“Everything alright?” Tommy looks between them.
“Yes, work stuff,” Liza answers and focuses on me.
“He looks genuinely upset.” Quinn whispers, waking up.
I nod and catch Bryce’s eye, patting the empty space on the floor next to me. He sits and drapes his arm over my shoulder, tension rolling off of him.
“Babe, I hate to do this, but my schedule just got royally fucked. I need to be on base a lot earlier. We should probably go.”
I get up, and he rises too. Quinn decides to stay back with Nate for a while. She can tell we need some privacy so Bryce can share with me what’s going on.
We say our goodbyes, and I promise to call Nicole with our holiday plans once Bryce and I have decided. Tommy and Rick ask me to give them a shout out if the TV lands on me at Saturday’s game. Bryce groans, but everyone, including Liza laughs.
We are almost to the door, still smiling, when Liza finds a way to ruin my mood again.
“Bryce, you need me to pick you up?”
I stop walking and look at him. He hangs his head and takes a deep breath then turns to her. “No, Liza. I’ve got it.”
“Okay, see you in a few hours.” Satisfaction seeps through her tone.
In a millisecond, my unease returns.
*****
It turns out the problem with Shawn was that he needed help for alcohol abuse and suspicion of drinking on the job. Bryce explained as much as he could that Shawn’s wife had recently left and took their two-year old. She was filing for a separation. A lot of people were concerned and hoped he only needed some help coping.
Bryce left me in bed at one-thirty am Friday morning to go and confront Shawn and start the process to get help. He couldn’t tell me much more, except that he wanted to follow the rules and procedures to the ‘T’. It would consume his time until they decided the next steps.
I haven’t heard from him, except short text messages, since he left two days ago. Nate says he’s basically living on the base, working through this, so I have tried to be understanding. My mom and Michelle know what’s going on and have done everything to keep me occupied. I’ve tried to stay positive, but it’s a losing battle. All I can think of is Bryce working closely with Liza for endless hours. It’s obvious they both have an interest in this guy and his well-being, but no doubt she’s enjoying working with him alone. It’s stupid and selfish of me, but I can’t get rid of the sick feeling that’s settled in my stomach.
The only time I really felt like myself was when Shana found me on the field before the game. We hadn’t seen each other in forever, but she did acknowledge she received my internship application personally. I congratulated her, and she was coy, not talking about the engagement.
When she walked up, patting me on the shoulder, I turned and jumped into her embrace. Quinn joined in, and the three of us twisted and twirled until a throat cleared behind us. I looked over her shoulder to see a seriously HOT Professor Grant in jeans and a black turtleneck, his glasses gone and a few days’ growth on his face. Quinn and I said hello as Shana stepped into him, sliding an arm around his waist.
The minute she did, the sparkle from her hand caught my eye and I gasped. The largest and most ornate wedding ring set was shining off her hand. She blushed a bit but didn’t try to hide it. Instead, she took his hand to show a platinum ring as well. Then I knew why she was so tight-lipped. She eloped.
“Holy Shit! Congratulations!”
“Told you, if he put a ring on my finger, I couldn’t marry him fast enough.”
She hugged me again, promising we’d talk soon. I told her our moms were in the stands, and she promised to look for them. Quinn and I were surprised when the game was over and we saw our moms, Shana, and Professor Grant on the field walking toward us. The women were deep in conversation with hands flying and loud laughter.
We stood around and talked a while longer until we were forced off the field. My apprehension returned when I got to my bag and saw no missed calls or messages from Bryce. Only a message from Nicole about our wave to them during a TV shot. I tried him one more time, but the call went straight to voicemail.
This morning, I pasted a smile on my face and attempted to seem excited about shopping. Since this was an impromptu visit with short notice, Quinn was only able to get us one appointment scheduled. But a few other places recommended we ‘drop in’ because someone could probably help us.
Admittedly, it could have been my attitude, but the first store has nothing at all that remotely interests me. Neither does the second. By the third store, the three other women are losing patience with me. Quinn yanks me into a dressing room and shoves my phone in my face.
“Look at these!” she demands.
I scroll through my photo album of the last eleven months. Pictures of Bryce and I fill most of them, and I take a deep breath, realizing my misery is unjustified.
“I’m being an idiot, aren’t I?”
“Yes! He’s working, Devon. WORKING! Our moms came all this way with fucking stars in their eyes. This is important to them. Hell, this is important to me. Picking out your wedding dress shouldn’t feel like a funeral. Get a fucking grip. Give us today, let go of the insecurity, and snap out of this funk.”
I lift my head and meet her angry stare. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”
“I’m not the one you need to apologize to.”
I nod and walk back to the small waiting area where Michelle and Mom are flipping through magazines. Instead of coming right out and apologizing, I try to lighten the mood.
“You ladies think this place has any champagne? I’ve always dreamed about trying on wedding dresses while drinking champagne.”
Mom’s head snaps up, and her lips curl into a small smile. “If they don’t, I’ll go buy it. Anything to make this day memorable.”
I crush my lips together hard and swallow down the lump in my throat. She watches and then reaches across the small space, patting my hand.
“Did someone say champagne?” The attendant comes in, clearly eavesdropping.
“We certainly did. I think we’re ready to get started if you have time,” Mom answers.
“I have all afternoon. Do we have any idea what we’re looking for, so I can start pulling samples?”
Everyone looks at me, and my heart swells with love. I motion to Quinn who grabs a folder out of her bag and shoves our torn magazine pages at the attendant, whose name is Mia.
She reviews it and looks at me with a wide smile. “You want a tea length dress?”
“I do. This is scheduled to be a beach wedding if the weather cooperates. I’d like something very romantic.”
Mia doesn’t say another word but rushes out to the floor and starts pulling dresses off the rack. Another associate comes in with champagne. She pours and hands them to us, offering her congratulations. Quinn hands her my phone and asks if she’ll get some pictures.
When Mia returns with an armload of dresses, butterflies swarm in my stomach. I choose six to try on. Mom helps me while Quinn describes what she’d like for her own dress. Pretty soon, we have all three associates helping our group, even suggesting dresses for Mom and Michelle.
I’m not crazy about the first dress, but everyone insists on seeing it, so I walk out to model. Quinn instantly agrees it’s not right, but it helps give Mia an idea of what works for me. She removes the other five from the room, telling me she has a few in the back that were sent as samples that haven’t been put on the racks yet.
As we wait, I sip more champagne and look at the dresses Quinn has chosen. Since Nate and Quinn are the only two in the wedding party, she can pick what she wants. Her words from the beach last January come to mind, and I turn to the sales lady in my most serious, business-like voice possible.
“Do you think we can see this dress in pink, violet, blush, baby blue— anything soft?”
There’s a sharp intake of breath followed by a low murmur that turns in
to a screech. “YOU PROMISED ME NO PASTELS!”
The whole room goes quiet until I start howling, not able to keep a straight face. Others join in as Quinn turns bright red. Soon, she can’t hide her smile and laughs along.
Mia returns with four more dresses and ushers me into the dressing room, shooing my mom out. She says something about the full effect.
When I get the third dress on, I know immediately. It’s the one. Mia sweeps my hair up off my shoulders and secures it with a clip.
“Perfect,” she whispers. “Give me your phone and wait five seconds before walking out.”
I do what she says, and the minute my crew sees me, an audible gasp flows through the room. It’s obvious, they like it too. Someone hands a tissue to my mom, who clearly needs it for the fat tears rolling down her cheeks. No one speaks until Quinn breaks the silence.
“Hot Damn! We’ve got it!”
I smile in agreement and twirl around, seeing Mia snap pictures. For the first time in days, my sadness is replaced with giddiness. Now, I need to find Bryce to share my excitement.
Chapter 23
Bryce: This has been a bigger deal than originally expected. My phone is dying, promise to call you as soon as I can. Love you baby.
This was the text I received sixteen hours ago. I re-read the same chapter for at least the sixth time. It’s useless. There’s no way I can concentrate on anything. My phone rings, and Nate’s number comes across the screen.
“Hey! You okay?”
“Yeah, it’s been a long few days. Listen, I don’t want to get into your business, but Mom told me how upset you were the last couple of days. I’m going to recommend you don’t take it out on Bryce. He’s had a fuck of a lot happen, and most of it has been shit. Shawn’s situation turned ugly, and Bryce waded in like a true leader. He’s impressed a lot of people.” Nate lets out a tired breath. “I’m pretty sure not being able to talk to you has him on edge as well.”
“Is everything taken care of?”
“Yes, it is. Bryce and Liza took the lead on this. I was support.”
At the mention of her name, my skin chills. I had the suspicion they worked together but hearing it confirmed sucks.
“Thanks for calling with a heads up. Hopefully he can call soon.”
“I got home about noon and crashed. Swore I heard him, but he’s not here. There’s a chance he went back to base to finish paperwork.”
He was home and didn’t call me? What the hell?
Before I can say anything, a doorbell rings in the background.
“I need to go. We’ll talk in a few days.”
Curiosity gets the best of me, and I tease him. “Who’s there? Is it mystery girl?”
“None of your business… Hanging up now.”
“Love you,” is all I get out before the phone clicks.
I stare at my phone and jump when it rings, and Bryce’s picture flashes.
“Hello.”
“Baby,” is all he says, and my heart starts fluttering.
“Bryce, are you okay?”
“I am borderline delirious at this point, but in about forty-five minutes, I’ll be fine.”
It’s then I notice the echoing in the background. “Where are you?”
“About to get off the highway. If there’s no traffic, I’ll be at your apartment soon.”
“You’re coming here?” I hop off the sofa and start straightening the living room.
“Oh, yeah, I’ve been in a form of hell since Friday. You’re the only thing that I can think of right now to help erase the stress of the last few days.”
Selfishness washes through me at his words. I’ve been a needy bitch, never really thinking of what he was going through. All I was concerned with was why he wasn’t calling me.
“Are you hungry? I can run out and get something to fix for dinner, maybe some—”
“Dev, the only thing I’m hungry for is you, but unfortunately, I think that will even have to wait until tomorrow. I’ve gotten about ten hours of sleep combined since leaving you on Friday morning.”
“Bryce! It’s Monday night! That’s crazy.”
“Tell me you have cold beer? We’ll talk about the insanity of the last few days when I get there.”
“Be safe. I love you.”
In record time, I shower and put fresh sheets on the bed. Then I send a quick text to Quinn and Nate to let them know Bryce is coming here.
The knock at my door sends my heart into overdrive. I throw open the door and inhale deeply. Even exhausted, he takes my breath away. He drops his bag and hauls me directly into his arms.
“Jesus, you’re a sight.”
I lean my forehead against his and run my lips along his. “So are you.”
We stand there, soaking in the closeness, neither speaking for a few seconds. He reluctantly steps back and laces his hand in mine, leading me inside. We go straight to my bedroom, where he falls onto the bed and moves me to his side.
“I’m sorry I’ve been MIA. It couldn’t be helped,” he says sadly.
“Don’t be sorry. It’s your job.” I try to sound convincing.
“Devon, I know how bothered you’ve been. Not only could I sense it in my bones, it was obvious in your voice on my messages. Believe me, I wish like hell the last few days never happened. But knowing you were upset kills me.”
Guilt starts to smother me. Looking at him now, the worry etched on his face, the dimness of his eyes, I feel like a total bitch.
“Bryce, it wasn’t that I was upset, I was concerned and hated not being able to talk to you. It was completely ridiculous and juvenile.”
He closes his eyes and then turns to face me. “If the situation was reversed, and I couldn’t find you for three days, I’d have been a lot more than ridiculous. There’s a good chance my crazy ass would have been beating down doors to get to you.”
A giggle bubbles up, and I try unsuccessfully to hide it. His eyes soften.
“Okay, so we’ve determined we’re both out of our minds. Can you tell me exactly what’s kept you so busy?”
“You mind if I take a shower first?”
“You got it. I’ll meet you in the living room with a cold beer when you’re ready.” I roll off the bed and lean down to kiss his cheek.
He lets me go, and the sound of the shower starts when I get to the kitchen. I take two beers to the living room to wait. He joins me a few minutes later in sweatpants and nothing else. My mouth starts to water at the sight. He notices, and heat flashes in his eyes.
“Devon, pretty sure Quinn wouldn’t appreciate opening the door to find me fucking you on the sofa. That’s what’s going to happen if you don’t stop looking at me like that.”
I look away, take a sip of my beer, and stay quiet, the thought of him fucking me on the sofa completely on my mind.
He sits next to me and situates me half on his lap. I hand him a beer and wait for him to talk.
“It’s a long story, but Shawn’s situation took a lot longer than I expected. He fully admitted to having a hard time coping with his wife leaving. He was using alcohol as a crutch. Liza and I talked to our superiors and came up with a plan to get him help. He was receptive to all our suggestions and agreed to get help.”
He stops talking, and I wait for more. He drinks his beer quietly, not saying anything. “Um, Bryce, that sounds really cut and dry. Maybe I missed something, but that took all of five seconds to tell me.”
“Well, that’s the story the public knows. Here’s the true story. He was mad as hell. He’s bitter and angry at the world. His wife leaving was icing on the cake. He suspected she was having an affair, and it started during his last deployment.”
“Oh no!”
“Yeah, he convinced himself of this. But we actually got a hold of her, and she willingly spoke to us. There was no affair, only loneliness. She said she tried to talk to him several times, but he wouldn’t listen. So she left as a sign of seriousn
ess, trying to get through to him.
“When he learned this, it all came crashing down. He hit bottom. We gave him a few options. He did agree to get help and speak with an alcohol counselor. Liza and I both worked around the clock to research protocol and standard practices. We reached out to the wife and had her sit down with Shawn to explain their marriage could be saved. Then we got him set up with leave and into an alcohol center. He was admitted this morning. But the three days leading up to it have been pure hell.”
“What would have happened if he didn’t agree to your options?”
Bryce gives me a look, and I know exactly what would have happened. I put my beer down and twist into him, straddling his waist and wrapping my arms around his shoulders. “You saved that man’s career, didn’t you?”
He shrugs. “I guess you could say that.”
“You saved his marriage, too.”
He shrugs again.
“You’re amazing, absolutely amazing.” I kiss along his neck, whispering against his skin, “I’m so incredibly proud of you. He’s lucky to have someone like you on his side.”
He sets his beer down and puts his hands on my hips. “It’s my job. He had an excellent service record before this. I had to do everything in my power to help him.”
Pride and love stream through me, and I lean back, cupping his face in my hands. “Bryce, it’s fine to be noble with your team and crew, but I know how much you impacted this man forever. In the future, if your job takes you away from me with little communication for days, but you’re busy being awesome, don’t worry. I’ll be waiting patiently when you’re done to hear all about it.”
His face finally loses the earlier apprehension, and he gives me a wide smile, his eyes shining. “Being awesome, huh?”
“Oh yeah.” I nod and rest my forehead against his, never losing eye contact. “And I’m pretty sure being awesome deserves a reward.”
Staying on Course Page 17