For so long, I wanted Jace to just accept me. To love me for who I am and not for my dress size. I longed to be wanted, desired by him, but it never happened.
Then, Ryan came along. The way he looked at me. The want and the desire I had waited for was there. Only it didn’t come from my husband, it came from the sexy firefighter who had invaded my every thought since the moment I met him. I didn’t want to have feelings for him. I tried not to. But how could I not? He was everything I wanted, I needed. And now, I’ve lost him.
Anger fuels the energy I need to get to my feet. I may have lost Ryan, but who I really need to get lost is my fucking asshole of a husband. And that is about to happen a lot sooner than later.
* * *
“Jace!” I climb the stairs two at a time to get to our bedroom. “Jace!” When I came barreling through our front door, I checked the office first when I didn’t hear any sound coming from the family room. He wasn’t downstairs. And he’s not up here either.
Shit. Did he leave? I open his closet to find all his clothes lined up by color, ranging from casual to formal. I check the bathroom next. All his toiletries are still organized neatly in his drawers and on his shelves.
A little to organized if you ask me. That’s all about to change.
In my closet, I find our luggage. It doesn’t take me long to pack his toothbrush, razors, and all the metrosexual products he uses to make himself look pretty and smell good. Then, I move into his closet again and toss an armful of clothes before tossing in his boxers, socks, and shoes. I didn’t get it all, but he can come back for the rest of his shit when I’m not here.
Down the stairs I go, lugging a giant and rather heavy suitcase behind me, feeling accomplished with every thud of the wheels bouncing on each step.
When I finally reach the bottom, the front door swings open and in comes Jace holding two Starbucks cups. He flashes me a confused look, the center of his forehead crinkled. “What the hell are you doing?”
“I just finished packing.”
“Why? Where are you going?” he asks.
Is he kidding me? “I’m not going anywhere.” I stand up straight, my chin held high, and I say, “You are.”
He doesn’t say anything at first. He just kicks the door shut behind him. His nostrils flare as he inhales a deep, huffing breath. “You have got be fucking kidding me, Elizabeth. I just went to go get you coffee,” he shoves one cup in my hand, “so we could have a talk about your little friend.” He points to his cheek that is swollen and bruised. “And this is what I come home to?”
“Really?” I hold up the drink. “Did you really think you were going to make all of this okay with a fucking cup of coffee?” I can’t help but laugh. “I don’t even like coffee, you jackass. I drink tea.”
“Who gives a shit? I was going to tell you I forgive you,” he shouts at me.
I look up at the ceiling, praying that God will give me the strength to deal with this insane man. “Forgive me? For what? For not killing your ass for being such a dick to me?”
“Me? The asshole? You’re cheating on me and I’m the asshole? Fuck you, Elizabeth.” He rolls his eyes at me, dismissing my accusations like they’re nothing.
“I’m not cheating on you. Never have. But that’s not what this is about. I’m not taking anymore of your abuse, Jace. It’s over. I’m done. I can’t take it anymore. And I shouldn’t have to. I’m not happy. You’re not happy. We’re done. I packed some of your stuff. Just go. There’s nothing left to say but I’ll have my lawyer contact yours.” I push the suitcase in his direction. It rolls toward him and stops when it bangs against his leg.
“You’re fucking out of your mind. Where the fuck am I going to go?” Instead of angry, he looks lost. I’ve completely shocked the hell out of him.
“Honestly, Jace. I don’t care anymore. I really don’t care where you go. Just go.” He steps toward me, but I hold up my free hand in protest. “I said, get out!”
Jace glares at me with an intensity that scares the shit out of me. His nostrils flare again and I can see his pulse in his jaw. He slams his cup down on the living room coffee table before grabbing for the luggage handle. He takes a few steps toward the door and opens it. But before he leaves, he turns around to say, “I never thought you really cheated on me. That guy would never fuck a fat bitch like you.”
The door slams and I rush to lock it. I don’t know why. He has a key, but I just need to feel some semblance of safety and security from him. From his actions. From his words, mostly. I don’t know how a locked door can provide that, but it’s a start. It’s a barrier of some sort.
Fuck him. The tears start to flow again as I press my back to the door. My eyes sting with each drop spilling over my lids, and my cheeks dampen as those tears slide down my cheeks. My head pounds with the pain and heartache I’m feeling. How could I have ever loved a man like him? A man so determined to put me down and make me feel like shit. It makes me sad to think of all the time I spent feeling so inadequate and unattractive, so beat up because of him.
I dry my eyes, dragging my fingers across my face to wipe away my agonized tears. Those days are over. I will not shed one more tear over Jace Thomas. Not one.
But then my thoughts flash back to the image of Ryan standing in front of me at The Lookout. You’re married? God, I needed a do over today. The waterworks start again as I slide down the door until my ass hits the tile. Why didn’t I come home last night and tell Jace to take a hike then? Why didn’t I tell Ryan the truth? All the whys cloud my brain as I cry some more. Not for Jace because he doesn’t deserve my tears. I’m relieved he’s gone.
But for Ryan, because he absolutely does.
God, I feel like a part of me just died. That part was Ryan.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Ryan
What the fuck just happened?
She’s married?
Jamming my fingers through my sweaty hair, I grip a handful, yanking on it in frustration.
Shit. That just happened. It really did. I lower my hands to my sides, clenching my fists as I traipse toward my house. That dick better not cross my path because if he does, I’m likely to kick his fucking ass up, down, all over this hill, until he apologizes to Lizzy.
The nerve of that motherfucker. A growl surges up my body and loudly expels from my mouth as I scrub my hands over my face. Fuck.
When I heard the words spit out of his mouth, directed at Lizzy, all I saw was red. It was like something clicked and I wanted to kill him. How fucking dare he call her a... Fuck him. And she just stood there, looking like someone who just got kicked in the gut.
God. A million questions have my head spinning like I’ve just gone ten rounds on the teacups at Disneyland. Again. What the fuck just happened? For the last few months, I’ve done little other than think about that gorgeous woman who I thought was thinking of me, too. Why wouldn’t I have thought so? She definitely flirted with me. There was no doubt in my mind she reacted to my presence when I saw her. Her eyes lit up in a way they didn’t when she greeted the other guys. For me, she flashed a different smile. A soft, sweet, glowing smile, with a hint of playfulness, which I just ate up every moment I was with her.
And dammit if she didn’t react to my touch. A slight brush of the hand, a playful jab of the elbow, when we danced close together...she reacted.
Son of a bitch.
She reacted all right. She fled. Fuck me. She fled each time we were about to get close. Each time I touched her, she flinched. Backed away and left. I thought she was running because of the attraction, because of the chemistry that was burning through us like an out-of-control brush fire. But it wasn’t that at all. She ran because she is married. As in...taken. As in not supposed to be getting touched or brushed up against or slow dancing with a guy who is not your husband in a secluded private getaway.
Fuck that. She wanted me. I know she did. I know she does. God, the look in her eyes moments ago said everything she didn’t say with words. It was like she was apologizing t
o me. There is no denying the attraction we feel toward each other, but it doesn’t matter. She’s married.
Lizzy is fucking married.
To an asshole. A complete dick who treats her like shit.
My street is just steps away and I stop at the corner with my hands on my hips contemplating going home or turning back. Or maybe, taking a detour and going to her house to finish what I started with her husband. Fuck him. He’s lucky I have some semblance of self-restraint left in me, or his ass would be in the hospital right now.
There is no doubt in my mind this wasn’t the first time he has talked to Lizzy that way. Goddamn, she looked broken when he said those fucked-up things. She looked so damn hurt and pained that it hurt me, too. All I wanted to do was take her into my arms and tell her all the shit he was feeding her were lies. All lies. She is beautiful. She is perfect. And she should be mine. Not his. That fucking bastard doesn’t deserve her. He doesn’t deserve anyone.
I can’t tell you how many times I’ve had to talk my mom and sister off a ledge over weight bullshit. Neither one of them has ever been skinny, but whenever it came to a wedding, an event for school—heaven for fucking bid, someone asked Katie to prom—she was on a diet for weeks and working out like a mad woman. I never saw what the fuss was about. If a guy didn’t want to date my mom or sister because of their size, then that guy deserved a good old-fashioned ass whooping. He wasn’t enough for either of them.
Dammit it all to hell. That’s why I have to go back to Lizzy. I have to tell her she’s beautiful. She can’t listen to him. She can’t believe him. After all the time we spent together, getting to know each other, falling for each other. She has to believe... She has to believe me.
Turning on my heels, I take a few steps back toward Lizzy before doing an about face and heading home. As much as I’m dying to run back to her, I just can’t. It’s not my place.
She’s not mine. She’s married.
And not to me.
* * *
My breaths come quicker as I reach my house and unlock the door with a shaky hand. Fuck if I can’t even concentrate long enough to open my damn door. When the deadbolt finally gives, I whip the door open and slam it behind me, rattling the windows in the process. I make my way to the kitchen, tossing my keys on the counter, and going to the fridge for a beer. After the long run, I really should be drinking water, but hell, I need a beer. A shot maybe. Or two.
I can’t believe Lizzy didn’t tell me she’s married. I can’t let it go. Her expression is going to haunt me forever. There was something special about this girl. Something that made me feel at ease, at home for once. She made me laugh. She made me smile. She made me want to listen to her out-of-tune voice singing along as we hiked up the hill. If that wasn’t my first clue at how bad I have it for her, I don’t know what was. I just never had the right to have it any way for her. Not when she’s spoken for.
Fuck. Fucking shit. Seriously? Goddamn it. I can’t believe it. Why the fuck didn’t she tell me she is married? Why?
The sound of ringing fills my house, breaking the silence and my constant thoughts of Lizzy.
“Yeah.” I don’t feel like talking, but the caller ID says the call is from work.
“Hey, Ryan.”
The familiar voice gets my attention and I force myself to respond. “Chief? What can I help you with?” I ask, because surely a call from the chief means he needs something. He doesn’t just call to shoot the shit.
“When was the last time you watched the news?”
“Just this morning, sir.”
“Did you see the reports on the Utah fire?”
God, I wish he would just get to the point. I’m trying here to be professional, but after my morning, I don’t know how long I can keep this up. “Yes, sir. It’s out of control. Looks like it will get a lot worse before it gets better. They’ve already sent in extra units.”
“Right, right.” He pauses. “Well, your old assistant superintendent from Utah called. They’re manning that fire.”
My pulse quickens even more at the mention of my old crew.
“Apparently, they’re down a few men who are hurt and they’re calling back a few guys. They wanted to know if I could spare you.”
Oh shit.
“I know you left because you wanted the stability of being home and in town for your family, so before I give them my answer, I thought I’d check with you first. They need you more than our small town does, so if you’re up to it...”
I don’t let him finish. “I’m in. I’ll start packing.”
“I never doubted your sense of duty. I knew you’d go where you were needed. Contact Avery and see where he wants you to meet up with your old crew. You’re job will be here when you get back.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“Ryan?”
“Yes.”
“Stay smart out there. Stay safe.”
“Will do.”
With that, the chief hangs up and I’m left to my thoughts again.
Never being one to go after a woman who is in a relationship, I find myself in unchartered territory. Being here will only make things more complicated. There is no way in hell I’ll be able to stay away from Lizzy. Hell, I want to go to her right now. Tell her to get rid of that dick of a husband and have me instead. But it dawns on me slowly. If she hasn’t already, why would she now? Sticking around and seeing her at The Lookout, knowing she’s married to such an ass would piss me off to no end. So why put myself through that?
I can’t fucking stay here. I gotta go. I gotta get far away. From here. From her.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Lizzy
The last month feels like it’s been on fast forward, a pace I’m barely keeping up with. Which is good. Definitely good. The days go by so fast that I hardly have time to think. I’ve been working out like crazy. Reading like a machine. I have taken to reading thrillers because my go-to romances keep breaking my heart. And while I hate to admit it, I’m now addicted to more reality TV shows than I can count. I thought my life was fucked up. With the click of a remote, I can easily make this last year look like a walk in the park.
Too bad the evenings don’t fly by just as quickly. Instead, I lie awake in bed, staring at the ceiling wondering if Ryan is thinking of me, too. I haven’t had the heart to go to him. I’m scared. What if I tell him I kicked out Jerkwad Jace and filed for divorce and he still wants nothing to do with me? My heart would break all over again if that happened. Only this time, I’m not so sure my days would be bearable anymore. They might just be mirror images of my nights. Cuddled up into a ball, crying into my damp pillow thinking of the last words he spoke to me.
My house is dark even with the blinds drawn. June gloom sucks. I’d rather have the sunshine and heat.
My cell buzzes in my hand as I trot down the stairs of my house toward my front door. Taking a glance at the screen, I see that it’s Molly.
“Don’t even tell me you’re flaking again. Flaking is not allowed once, much less twice. I’ll kill you and that jackass of a husband of yours if you miss another book club meeting.”
She pauses and before she can start scolding me again, I answer her. “I was just about to walk out the door. I’ll be there in a minute.”
“Good. I’m here already. So is Rachel and I can see Rose coming up the hill now. See you in a bit, girlfriend.”
The entire walk to The Lookout, I try to imagine the moment when I see Ryan again. The moment when his eyes come into view and lock on mine. What will those beautiful eyes tell me? Will they be filled with anger? Sadness? Or will they be carefree? I can’t believe that. I can’t believe he wouldn’t still care in some way.
But shit, it has been a month. I missed the last meeting two weeks ago. I couldn’t bring myself to show my face on the hill and see Ryan after what I did. After lying to him about being married and allowing myself to have feelings for him when I shouldn’t have. I couldn’t help those feelings if I tried. Ryan is everything I ever w
anted in a man. He’s sweet, caring, kind, hot as all every loving hell, and he likes me. Me! Me with a soft belly and a curvy—to put it nicely—ass.
Although this ass has gotten a bit smaller. I may not have hiked the hill in four weeks, but I have hit my treadmill. I hadn’t used it in years, but getting a divorce from your life-sucking, happiness-leeching husband will do wonders for increasing motivation.
Telling Jace to get the fuck out was like lifting a million pound weight off my sagging shoulders. Not seeing his disappointment in our marriage and me day after day has been such a relief. I wake up knowing my life is limitless now. I don’t have someone to bring me down. I can do whatever I want whenever I please, and while I’ve been worried about losing Ryan completely, I have also made a few decisions. With or without Ryan, I plan to get into shape.
With Ryan just sounds so much more appealing. I’d be kidding myself if I didn’t cop to that fact.
Waving their hands in the air, the girls come into view as I drag my feet down the hill. Fear keeps me from hauling ass—that and the pounding on my shins with each step I take. Well, it’s only a matter of time. The guys should be here soon enough and I’ll be able to get my answer the moment I see Ryan.
“Hey, girl! We missed you,” Rachel says. “Where have you been hiding?”
Expecting to hear this line of questioning, I prepared a little something. “I finally got a hair up my ass to get a job. I’ve been going through interviews at the library. I got the job and I start in two weeks.”
Shrills feel the air. I knew this would get my friends off my back. Instead of asking questions about Jace or the bags under my eyes, they are full of interest about my choice to start working.
“Oh my God,” Molly says, standing to give me a hug. “That’s great. Tell us all about it.”
After accepting embraces and congratulations from the girls, I sit down beside them on the bench and begin telling them about my choice to get back to my dream career. Every so often, I glance at the horizon, waiting impatiently for our firemen to grace us with their presence. Well, really only one in particular.
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