Hard to Lose (The Play Hard Series Book 4)

by K. Bromberg

  “What did you do?”

  “What didn’t I do?” He laughs. “It’s taken many years and a lot of her love to make me the refined man you see today.”

  “Oh please,” I say but smile, loving how he still talks about her all these years later like she’s still here, still a part of our lives.

  “I kissed another woman.”

  I stare at my dad as if he’d grown two heads. “You what?” I shriek, shocked.

  “I never claimed I was smart, Chase.” He chuckles. “We had been dating for a few months when we had a fight. It was over her father thinking I wasn’t good enough to be with her, and I believe she told me I needed to step up to the plate and be that man then.”

  I smile through the tears. “That sounds like Mom.”

  “It sounds like you,” he murmurs and holds my gaze.

  “Anyway, I went to the bar and got drunk because, screw your grandpa. No one was ever good enough for his daughter type of thing. Anyway, the alcohol wasn’t an excuse by any means, but there was a woman there who was hitting on me, and I was feeling sorry for myself. When she leaned in for a kiss, I didn’t say no.”

  Is it ridiculous that despite all the years that have passed, I gasp when he says that?

  “It was just a peck, but when I looked up, your mom was there with fire in her posture and hurt in her eyes. It was that moment with her chin trembling that I knew I’d move heaven and earth to figure out how to be the man her dad thought she deserved. The man she deserved.”

  “I don’t understand why you’re telling me this, Dad.”

  “Because if Gunner’s worth it, then fight. Fight for what you have. For the relationship. The friendship. For the stolen moments that make you miss him the most right now.” He puts the picture frame down in front of me so that I am forced to look at the image of my mom. “If I hadn’t fought to apologize, to redeem myself, to win her back after my stupid mistake, none of this would ever have been.”

  “It’s not the same. It’s—”

  “Isn’t it, though? You live in a black and white world, sweetie. It’s okay to fight for the one who adds color to it.”

  “I can’t fight for someone who doesn’t want to be fought for.”

  He smiles and nods. “It’s hard asking someone with a broken heart to fall in love again. Especially when you’re the one who broke it in the first place . . . but if the person means that much to you, you’ll fight like hell to salvage what you have.”

  CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

  Gunner

  “What can I get for you?” I ask the cute little brunette, who sidled up to the bar while I was in the back getting more ice.

  “Water, please.” She laughs and turns to rub her pregnant belly.

  “Sorry. I didn’t see there were two of you,” I say, wondering why a pregnant woman came into a bar by herself. “One water it is.”

  I pour her a cup of iced water and then slide it across the bar to her.

  “Thanks.”

  “Waiting for someone else tonight or just need to get off your feet for a bit?” I ask, making conversation since the bar is slow tonight, something I’m more than fine with.

  “I was heading into work—at the hotel—and I thought I’d stop in to see how Chase was.”

  Her words startle me. “Chase?”

  “Yes.” She smiles sweetly. “I know she came in here often while she was staying at the hotel, so forgive me for assuming you might know where she is and if she found him.”

  My tongue feels heavy in my mouth. “Found who?”

  “The baseball guy,” she says. Her naivete’s in her favor as my stomach twists in knots.

  “What baseball guy?”

  “The one who wrote the letter she had.”

  I swear the rest of the noise in the bar fades away, as I stare at this unexpected guest like she’s the only one in the place.

  “Why?”

  Her smile is sheepish and her cheeks heat. “Because I thought it had the makings to be the most romantic story I’d ever heard.”

  Now she definitely has my interest.

  “What do you mean?”

  “A letter lost in the mail for five years from a soldier in a faraway land. A message never intended for her and yet when she held it in her hand, she said she felt a connection to the soldier, to the man. Indescribable. That was the only way she could describe him. I didn’t get to talk to her much about it, but I really liked that because of this bond she felt, she couldn’t rest until she found, met him, and knew he was okay. So she came here. I think someone had told her not to ask too many questions, as well. You know how it is. We’re protective of our own. But can you imagine being in the town with this long-lost soldier, and trying to hold your tongue?” She takes a sip of water and I stare at her, my pulse racing and my heart pounding in my ears. “It’s like a Nicholas Sparks novel.”

  “Who?”

  “Romance.” She smiles. “I read a lot while I work the night shift,” she explains. “I wanted to see how her story ended. Did Chase find him and was the connection real? Did they fall in love and run away together and live happily ever after?” She shrugs and sighs in a way that makes me want to believe she’s right.

  But I know she’s right.

  I lived it.

  And even though I lived it and know the pain, even though I wrote the letter to try and get over her, the dull ache in my chest won’t go away.

  At first, I thought it was heartache. Heartbreak.

  But now I’m beginning to think it’s my heart waiting to beat again.

  It’s my heart reminding me it’s waiting for her.

  Because despite everything, I miss her. I still love her.

  “So do you know what happened? Did she find him?”

  I look at her and smile. “She found him and after a few hiccups, a breakup where he pushed her away and then was miserable for longer than he ever thought possible, he decided it was time to chase after her.”

  “So did they end up with their happily ever after?” Her eyes are expressive and her smile is wide.

  “I don’t know yet, but I plan on giving it a damn good try.”

  CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

  Chase

  “I have no problem going to lunch with you, Dekker, but if you order some off-the-wall pregnancy craving again, I’m walking out.”

  “What’s wrong with liking French fries with sweet and sour sauce?” she asks, as I do a mock gagging motion in my mouth.

  “For that alone, I’m picking where we’re going,” I say and stop in the middle of our office building’s lobby to search on my phone for somewhere to go.

  “Who the hell is that hot hunk of a man?” Dekker mumbles and nudges me with her elbow.

  “You’re married and pregnant. Shouldn’t you be satisfied with your own husband?”

  “I’m not talking about me. I’m talking about for you. Perfect rebound material at that.”

  “I’m not interested.”

  “But he’s walking this way.”

  “Great. Good for him. He can keep on walking for all I care,” I finish, just as his shoes come into view. I keep my eyes focused on my phone and Dekker sucks in a breath. “Thanks, but I don’t want any,” I say without ever looking his way.

  “Not even a dance in the rain?”

  My breath hitches at the sound of his voice.

  “Gunner.” My voice is a whisper as I look up to meet his eyes. God, I missed those eyes. The deep brown of them and the compassion and spark in them. “You’re here.”

  He nods and his Adam’s apple bobs. “I don’t know what is up or down anymore since you picked up my world and tilted it off its axis. All I know is it’s not the same without you in it.”

  A shuddered sense of hope begins to flutter.

  “I’ve spent days, weeks, trying to understand what you did and how you did it. I don’t think I’ll ever understand the why behind it, but last night I came to realize the why doesn’t matter as much as I thought
it did. The why is what brought you into my life. The why made me feel in ways I’d never felt before. You made me feel in ways I’ve never felt before.”

  “I feel the same way,” I whisper. My heart beats so hard I feel like it’s going to fall out of my chest. “But before you say anything else, I have to tell you that you were right. I was there for the things you said—the dog and pony show and all that. For that, I’m ashamed and sorry because I never saw the other side of it. I never thought about how you’d see it. So you were right and I’m sorry. I’m not that person anymore—”

  “Hey.” He steps into me and frames my face with his hands, and it takes everything I have not to sag into his touch. Words escape me as that fluttering hope morphs into full-blown anticipation. Please still love me.

  “Gunner.”

  He presses his lips to mine and kisses me with the same longing I’ve felt.

  Things I never thought were possible—emotions, feelings, love—surge inside of me from the simple touch of his lips.

  “Neither of us are the same. We changed each other.” He wipes a tear off my cheek with his thumb.

  “But how do we do this? You live in Destiny—”

  “We figure it out, because the only thing that matters is this. Us. We’re the only ones who can write our own story. Chase, the only person I want to write my happily ever after with is you.” He presses his lips to mine again, and then whispers, “You broke my heart. You shattered it into a million tiny pieces, but you know what? When you left, when I was left in a world without you, I realized that was never your intention. I believe you. I believe that you would never have deliberately tried to hurt me. And you’re one of the few people in my life who I can say that about.”

  “It’s true. I didn’t mean to—”

  “I still love you, Chase Kincade. I can’t let you go. I won’t let you go. No regrets?”

  Tears spring to my eyes as Gunner wraps his arms around me and pulls me in against him.

  “No regrets.”

  And standing in the middle of the lobby with business people walking all around us, oblivious to how life-changing this moment is for us, I’ve never felt more complete.

  More loved.

  More at home.

  EPILOGUE

  Chase

  Eighteen Months Later

  The night air tickles my hair against my cheeks, as I lean against the railing with what I’m sure is a ridiculously goofy grin on my lips.

  Sure, I’ve had a few or maybe a lot of glasses of wine tonight to aid in the goofiness of that grin, but it’s not just the alcohol that’s bolstered it.

  It’s this.

  All of this.

  The twinkly lights overhead as Brexton and her new husband, Drew, dance the night away. I’m surprised her wedding dress even touches the ground with how high her head is in the clouds tonight. Then there’s Drew and the look in his eyes—complete and utter adoration—every time he looks at her.

  Laughter to the left of the dance floor draws my eyes to where my eldest sister, Dekker, is swaying to the beat of the music. Her husband, Hunter, stands behind her, his arms around her, and his chin on her shoulder as they watch my one-year-old nephew attempt to dance with his aunt Lennox.

  But instead of dancing, he keeps getting distracted by Lennox’s pregnant belly, his hands reaching up to touch it and hopefully feel my soon-to-be niece kick. Because in pure Lennox fashion, she’s wearing a devastatingly snug and sexy dress, despite her eight-months-pregnant swollen belly.

  And then there is her husband, Rush, sitting at the table beside where Lennox is dancing. He has a ghost of a smile on his handsome face, his eyes rarely move from her. It’s quite a sight to see the bad boy head over heels with the woman who never took love seriously.

  And if that’s not the pot calling the kettle black, I don’t know what is as my eyes skim to the seat across from Rush, to see Gunner sitting there, enjoying taking it all in.

  My Gunner.

  The man I never expected, the man I never wanted, but the one who looks at me every damn time with that same reverence, that same love.

  How has it been over a year since I found him? It feels like yesterday and forever all at the same time. How did I not know how incomplete I felt until him?

  Sure, we’ve struggled at times as we settled into our new normal with my traveling to and from New York every other week to take care of my work, but I know there is nothing—nothing—that would ever change the irrevocable love I have for him.

  “How’s my girl?” my dad asks, sliding an arm around my shoulder.

  “Your girl is just having a sappy moment to herself,” I say and rest my head on his shoulder.

  “I didn’t think my Chase had sappy moments in her.” He presses a kiss to my head, the teasing tone of his voice making me smile.

  “I found them somewhere. There are times I wish I hadn’t.”

  “Ah, but those sappy moments are what makes life, kiddo. They make it beautiful and tragic and meaningful and unforgettable. All those moments stacked on top of each other are what make you feel and love and live.”

  He pauses, as I take in his words and know they’re right, because how could they not be? When I look at Gunner, I know I want to keep stacking those moments, one upon another, until we have a life carved out for ourselves.

  “She would have loved this, you know?” he continues, his voice soft, reminiscent, and so full of love. “She would have loved watching her girls grow and love and become mothers themselves. I’m so sorry she didn’t get a chance to see it, but I have a feeling she’s had a strong hand in guiding it.”

  I sniff away the tears that are blurring my eyes. “Now look who’s being sappy,” I tease, knowing how very right he is.

  She would have loved every minute of this. The tiny details in planning Brex’s wedding. The traveling to the UK to visit Lennox and have one-on-one time with her. The spoiling of her first grandson and passing on motherly advice to Dekker. The knowing when she looked in my eyes how truly happy Gunner makes me.

  “Yeah, she would have loved it, Dad. Every crazy minute of it. But you’re right, she helped plan all this in some way, whether through what she instilled in us in the short time we had with her or in some other magical way . . . because I feel her more now than I ever have.”

  And I do.

  Between that thought and the sight of my family happy and healthy in front of me, my heart has never been fuller.

  So full it’s almost bursting.

  “I know. I know,” he says.

  Gunner looks across the distance and his eyes meet mine. His soft smile is all I need in this world. Just that and him.

  “I love you,” he mouths to me, and I pat over my heart in response.

  The DJ interrupts the moment and announces it’s time for the bouquet toss. “That’s you,” my dad says, as he puts a hand on my back to guide me to the dance floor.

  “I’ll let some other woman catch the damn flowers.” I laugh as we step onto the dance floor.

  “You’ll do no such thing,” he states emphatically. “It’s called tradition, Chase. Just suck it up, stand there, and take part in it.”

  “Save me,” I mouth to Gunner, who’s having a good laugh watching my dad practically hold me in place.

  The DJ goes through the instructions of where to line up and what to do. I stand in the crowd as Brexton turns her back to us and the DJ does a countdown.

  Three.

  Two.

  One.

  But instead of throwing the bouquet, my sister turns and walks toward the lot of us. We all turn to look around, confused and thinking something has happened. Especially when she puts the bouquet directly into my hands.

  “What? No. That’s not how this works. You don’t get to pick who gets these. You don’t get to choose—”

  “But he does,” she says with tears welling in her eyes and a smile on her lips that has chills chasing down my spine.

  “What—Who—Brex—�
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  When she looks over my shoulder and gives an even softer smile to the person behind me, I turn, confused.

  And the rest of my thoughts are knocked out of my head just like the breath that’s lost at the sight before me.

  The crowd of ladies has separated, and Gunner Camden is on one knee before me. His eyes are swimming with a love that’s uniquely ours, and his smile says I’m all he sees. All he knows. All he wants.

  “Gunner . . .”

  “You’re a hard one to corral, Chase Kincade. From the moment I met you, you told me that love wasn’t your thing. That kisses are overrated. That being with someone wasn’t on your oh-so-busy agenda.” He chuckles with the slightest shake of his head. “But somehow I proved you otherwise. Somehow, I was able to break through that very motivated brain of yours and show you that you can still be you with your aspirations and ambition while loving me.”

  “Gunner,” I whisper through tears I’m not remotely trying to fight.

  “So when I asked your dad and your sisters for your hand in marriage, I told them this might be a hard one for you to accept. Tying you to me for life is a big step for a woman who didn’t have time for love to begin with. But they agreed with me. They told me that somehow, we—you and I—were better together. That somehow, our two broken and jagged halves made one incredible whole.”

  I glance up to the body of Kincades behind him. My dad. Dekker. Brexton. Lennox. And the honorary Kincades, the men in their lives, who have completed my sisters and our family in ways we all never expected. All of them have smiles on their faces and hope in their eyes.

  I’ve never felt more loved.

  I’ve never felt less alone.

  “And I tend to agree with them. There’s no one else I’d rather go through life with, Chase. There’s no one I want to fight and make up with, to love and laugh with, to sit and hold their hand in silence with. It’s always been you. Maybe that’s why that letter found its way to you all those years later. Maybe not. But something greater than us has worked in our favor since the get-go, so who am I to question it?”