Every Sweet Regret: Orchid Valley, Book 2

by Ryan, Lexi

  Bobby was mortified. He was angry I hadn’t told him. But you know what made him even angrier? I’d done these videos but hadn’t once given it up to him in the months we’d been together. As if one had anything to do with the other. As if my mistake meant he should’ve been entitled to unlimited pussy from the beginning.

  Anyway . . . it was ugly, with lots of tears and accusations, and Bobby called a cab to take me to the airport. Told me to have my stuff out of his apartment before he got home. Said he was looking for a life with a nice girl, and I was just a deceitful bitch. He told me he’d rather live alone the rest of his life than let a whore like me raise his children.

  I think that’s the part that hurt the most. Because Bobby was one of the few guys I’ve ever been with who actually talked about a future with kids with me. I want kids. I want to be a mom someday, but before Bobby, no one believed I was mother material. And once he got that link, he didn’t either.

  I probably should’ve told him sooner. The truth is, I may have consented to those videos, but I never would’ve agreed to share them with the world. And now they’re floating out there, and there’s nothing I can do to get rid of them.

  Luckily for me, there’s a lot of cheap homemade porn on the internet, and my stuff isn’t particularly special. But it’s there, and that’s bad enough.

  I know this thing between us is nowhere near the point where you’re wondering if I’m “mother material,” but every time I catch myself hoping this could go somewhere, I remember those damn videos and I imagine the look on your face if you ever accidentally stumbled upon them.

  I wanted you to hear it from me.

  My phone is quiet for too long after I press send. My stomach’s in my throat, and my hands tremble. This is definitely not what he had in mind when he said he’d listen. He probably expected something along the lines of I always wanted to be an artist. Instead, he got my baggage. Why do I always have to dive in headfirst?

  When my phone buzzes to alert me to his reply, I almost don’t want to look. Of course, I do.

  GoodHands69: I am so sorry. I can’t wrap my brain around a guy treating a woman like that. Posting those videos was a violation, and Bobby treating you like that when he found out was unnecessarily cruel. You deserved better.

  The screen blurs, and hot tears streak across my cheeks at those final three words: You deserved better. That’s what I’ve been trying to tell myself, but after a series of mistakes and bad relationships, I started to wonder if maybe I didn’t deserve better. Coming from Kace, I can almost believe it.

  ItsyBitsy123: Thank you. It means a lot.

  GoodHands69: What’d you do? After Bobby called you a cab, I mean. I assume you moved out, but . . .

  ItsyBitsy123: I was so embarrassed. I thought this guy loved me, but obviously not enough. I didn’t want to go home and have everyone ask why I left early. So I had the cab take me to this run-down little motel across the street from the beach. I stayed there for a few nights, then caught an early flight home so I could move out of his place.

  GoodHands69: Good for you. I’m so sorry that happened.

  ItsyBitsy123: Don’t tell anyone, okay? It’s just more evidence that I have shitty judgment in general, and I’d be so embarrassed if everyone knew those videos are out there.

  GoodHands69: I can keep a secret.

  My heart is in my throat. It’s done. He knows. I don’t know if I would’ve had the courage to tell him any way but through this computer, but without seeing him in front of me, it’s impossible to gauge his reaction. I’ll have to see him in person before I can truly believe this doesn’t change how he feels about me.

  GoodHands69: I don’t know a single person who hasn’t made a mistake. Don’t beat yourself up for being human.

  Gratitude and fondness and relief all tangle together in my chest.

  ItsyBitsy123: If you didn’t have Hope tonight, I’d be over there right now climbing you like a tree.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Stella

  Moving day comes, and Kace is the first to arrive. He pulls into Mom’s driveway before seven. I meet him at the door, but he doesn’t stop walking—just grabs my hand and heads straight to my bedroom, kicking the door shut behind him before pressing me against it and kissing me hard. His hands are all over me, as if he’s trying to touch everywhere at once and can’t get enough, and his mouth is relentless. He kisses me like he’s dying and I’m the only thing that can save him.

  When he finally breaks the kiss, we’re both breathless. “You don’t know how many times this week I had to make myself keep driving when I was passing here or your work. I wanted to stop the car, come in, and do that.” He leans his forehead against mine and grins. “I want you so much.”

  “You do?” I ask. I can’t keep the insecurities from my voice. “Even though I have . . . baggage?”

  “More than ever,” he says, and his voice is heavy with meaning.

  My heart swells. Maybe it wasn’t fair to think he’d push me away once he found out about the videos. Maybe I didn’t give him enough credit. “I want you too.”

  He groans and grips my hips. “When can I finally have you alone again?”

  I eye the boxes stacked all around us. “Not until we get this move done.”

  Straightening, he smacks my ass, leaving a pleasant sting behind. “Then get moving, woman.”

  * * *

  Between Kace’s truck and Dean’s, my car, and the girls’ vehicles, we managed to move my embarrassingly few possessions in one trip and less than four hours. By the time lunch rolled around, Dean was already back at Mom’s, tearing up carpet and nagging Kace to help. Kace joined him—probably because the girls were here anyway, helping themselves to his pool, and he couldn’t get me naked until they left. Once they were out the door, I barely got to say a word before Kace was on me, hand up my shirt, mouth on mine, fierce and possessive. Hungry. I lost my shirt and bra before we made it to the bathroom, and he didn’t even finish undressing before he pulled me under the hot spray and kneeled before me, his hands on my hips and his mouth everywhere.

  “I was beginning to think I was never going to get you back in this bed again,” Kace says Saturday evening. We’re in his bed, completely naked and satisfied after the most glorious shower in the history of mankind. He swallows, scanning my face again. He can’t seem to stop looking at me, and I love that. “Listen, I know you don’t want to hear about the other woman I’m talking to.” I stiffen, and he chuckles softly. “Okay, that just proves my point. But I think we need to make something clear before this goes any further.”

  My heart stumbles into a whole different kind of racing than it was doing just a minute ago, and I sit up in bed. I’m naked and too vulnerable to have this conversation while he’s holding me. “Okay.”

  “You’re the only one I’m in a sexual relationship with, and that’ll be true until this ends.”

  The cocktail of relief and disappointment has me feeling a little unsteady. I don’t want him seeing anyone else while we’re together. But knowing he still considers this temporary cuts a little too deep.

  He takes a breath. “I’m not someone who can sleep with two people at the same time.”

  “Me neither,” I admit.

  His brows shoot up, as if this surprises him, and I try not to take offense. “You’re not seeing anyone else?”

  A lot of women have multiple partners at once, and as long as everyone’s safe, there’s nothing wrong with that. But why does he assume I would? I shake my head. “Only you, Kace.”

  “Thank God.” He sighs and drags a hand over his face. “I can’t share you, Stella. Even if this is a fling.” He shakes his head. “For as long as this lasts, I need it to be just us. Are you okay with that?”

  It’s such an absurd question. I’d laugh if it didn’t also prove he still doesn’t quite understand me. Despite everything. “Believe it or not, I’m a fan of monogamy.”

  He grabs me around the waist and pulls me back
down onto the bed with him before lowering his mouth to mine and kissing me hard. “Call me old-fashioned, but you’ve made my fucking week.”

  I laugh, though my emotions are too heavy and tangled for the sound to be light. “So you and this other girl . . .”

  “We met on Random, and she’s fun. I like talking to her, and I think she’s been good for me, but . . .” He frowns as if he can’t figure out how to say what he’s thinking.

  “But what?”

  “I guess it’s just I know enough about her now that I’m sure we’ll never be more than friends.” He shrugs. “Some things are just deal breakers.”

  And somehow my baggage isn’t? “So it’s just you and me?”

  He nuzzles my neck, scratching me with his beard. “At least until your brother finds out and castrates me.”

  Meaning I’m still your dirty secret. But I don’t say it. This is so much more than I ever could’ve imagined, and I need to take what he’s giving me with both hands and make the most of it.

  “Kace?” a woman calls from the hall. “Where are you?”

  I freeze. “Is that Amy?”

  He looks over his shoulder toward the opening bedroom door—just as Amy steps into view.

  “Oh. I—”

  “Out,” he snaps.

  Amy doesn’t move. She stands in the doorway to Kace’s bedroom and stares at me like I’m a roach she’s found crawling across her food. “Hi, Stella.”

  I try to think of something to say but only manage a squeak.

  “Out,” Kace repeats, angling his body over mine to block me from her view.

  “I thought you said you two weren’t involved,” Amy says.

  Growling, he grabs the blanket and pulls it over me even as he rolls off the bed and walks bare-ass naked to shut the door in her face.

  Once she’s not staring at me anymore, I recapture control of my motor functions and jump out of bed, scrambling for my jeans. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Kace. I know you didn’t want anyone to find out about us, and—”

  “Stella.” He grabs the hand that’s reaching for my jeans and pulls me toward him. “You do not owe me an apology. Not at all.”

  My shaking hands are only a mirror of what’s happening inside me. I like that he tried to protect me from her angry gaze, but a little voice in the back of my mind is shouting that there’s a red flag here. I was surprised he tried to protect me, surprised he didn’t try to pretend nothing was happening, surprised he was harsh with her and kind to me. How screwed up is that?

  I swallow. “I don’t know where my shirt is.” Probably somewhere in the hall where he stripped me. “Can I borrow one? I’ll get out of here so you two can talk.”

  He pulls a Falcons T-shirt from his dresser and hands it to me. “I understand if you want to go, but don’t run away because you think you have to. This is my house, and you’re my guest. She’s the one who showed up uninvited.”

  “I guess you two are even now,” I whisper. I pull the shirt on over my head. “Tit for tat, right?”

  “How do you . . . ?” He shakes his head, then mutters something about Smithy before sighing. “This was one score I never needed to settle.” Grabbing me by the hips, he tugs me toward him and presses a kiss to my lips. “I don’t want you to go.”

  “I don’t think the conversation she wants to have will go any smoother if I’m here.” I step back, away from his warmth. “Anyway, I’m supposed to meet the girls tonight, remember?” I paste on a smile. “I should go get pretty.”

  He sweeps his eyes over me. “You’re already stunning.”

  A shiver of happiness trembles through me. I grab his cotton shorts from the floor and hand them to him.

  He pulls them on. “Come over after you get home?”

  I grin. “Why? What do you have in mind?”

  His eyes go so hot that I’m surprised my clothes don’t spontaneously combust. “I think what’s in my mind is best when shown.”

  Those nervous tremors in my tummy morph into butterflies. “I’ll be here.”

  I straighten my shoulders as I open the bedroom door, but luckily Amy isn’t in the hall or anywhere in the path between Kace’s bedroom and the back door.

  * * *

  Kace

  Leave it to my ex-wife to be the biggest cockblocker in my life. I’m pissed. Not just because of the way she looks at and treats Stella, but because she walked right into my room like she had any right to do that.

  I find her on the front porch swing, vaping. “What is that?” I ask.

  “A vape pen.”

  I repress an eye roll. “I know that part. I mean, why would you start such a nasty habit?” I lean against the house, keeping my distance from her and her vapor. “Haven’t you read the studies?”

  “Sure, but I don’t do it much, and never around Hope.” She shrugs.

  “Where is Hope?” I want to say, Why the fuck are you here and walking into my house like you own the place? But we’ll start with the easy stuff.

  “She’s with my mom.” Amy’s expression is too serious. I haven’t seen a look like that on her face since she told me she wanted a divorce.

  “Why are you here?”

  She takes another puff on her vape pen and shrugs. “I thought we could hang out. We haven’t in a while.”

  Hang out? I know she wants us to be friends, but—

  “So . . . Stella?” Her arched brow speaks volumes. It’s Amy’s signature You’re fucking kidding me, right? face. “Is that really happening?”

  I shove my hands in my pockets. I’m not going to give her the specifics about my love life. I don’t owe those to her, and I wouldn’t do that to Stella. “It’s not really your business, Amy.”

  Her jaw drops. “Bullshit. Anyone you bring around my daughter is, in fact, my business.”

  “This from the woman who insisted I sign up for a hookup app and give sleeping with a stranger a try.”

  “That’s different! You don’t bring hookups home. You certainly don’t move them into your backyard.” She hops off the swing and paces in front of me. “She’s so clever, finding her way in with you like that.”

  I sigh. “Didn’t we already have this conversation?”

  She stops pacing and glares at me. “She always hated me. Always wanted me out of the picture so she could have you for herself, and now she’s going to be living with you—”

  “Not with us. Living in the pool house.”

  “—and she’s going to feed you all kinds of poison about me. Maybe she’ll feed that poison to Hope too.” She folds her arms and hugs herself tight.

  “I never meant for this to happen, but—”

  “You accidentally fucked her?” Her eyes are blazing with anger.

  “Since when do you care who I fuck?” I’ve never raised my voice at Amy. Never. Until just now.

  “Since you decided to pick the worst possible option.”

  “She’s not what you think. Not at all. You were so wrong about what happened at Allegiance. There was nothing between her and Clint but Clint being a handsy douche.”

  Her gaze snaps up to mine, and I swear there’s panic in those blue eyes. “Is that what she said? And you believed her? What else did she tell you about Allegiance?”

  “Why do you care so much?”

  She bites her bottom lip, leaving a mark. “I want to know what lies she’s spreading about me.”

  “What the hell is your problem with Stella, and why are you so convinced she has it out for you?” I stare at her. There was a time in my life that I could read everything on that face. I could tell if she was hiding something or just stressed by body language alone. But it’s been years since we had that kind of connection, and I can’t for the life of me figure out what’s behind this uncharacteristic tantrum.

  “I don’t trust her.” She drops her arms and gives me a small smile. “Come on, Kace. This is Dean’s little sister. You know how she is. You’ve always been so careful about what influences Hope. Just . .
. think with your head and not your dick on this one. She’s trouble.”

  “You’re wrong about Stella. She’s had some bumps along the way, but she’s not the party girl I grew up with. She’s . . .” I sigh. “She’s one of the most caring, thoughtful people I know. I’m sorry you don’t see what I see, but this isn’t about you.”

  “There are hundreds of women who’d do anything for a chance with a guy like you, and you’re giving everything to the first piece of ass who gives you a lick of attention.”

  I rock back on my heels. “I need you to leave. I already told you I won’t let you talk about her like that. She doesn’t deserve it.”

  Amy stares at me for a long time, eyes rimmed with tears, bottom lip trembling. Finally, she swallows and walks to her car.

  I stand there and watch until she pulls away, turns the corner, and drives out of sight, and then I head inside to my computer.

  I have an important message to send.

  Chapter Twenty

  Stella

  Smithy’s is packed. Even the outside patio is standing room only. Then again, it’s a beautiful Saturday evening and this is the best bar in town—though I might be biased.

  I spot the girls in a booth at the back and work my way through the crowd to get to them. Looks like everyone is here. Brinley’s looking hot in a blue halter, and Savannah’s showing off her perfectly sculpted shoulders in a strapless top. Abbi’s the least flashy, as always, in a soft pink T-shirt that says, I drink coffee and I know things. I don’t remember the last time we all made it to girls’ night, but I’m glad to see their gorgeous faces.

  “Stella!” Brinley shouts, spotting me before the others do. “We were starting to worry.”

  “Sorry I’m late.” I slide into the booth beside Abbi. “I was . . .” Shit. I can’t finish that sentence honestly. Reluctantly, I settle on a lie. “I was studying.”