  Hailey and Phoebe join me while the uncles move to the bar.

  “What’s going on?” Phoebe whispers.

  I shush her with a slash of my hand. No talking when it’s eavesdropping time!

  “What are you doing here?” Grayson asks, and I lean back as far as possible without actually lying down to make sure I don’t miss a thing.

  “I wanted to tell you,” Liz pauses, “I don’t blame you for Bill’s death.”

  Grayson grunts. “But it is my fault he died.”

  “No, it isn’t,” she insists. “It’s those rebel forces or whatever they’re called who put the IED in the road.”

  “It should have been me.”

  “And then you would be dead.”

  “As I should be.” I can’t help it. I gasp at his words. I can’t imagine a world without Grayson in it.

  “No, you shouldn’t be.” Liz’s voice wavers.

  “But surely you wish I were dead. Then, you would ha
ve Bill back.”

  “What’s to say Bill wouldn’t have died in some other way? You don’t decide who lives and dies.”

  Someone seizes my upper arm and yanks me out of the booth before dragging me across the room. I slap at Wally’s arm. “Stop it. I was listening.”

  “You were being nosy is what you were doing. Haven’t you been nosy enough?”

  I glare at him. “You’re the one who gave me the information.”

  He cringes. “My mistake.”

  Pops pushes Wally out of the way. He grasps my hands and grins down at me. “Look, darling, I know what you’re trying to do, but it won’t work.”

  Phoebe raises her hand. “What is she trying to do?”

  “Yeah,” Hailey adds. “What the hell is going on here?”

  “If I had to guess, I’d say Suzie asked Wally to dig up Grayson’s past, and then she went nosing around in it.”

  I nod at Pops’ explanation. He hit it right on the head. Except for the nosing around part. I didn’t nose around. I conducted an investigation. Totally different.

  “Why?” Phoebe asks. “You know better than to go digging up people’s pasts. It leads to trouble.”

  I raise an eyebrow at her. “Because ignoring your past worked out super awesome for you.”

  She purses her lips but doesn’t say a word, because she knows I’m right.

  Pops squeezes my hands to gain my attention. “Darling, I know you care for Grayson, but you can’t fix him.”

  I disagree. “I can too.” I tilt my head toward the booth where they’re talking. “It’s working already.”

  “Darling, look closer. It’s not.” He releases my hands and turns me around by the shoulders. “Look at his face.”

  I study Grayson’s face. Shit. He’s right. Grayson’s jaw is clenched. I look closer. His hands are balled on his lap. Damn. He looks ready to explode. I take a step in his direction, but Pops’ hand on my shoulder stops me.

  “No. Leave it be.”

  “But—”

  “You can’t fix him,” he repeats.

  I disagree. This has to work. Once Grayson realizes Liz doesn’t blame him, he’ll lose the guilt he’s carrying around. He has to.

  Barney takes hold of my chin and forces me to look in his direction. “You can’t fix what’s ailing him.”

  Jokester Barney is being serious. Shit. This situation is worse than I thought.

  “He needs to find his own way.”

  “But he wasn’t finding his own way,” I insist.

  “Not your problem to solve.”

  I disagree. Grayson is my friend. Friends don’t let friends drown in their problems alone.

  I return my attention to Grayson and Liz sitting at the table. I watch as they stand together. Grayson helps Liz into her coat and then escorts her to the door. As soon as the door closes behind her, he marches in my direction.

  He points at me. “You had no right to stick your nose into my past!”

  I raise my hands in a gesture of surrender. “I was trying to help.”

  “By bringing up the past with Liz? Reminding her of the husband she lost?”

  I keep my lips closed. He’s crazy if he thinks my visit brought up any memories for Liz. That woman thinks about her dead husband every single dang day.

  “Who do you think you are? Digging around in my past?”

  “I’m your friend.” I try to grab his hand, but he steps out of my reach. “I wanted to help. I can tell you’re hurting.”

  “Did I ask for your help?” He doesn’t wait for my answer. “No. I did not.”

  “But you ask about my past all the time.”

  “Ask. I ask you about your past. I haven’t gone digging around. Hell, I can ask Hailey right now and you know she’d tell me everything I want to know. I won’t ask her though because I respect your privacy. Like you should have respected mine.”

  “But—”

  He raises his hand to cut me off. “I don’t want to hear it. We are done. This friendship is over.” And with those damning words, he spins on his heel and marches away. He exits the bar without a glance backward.

  A blade pierces my heart and slashes it in two. I look down but there’s no blood. There’s no blade. No, this is my heart breaking apart. The feeling is achingly familiar. It’s also a feeling I promised myself I would never feel again. But I couldn’t keep the promise to myself. Not when my heart was confronted with all that is Grayson. Shit. I messed up big time. And I don’t think I can fix this.

  Chapter 19

  I give into beer pressure

  “Ta-da!”

  At the sound, I shriek and drop the bottle I’m labeling. It crashes to the floor and breaks, spilling beer every-freaking-where. But there’s no need to use a shard of glass to attack the intruder because I recognize her annoying voice. How dare she break into my brew shack!

  My teeth clench as I ask Hailey, “How the hell did you get in here?”

  She frowns. “Don’t insult me.”

  “It’s harder than it looks,” Phoebe comments from behind Hailey. “Hailey tried to show me how to pick the lock, but I couldn’t figure it out.”

  Hailey pats her arm. “Don’t worry. You’ll get the hang of it with some practice.”

  “I should have used the deadbolt.”

  Hailey raises her fist. “A challenge! I like it.”

  Of course, she thinks circumventing a deadbolt lock is a challenge. And everyone is convinced I’m the crazy one. “What are you two doing here anyway?”

  Hailey rolls her eyes. “Duh. We’re here to cheer you up.”

  Phoebe removes a bottle from her bag and lifts it up over her head. “I brought vodka!”

  I indicate the bottles and bottles of beer on the wall.

  “Those are for you to sell and become a famous female brewer. This,” she taps the bottle, “is for drinking.” She sets her bag on my labeling station. “I also brought shot glasses and snacks.”

  “You brought snacks?”

  “Of course. This is how you cheer your best girlfriend up, remember? If I recall correctly, we start by plying you with questions about your past until you cry. Then, we sit around and watch movies while drinking and eating too much.”

  Hailey rubs her hands together in glee. “But instead of asking a ton of questions about your past, we get to pry into your relationship with Grayson.”

  Oh no, they don’t. I snarl, but before I can tell them where they can shove it, Hailey raises her palm and practically shoves it in my face. “Stop. You are not keeping this to yourself. I’d say you’ve kept enough to yourself as it is.”

  Phoebe pauses with unloading her bag of snacks on the table. “And the uncles and Pops wouldn’t tell us a thing. Who was the woman and why did her arrival make Grayson throw your friendship in your face?”

  Ugh. I should have known I wouldn’t get away with hiding in my brew shack from the two nosy women. “Pick up your stuff. If we’re doing this shit, we’re not doing it in my brew shack.”

  “But I’ve never been in here before,” Hailey pouts. “I want a tour.”

  I sweep my arm in a circle around the garage. “This is my brew shack. I brew beer here. End of tour.”

  “I’m not tipping for your tour. It sucked,” Hailey whines.

  “Shush. Don’t be rude.” Phoebe is seriously worried about being rude? Did she forget she literally broke into my brew shake five minutes ago?

  They follow me into my house where we settle in the living room. Phoebe unloads her bag on the coffee table. Don’t tell her I said so, but she did good. Cool Ranch Doritos, Pringles, Cookie Dough Ice Cream. Mmm…

  “Vodka?” Hailey wrinkles her nose in disgust. “Where’s the tequila?”

  “Tequila is for the lower class,” Phoebe says, and then her eyes widen, and she slaps her hand over her mouth. “I’m sorry. I don’t know where those words came from.”

  I raise my hand. “I do. Your mother.”

  Phoebe’s mom put the B
in bitch. She hasn’t bothered to attempt contact with Phoebe once since all the scary shit with Phoebe got started. I think Phoebe’s better off without the woman, to be honest.

  While Phoebe sputters around blushing and being embarrassed about her faux pas, I walk to my kitchen and find a bottle of tequila and some bowls. I scoop half the ice cream into my bowl and sit back to enjoy it. I know the quiet won’t last long. I can see out of the corner of my eye Hailey is bursting to start throwing questions at me.

  Best to get this shit over with. I wave my spoon at her. “You may begin.”

  “Who was the woman at the bar? How is she connected to Grayson? What did he mean when he accused you of digging into his past?”

  My stomach sours at her questions. I place my bowl on the coffee table no longer in the mood to eat my way through my depression. What I need to do is ask the uncles to put a security system in at my brew shack to stop Hailey from breaking in and asking her nosy questions again. Oh, who am I kidding? Those same uncles are the ones who taught her how to burglarize.

  “It’s okay.” Phoebe pats my shoulder. “You don’t have to tell us if you don’t want to.”

  Hailey gasps. “Are you kidding? Of course, she has to tell us. We’re her friends. She has to spill her guts to us. It’s in the girlfriend handbook!”

  I pat Phoebe’s thigh. “Thanks, but you and I both know I’m going to have to reveal my secrets or someone is going to lose her mind.”

  “The woman in the bar was Liz Morris. Her husband was Grayson’s best friend. He was killed in action and Grayson blames himself,” I start and then tell them all about Grayson’s past. He won’t thank me for revealing his secrets, but there’s no way I’m going to get out of here alive if I don’t tattle.

  “Wow.” Hailey shakes her head. “Heavy. Poor guy.”

  “It explains why he’s been off lately, though,” Phoebe comments.

  “Exactly!” I shout. “He’s been depressed. I needed to take matters into my own hands.”

  Phoebe raises a hand for me to stop. “Hold up. Grayson didn’t tell you any of this himself?”

  “No wonder he made the ‘You had no right to dig your nose into my past!’ comment,” Hailey says in a deep voice in the worst impression of Grayson ever. “What did you do?”