Henry

by Tessa Frank

  Henry

  Second Chance for the Marine

  Tessa Frank

  Contents

  Tessa’s Gossip Column

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Epilogue

  Tessa’s Gossip Column

  Thank you from Tessa

  Also by Tessa Frank

  Tessa’s Gossip Column

  Oh my goodness! Becca Fisher is auctioning off the house she grew up in.

  This reporter has received exclusive information that the auction will happen at the end of the month.

  I can hardly wait to see teenage Becca’s bedroom! I wonder if we favored the same boy bands?

  In the mean time, dear readers, Brentwood High’s 10th reunion is in 2 weeks! Oh the many faces we shall be seeing in our little town!

  Shall we take bets?

  1

  Becca

  I push the front door of Dad’s old house, the place I grew up, open with a big suck in of air. Cough, cough. “That, Becca, is definitely what stale air tastes like.”

  And I’m talking to myself in the third person. Great. Just freaking great.

  It’s all because I have to be here. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t have to, if I could avoid or delay this any longer. Being home again feels beyond odd.

  “One month.” That’s what I tell myself. It’s a promise. One month and I’ll be done and back in the office — an office somewhere. My job involves a lot of travel. Always has. Lately, ever since Dad died, it hasn’t felt as satisfying as it used to. Exotic doesn’t equal content.

  I put the accumulated mail on the kitchen counter and make my way through the house. It doesn’t feel right. There’s a lifeless quality to the place. Abandoned.

  It’s a Saturday. I head back outside to my rental to get my suitcase and laptop. I stare up and down the street. When I left for college, I figured nothing would ever change. Not really anyway. Dad made comments, but I didn’t pay attention.

  I don’t recognize a single neighbor.

  Sighing, I trudge back inside. “Time to get this done.” I’ve got the name and number for the best estate auction people in the area, courtesy of my best friend who never left the area. Hadley claims Brentwood, Illinois has grown by leaps and bounds. I suppose she’d know. Her dad was big in real-estate.

  I flip through the mail, noticing the big envelope with a groan. “What organization is this, Dad?” Yes, he’s dead and I’m talking out loud to him. Don’t get me started on my sanity. It’s a huge question in my mind too.

  Then I realize the envelope is addressed to me. “What?”

  I open it, wondering who would send me something at my father’s place.

  The invitation falls open.

  “It can’t be ten years already.”

  Technically, I know ten years have passed. The changing date is pretty clear about the passage of time. There’s something about getting an invitation to your tenth high school reunion that hits you. “But I only feel like I’m four years older.”

  Whining doesn’t change reality.

  I lay the invitation on the kitchen counter. The junk mail gets tossed in the trash. I spend the rest of the day attempting to organize and pack. Soon boxes, some full, others only partially packed, litter the floor. “I’m gonna need help.”

  The estate auction isn’t until the end of the month. I set it as late as I could, which happened to be their only available date. Estate sales and auctions are a busier business than I assumed.

  Black spots appear right before the pain of loosing him tears through me. I am utterly alone in the world, sans friends. “Friends are great.” I’m coping, reminding myself that it will all be ok. Eventually.

  The reunion invite slides off the counter, landing on my head. It falls on to the floor next to me. A tear, quickly followed, traces its way down my face. “Oh, Dad, you were so wrong. Marrying your high school sweetheart wasn’t the worst mistake. Giving up on love was.”

  I crumple the invitation in my hand. I wish I hadn’t followed Dad’s advice. It had seemed so wise, back when he was still alive. Now… now the hole that formed when I purposely dumped Henry is a seething wound. One that never fully healed despite a decade of opportunity.

  I sit there and let the tears flow. I know when they stop, I’ll call my best friend and offer to help. Hadley will love that I’m back in town. At least someone will be happy to see me.

  2

  Henry

  Why couldn't she have turned into a troll? Honestly, I'm not asking that much of the world. Turn the girl who broke my heart into a troll. A big, fat, ugly troll.

  But no. The world has a sick sense of humor. Becca Fisher is as beautiful today as she was when she cut my heart out at the end of senior year. How has ten years passed so fast?

  But, as it turns out, my luck is worse than nonexistent, because ten years later, she is still gorgeous enough to make my heart pound. And, of course, she’s running the sign-in table at our high school reunion.

  Sucking in a deep breath to keep the nerves calm, I say, “Hello.” Not a stellar greeting, but the best I can pull out.

  Becca turns to me, her smile dropping away into a small O of surprise. I straighten, rolling my shoulders back. Good. I’m not the only person shocked to see the other.

  “Oh, hey,” she says with a breathy voice. Her lower lip wobbles.

  I feel my grin spread.

  She blinks twice, then looks down to the table with all the name tags on it.

  I feel the wind drop from my sails and want it back. “I heard Hadley set up this shindig. Looks good,” I manage in a normal voice, not giving away my traitorous heart.

  “Thank you. I’ll let Hadley know you like it.” Becca smiles, but her eyes flick everywhere except at me. “She did most of the work.”

  “Right.” I take the name tag she hands me. My fingers touch her’s. I swear she jerks away like I burned her. Not the reaction a guy still carrying a flame wants. “See you around.”

  “See you,” she replies, her voice going pitchy.

  But Becca is ever the trooper. I watch her turn away to the person in line behind me. Do I see her shoulders relax? Goodness, I really don’t know. I’m probably imagining things. Becca can’t feel the same way about me. She wouldn’t have broken up with me if she did.

  3

  Becca

  Tessa’s Gossip Column

  Did anyone else overhear Henry Sanchez mumbling about a troll? Has his time in the Marines had a negative effect?

  My hands are still tingling from contact. How is that possible? Henry isn’t even near me. We barely touched. Yet I acted like a floundering fool being asked out for the first time by my crush. I want to bang my head on the table. Or go cry in the bathroom. Too bad I’m stuck smiling and greeting people for the next twenty minutes at least.

  Hadley slides up beside me, edging between me and the other girl at the table. “So, how’d that go?”

  “How’d what go?” I play dumb.

  “Right,” Hadley says, drawing the word out. “Your cheeks are turning red.”

  Ouch. Stupid cheeks destroying my attempt to appear unbothered. Ignoring Hadley, I smile at the person walking up to the table. “Devon Parker. Nice to see you
again.”

  “Thanks. Nice to be seen,” he says, accepting his name tag. My fingers touch his. Nothing. Not even a tiny little twinge.

  Ugh. Henry and I stopped dating a decade ago. He shouldn’t affect me anymore. I refuse to think about it. “Enjoy the party,” I say to Devon.

  Hadley gives him a bit more information, then turns back to me. “You are not fooling me.”

  I pause from being a greeter long enough to glare at my best friend since grade school.

  She only laughs. “I can’t wait to see the two of you back together.”

  My glare turns into a mask of shock. “Right. Because he’s going to take back the girl who dumped him when he was about to propose.” Hadley replies, but I cut her off. “Stop dreaming, Hadley. Life isn’t a Hallmark movie.”

  We’re interrupted then, giving me a chance to calm down. Deep breathing. As much as I might want to get back together with Henry, I know it will not happen. Sometimes the mistakes you make in life become permanent.

  When all but eight name tags are gone, the girl beside me says, “Guess it’s time we joined in the fun.”

  “Right. See you inside,” I say. Going inside is the last thing I want to do. My stomach is doing cartwheels at the thought I might see Henry again. No amount of deep breathing will get me through that.

  4

  Henry

  The reunion is less than an hour old. I’m nursing a beer at the bar while chatting with Devon Parker. That, talking with a former teammate, is a good thing. It’s like the years melt away. Now if I could get my eyes to stop searching for her.

  “So, how have things been going? I’ve heard things.”

  “I bet you have.” Devon’s bark of laughter sounds hollow. “Dodged a bullet.”

  I raise a brow then ask, “With the ex?” The way I figure it, Devon can’t be talking about his pro football career. That was his dream. Like the Marines were mine. Even though that’s now over.

  Devon nods. Hard. I crack up. “Yeah, divorce woulda cost you way more.” Not that I know from firsthand experience. Watching my platoon brothers when their marriages went south, man, that tore me up. Made me glad things with Becca ended early.

  Almost.

  We keep talking. The night wears on. Devon takes off soon after Claire Reynolds, his ex-girlfriend, arrives and disappears. Never found out why those two broke up.

  There’s happiness in the air, but I can’t take it. It’s a little too fake or desperate to be authentic. I toss a tip on to the bar counter and head to the door.

  Becca meets me there, her back going rigid at the sight of me. I pull open the door. “After you, my lady.” Yeah, I maybe shouldn’t have had that last beer.

  Becca’s brows go up. “Do you need a ride home?”

  I rub a hand down my face. “I can Uber or something.”

  “Hadley told me Uber hasn’t made in roads here. Too small.”

  I eye her as she walks beside me. Becca is one of those females who’s tall and not about to hide it. Even at five foot eight inches, she’s wearing three-inch heels. I look away and swallow. Drooling would be a stupid move.

  “Cab then.”

  There’s a line of them at the front of the building. Becca’s eyes flick to me, then back to the line. “Hadley made sure there would be.”

  “Hadley thinks of everything,” I intone. I want so badly to grab ahold of Becca, drag her into a cab, and order the driver to find the nearest hotel. Pretty sure Becca would have a few things to say about that though.

  I step forward, intending to take the cab at the front of the line. That’s only fair, right? Take the driver who’s been waiting the longest.

  “How about if I drive you home?”

  I spin slowly on my heel to face her. Becca’s cheeks are turning pink. She licks her lips, making me focus on them. She shifts from one foot to the next. “Henry?”

  I swallow. My mind can’t begin to understand where the offer came from. I want to hate her. At the same time I want to do a whole lot of not-hate-you type things to her too. I’m a mess. I should just take a cab.

  “Sounds good.”

  Yeah, my mouth is not in sync with my brain.

  5

  Becca

  I can’t believe those words popped out of my mouth. But he said yes, soooo…. that’s a good thing. Right? I shake my head as I drop into my car, Henry getting in on the other side. I probably need to see a doctor, the kind that cures mental issues.

  “Where to?” I ask once the car is in motion.

  Henry tells me an address in the newer part of the town called Brentwood Park. “Never been over there,” I say.

  “My sister lives in an apartment there.”

  “You’re living with your sister?”

  Henry shrugs in the seat. “Didn’t have a place of my own when I left the Marines.”

  I blink, not realizing that he’d left the Marines. “I get that. I’m staying at my dad’s house.”

  Well, given the way Henry’s entire being straightens in the seat, bringing up my dad was not a good idea. They did not see eye-to-eye back then, and I’d bet that Henry knows my dad was against our getting married.

  “Dad died a year ago.”

  And there, I dropped an emotional bomb in his lap.

  I see Henry wince. “I’m sorry, Becca.” His hand folds over my mine on the steering wheel. “I know he meant the world to you.”

  Tears prick. I blink them away. “Yeah, he did. Thanks.” Henry squeezes my hand once, then pulls away. I miss the connection immediately. And the warmth. It’s summer, but I want to feel the heat from him unfreezing the parts of me that have been frozen for way too long.

  “It’s weird,” I say, eyes never leaving the road, but I know Henry is listening. “Dad was so certain that marrying young was the worst thing ever. That’s what he claimed ruined his life, you know.”

  Henry grunts once. He’s looking out the window, not at me.

  “Then he gets this motorcycle because ‘life’s meant to be lived, Bec,’ and he’s dead a week later.”

  I definitely have his full attention with that. “I mean, what does that say about everything he told me before about being safe and cautious because he didn’t want me to make the same mistakes as him?”

  “Turn left up here.”

  That is not the response I was secretly hoping for.

  6

  Henry

  Her father is dead. Dang. I’m not sure how to handle that. Like fragile glass, obviously, but in practice... I’m at a real loss.

  We’re at Alicia’s apartment and I’m still clueless. “This is it.” I thumb out the window.

  Becca cuts the engine and leans forward to look out. “Cute.”

  “It’s an apartment.” Not the quaint place I pictured us having one day. “Pretty sure Alicia wants me out.”

  “Do you leave your boxers all over the place?”

  My brows climb upwards as I turn in my seat to stare at her. “Did you just ask about my boxers?”

  Becca purses her lips together. “I see.” A corner of her mouth quirks up. “You’re more a tiddy-whities kind of guy.”

  Well, knock me over. I’m fairly certain I’m staring at Becca with my jaw unhinged for a full minute. I snap my mouth shut to quip, “Are you asking because you want to know?”

  “If you’re messy? Of course I want to know.” Her grin is wide. “A woman always wants to know if a guy’s a mess waiting to happen.”

  “Huh.” I ease out of the car, leaning down to say, “guys want to know the same things about the lady.” I close the car door. Becca’s out on her side, arms resting on top of the roof. “No guy wants to trip over dirty laundry.”

  Becca laughs. “Especially in the heat of the moment.” She nods toward the row of apartments. “So why does she want you out?”

  I shrug, realizing I want the banter to keep going. Knowing if it does that I’m in for a world of hurt. Maybe. Probably. I look over my shoulder at the place. “I think
she just wants her place to herself.”

  “Past the point of wanting a roommate?”

  I laugh. “After a few tours, I certainly wouldn’t mind having a quiet place of my own.”

  “Just not too quiet.” Becca opens her car door. “Trust me. Sometimes you can be too in your own head.”

  “I hear that.” And I truly get it. Becca eases into the car. “See you around,” I offer as much as ask.

  Becca smiles. “I’d like that.”

  I step back as she reverses out of the space, matching her wave as she drives away. I punch myself in the shoulder. “Stop it, man. Don’t make anything of it.” I know it’s already too late. I’m hoping to see Becca again soon. Real soon.

  7

  Becca

  Tessa’s Gossip Column

  Did this reporter spot Henry Sanchez driving away from the reunion in Becca Fisher’s car? Yes, dear readers, this reporter most certainly did see that!

  Four days pass until I see Henry again, and it’s definitely not how I would have planned to run into him.