Love Me Always

by Peyton Banks

“It was a mutual breakup.”

  It’d been a long time since I’d thought about him, but she had a point. If I were to welcome a man into my life, someone like Tony would fit in the bill. He had fit the bill because the two months I was with him was the only time I’d ever dared to think about a happily-ever-after. I’d only gone on six dates with him, convincing myself he was the one—right until I’d found out he was going to move to another college to be near his family after that semester. Long distance? No way. He’d offered, but it wasn’t what I’d ever had in mind for romance. Besides, my schooling was only going to get heavier and harder. It had been the best for both of us to part ways.

  “Bet he’s married with a horde of kids now,” I murmured.

  “Uh-huh.” Teresa nodded and looped her arm with mine to walk away from the llamas. Seemed twenty minutes was her limit for seeing the llamas. “But hey, at least you got a taste of him back then.”

  A taste? Mmm…no. We’d gotten and given each other more than mere tastes. “Umm. Uh…huh.”

  Jesus. Just thinking back to how good that man was between the sheets had my cheeks warming. And those times were a decade old down memory lane.

  “You know what they say about regrets and all,” she teased.

  “What about you?” Teresa liked to sample men, but I’d always been curious why she never sought a longer taste of any of the flavors she tried.

  “Meh.” She shrugged. “I’ve got high standards as well.”

  I giggled and nodded.

  “But you know who just accepted my friend request?”

  I raised my brows at her.

  “Your brother.”

  I frowned. “Aaron?”

  “One and only.”

  Really? Maybe he truly was getting over his divorce if he was seeking women. Especially his big sister’s friends. “Huh.”

  “That’s all? Huh?”

  “Well…” Visions of Teresa as my sister-in-law flooded my mind. Like she’d actually hook up with my younger brother and only sibling. “He just took a job in Miami.”

  It was part of his strategy to get over his ex-wife—relocating to a city far from New York. “It’s in security. I flew down there with him last weekend to help him pick an apartment. Met his boss, too. Mav somebody.” I fanned at myself. “He’s no Tony but holy hot bodyguard.”

  “Eh. We’d probably drive each other crazy if we were really sisters.” She elbowed me playfully. “’Cuz you’re such an addict to your phone.” She slapped it into my hand, returning it as promised.

  “Thanks.”

  “Go on. Check it out. The world still goes on without your phone at hand every second of the day…”

  As soon as we rounded the corner to the main walkway of the stables, any comeback I had forming fled my mind.

  I froze.

  A wide, metal gated door swung open, like a barricade to the hallway in the middle of all the stalls.

  “Uh…” Teresa cocked her head.

  My heart rate sped up as I peered at the door. “What…”

  It hadn’t been like that when we’d come in here. All the doors and gates had been shut. Locked, I’d hoped. The one was wide open, almost blocking us as the panel had stopped perpendicular against the opposite wall of wood.

  “How come that’s open?” Teresa asked, releasing me and walking toward the gate.

  Someone was in here? A staff member? I darted my gaze back and forth, checking over my shoulder. Was someone going to catch us in here when we weren’t supposed to be? Shit. This was why I never broke the rules. The stables were closed, and we shouldn’t have come in here.

  I grimaced, panicking, and faced the opened gate again. A patter of footsteps sounded, and I hustled to Teresa as she leaned over the opened gate.

  A baby goat, white with black speckles and a black head, sauntered from its pen. Its open pen.

  “Oh, fuck.” Teresa and I watched the short goat speed into a trot down the hall and out the doors through which we’d entered a half an hour ago.

  “I thought you shut the entrance door!” With a hefty push, Teresa pushed the gate closed and we ran outside.

  Shut the d— Well, yeah. There was a saying about closing a door unless you were raised in a barn and something like that. I was a city girl. Barn quotes weren’t in my repertoire. But I’d entered the stables first. She should have shut the main door!

  The moon still hung in the dark sky, clearly illuminating the graceful grounds. Threatening clouds gathered in the distance, but the moonlight was plenty bright for us to see what seemed like hundreds of baby goats as they frolicked. Some nibbled on flowers. Others plowed over white chairs. A few were strutting and bumping heads on top of the table where the bridal gifts were to be placed. Under the wooden arbor, two taller goats clamped their teeth at the intricately woven vines decorating the surface. One tug, two, and—

  “Oh, no.” Teresa gasped as we watched the goats pull the whole damn thing down on the altar space.

  You have got to be kidding me. I stared, stupefied, as the goats wrecked the site. Blinking, I waited to wake up. This was a dream, right? This…this couldn’t really be happening?

  Teresa ran toward the site, flapping her arms at the goats. “Jaz, call for help!”

  2

  Tony

  I’d witnessed a lot of messed-up shit in my life, but tonight took the cake.

  It took the damn icing on every cake in the whole damn world.

  Herding miniature goats in the rain. More precisely, encouraging them to get anywhere away from the outdoor wedding site. That was my goal, at least.

  When I’d gotten the call from the front-desk receptionist that a frantic lady in neon green called to say goats were destroying everything in sight, I began to regret telling my former CO that I’d babysit his resort farm for the weekend. Resort farm. Any other day, it sounded like an oxymoron, a riddle, but no, Kurt had turned this old farm into a therapy operation for wounded soldiers to work with horses for therapy. Then when Kurt’s old lady suggested they invest in the wedding industry a couple of years ago, they’d branched off to hosting elegant yet rugged weddings in their renovated barn and state-of-the-art gardens. I’d checked out the therapy part of the place when my former comrade raved about the progress our fellow servicemen had with PTSD, and I had to agree. It was an odd combination of a business, but it was a solid and well-run one.

  As such, I’d do anything to help the friends I’d made in the Army. Kurt and his wife had been overdue for a second honeymoon, and fool that I was, I offered to stand in and hold down the fort for the weekend.

  One weekend.

  Two, three days tops.

  You’d think if I survived growing up in the streets of New York and then combat in war zones, I’d be prepared to handle anything.

  Like I said: fool that I was.

  Two hours ago, I’d woken up the live-in animal husbandry staff and told them the goats were loose. They weren’t only loose, they were partying and living it up. Eating fancy bouquets tied to aisle posts. Tearing white linens on top of chairs and tables. Tug-o-war with ribbons and some garland kind of décor.

  That was just the destruction. Before it started to rain—an unexpected pop-up summer storm, one of the stable hands said—there was the defecation courtesy of the goats as well.

  I hadn’t gone to many weddings in my life. I’d only envisioned my own once, a long time ago with a gorgeous bookworm vixen in college. But even I knew no wedding could take place in this chaotic disaster.

  Finally, we’d gotten every single mischievous goat back in the damn stables. I stood with one of the maintenance staff staring at the overturned and busted chairs, the muddy cloths soaking in puddles, and the once-gauzy, fine ribbons glued to the ground. A grungy and desolate sight. Rain had faded to a fine drizzle, and as I heard one more warning bark from the dogs who’d truly commandeered the goats back inside, I sighed.

  I set my hands on my hips and tried to make sense of how the hell this
could have happened. Never mind fate’s warped sense of humor that the goats would go wild when I happened to be in charge.

  It wasn’t a dream, that much was I was sure of.

  Two women argued near the destroyed arbor. I watched the one in neon-green pants, shaking her head with a jacket in a matching color over her head. The brunette facing her rolled her eyes and argued back.

  Dammit. They were probably from the wedding party. Time to test my customer service skills—if I even had any.

  A staff member approached me before I summoned the courage to speak with the women. We shared a look of resigned what the fuck just happened here dismay.

  “I didn’t even know Kurt had goats here,” I told him.

  The young worker glanced at me with a weak laugh. “Blame his wife. She insisted they get a bunch. They had the space for it, and she swore yoga with goats was a thing.”

  “Yoga?”

  The young man nodded. “It’s actually one of the more popular programs.”

  “All right. But how’d they get out? What are we going to do now?” Kurt left me in charge, after assuring me staff knew how to handle their jobs, and there was no way this goat-stampede could be an everyday inconvenience. So much for everything being all set to go.

  “Well, we got the barn. Whenever a party reserves an outdoor wedding, it’s assumed the barn is booked as well. In case of—”

  “Angry goats?”

  “I was gonna say the rain.”

  Didn’t matter which ruined it all. I had to figure out a solution. Before that, some answers would be nice.

  I strode toward the two women still arguing, catching more of their fight as I neared them.

  “You were so drunk you knocked into the door and somehow unlocked it!” the tall woman in green pants insisted.

  Aha. Mystery solved. Kind of. Why were they in there?

  “Well, I wouldn’t have knocked into the damn door if you weren’t chasing me,” the brunette in reflective silver sequins shot back.

  The bright fabric of the green jacket whipped out like a flag as she tore it from her head and smacked it against her thigh. Her dark hair pouffed out as she tilted her head side to side while she sassed back at the brunette. “I wouldn’t have been chasing you if you hadn’t taken my phone!”

  “And I—” The woman ceased speaking, looking over her friend’s shoulder, her widening gaze zeroed on me. Her lips remained open as she stared. Squinted. Then sucked in a deep breath. “Oh…whoa.”

  I raised my brows, curious at this hint of recognition. She knew me? Wait, did I know her? Or I had at one time? Water dripped from her wet frizzy curls. Her face was pale, but the shine in her eyes was sharp.

  Was that a smirk? A hint of familiarity flared.

  “Um…” She tipped her chin at me, urging her friend to turn around and face me. “Jaz…” she whispered.

  Jaz? Short for Jasmine?

  Jasmine.

  It came back to me. This brunette, she was the wild friend, a sorority sister, if I remembered correctly.

  “What!” Jaz snapped, wringing out the water from her wet jacket.

  “Um…” The friend broke eye contact.

  “Excuse me, I’m with management,” I said as I stepped up between them. Facing their profiles, they turned almost at the same time. The brunette grinned as Jasmine pivoted toward me with what I could only assume was shock.

  She choked on a gasp, staring at me.

  I didn’t need to wait for memories to clue me in. It was her. I’d never forgotten her face.

  Jasmine, the girlfriend I’d had to leave behind at school years ago when my family had needed me back home. The only woman who’d truly checked off all the boxes for what I desired in a woman.

  I roved my gaze over her, from the top of her bouncy curls, along her flawlessly smooth dark skin. The soaked black shirt clung to her, showing she’d only become more beautiful and fuller with age. Curves, so many delectable hints of an even more luscious body that I’d licked and pleasured in our younger days.

  I mentally snapped from staring when her friend cleared her throat. “I’m—”

  As soon as I heard her voice up close, it hit me. “Teresa,” I said, pointing a finger at her without taking my gaze off Jasmine.

  I tempered the grin that wanted to break free. “Jaz.”

  She slapped her lips shut and blinked faster now. “Yeah. Um. Yes.” A soft huff left her lips. She licked them and furrowed her brow. “Tony?”

  “We were just talking about you!” Teresa said. Gone was the sassy tone she’d been arguing with.

  I wouldn’t be fooled by her too-cheerful tone. My foolishness was already spent, remember? By telling Kurt that I’d keep an eye on the place for the weekend. I tossed a steady frown her way and her smile faltered. “You were talking about me when you were somehow releasing a horde of devil goats?”

  Devil goats, because the ache from one of those bastards biting me on the hand would last for a good couple of days.

  She lost her smile.

  Returning my attention to the one who’d gotten away, I lowered my voice. “Now you’re a sight for sore eyes,” I told Jaz.

  A wince immediately creased her face but it shifted back into that shy smile. I couldn’t tell if it was embarrassment for running into me like this, or because she was just as happy to run into me.

  “Ye…ah…” Spinning away from me slightly, she scanned the ruined wedding sight. “This is a mess.”

  Never mind my surprise at seeing her after so long, and here, of all places. I had to take care of business first. Mayhem from the diabolical goats had to take priority. “What happened?” I’d caught enough of their argument to guess both might be at fault.

  “It was an accident,” Teresa said.

  “I’m so sorry. You’re the manager? This is your place?” Jaz said.

  I nodded, refusing to stare at her so blatantly. This tsunami of instant lust had to wait for at least a minute. “I’m the manager in charge.” For the weekend.

  In a layered volley of both of them speaking quickly, I gathered that they’d merely been checking out the stables, had something of a small scuffle, and accidentally knocked into the lock for the goats’ pen. So, of course, the little bastards wasted no time darting out to their freedom and relishing the décor of the wedding site not too far from the stables.

  Neither mentioned this conversation about me, and the more I wondered about it, the more I wished I could ask. Jasmine still thought about me, after all this time? Still had girl talk with Teresa? What were the odds? Besides the awkwardness of how we’d been reunited, she seemed glad to see me. Could she have been keeping the memory of me and what we shared as warm as I had?

  “Vanessa is going to kill us,” Teresa moaned, surveying the damage.

  “Well, it’s not our fault it rained,” Jasmine countered.

  “But she’ll know all this shit has been ruined. By goats. Because of us!” She rubbed at her forehead. “Dammit. I need more wine.”

  “I’ll pay for it. All the damages.” Jasmine set her hand just below her throat and sighed. I noticed no ring. The heave of her chest brought my attention to the swell of her breasts, and I was assaulted with more memories of all the pleas—

  Goats. Wedding arch. Stay in the present, man.

  “Jaz. No, come on.” Teresa swept her hand out, gesturing across the wreck. “This shit will cost a lot. I’ll help pay too.”

  Actually, I was almost positive insurance would cover it as property damage. Having that kind of coverage was essential for this kind of business. Kurt was no fool. Because, again, that was me, for believing him that supervising would be a breeze.

  “Don’t worry,” she told Teresa while she turned to me. “Whatever’s necessary. I’ll pay for the damages.”

  “So, what, no wedding tomorrow?” Teresa asked.

  I raised my hand to interrupt their back and forth. “I think we can fall to a backup plan.”

  Both women raised t
heir brows. Jaz took hold of my hand, like she had to stop me from saying more or moving away. Heat flared from the simple touch, a contact that must have stunned her, too, because she immediately let go.

  Damn. I liked that she was still familiar enough with me to touch me.

  “What backup plan?” she asked in what seemed like a forced natural tone.

  “The barn.” At the sound of squishy footfalls approaching, I turned toward the staff member who’d spoken with me previously.

  “We’ll try to salvage as much as we can out here.” He rubbed water from his short blond hair. “Maybe there’s some leftover decorations in the hall from the dinner that they could use still.”

  “I’ll help!” Teresa warmed up to the maintenance worker. “You mean to carry it all over there, right? I can help you. The least I can do.”

  He grinned, giving her a once-over, and said, “Yeah. I’d love the help.”

  “This barn, it’ll work?” Jasmine asked me as Teresa sidled up to her newfound friend. Before she left, she looked over her shoulder and raised her brows at Jasmine a couple of times. I didn’t miss her tilting her head toward me.

  If she was escaping to let me catch up with Jasmine, alone, well, then she couldn’t be as bad as I remembered. Circumstances aside, there was nowhere else I’d rather be than reuniting with Jaz.

  Soaked, muddy, and obviously guilty by the frown on her usually cheerful face. It didn’t matter. I’d spent many random nights wondering about her, curious where she’d ended up. Never in my wildest dreams did I figure it’d be like this.

  So…thank you, goats.

  Because if they hadn’t had a rampage out here, I’d bet this weekend would have flown by, and Jasmine would have entered and left my life once again, without even knowing it.

  “You game to help, too?”

  She frowned and leaned closer to me, as though she needed to be nearer to understand. “Huh?”

  “Moving the stuff to the barn. There are extra chairs in there, but we could salvage some of the—hopefully waterproof—things they decorated with out here.”

  I narrowed my eyes at the once-elaborate arbor. I was no carpenter, but I bet I could patch those pieces together and have it standing again.