by Lane, Terri
She smiled weakly at them, pretending to be braver than she felt. Despite her bravado and the fact that she knew logically that she should leave, she didn’t want to. Part of her was screaming to stay. A huge part of her. But as much as she wanted to, she had to accept reality.
“I’ll miss you both,” she said, her eyes welling up. “Maybe once I get settled, we can give us another chance and see where it goes.”
She stepped forward and into Trevor’s arms first, inhaling the scent of him as his strong arms wrapped around her. She was reminded of that night, riding through the air on Spencer’s back, and she shuddered. Even in those moments, she had felt attracted to them both, never imagining where that attraction would lead. Yet here she was, walking away from the best thing that had ever happened to her.
When Trevor finally released her with a gentle kiss, she went to Spencer. He held her tighter than he ever had, and she could feel him trembling ever so slightly. He was upset, though he was hiding it well for her benefit. She loved him for that.
Her decision was hard enough without them sharing their feelings about her leaving. They did not speak.
She pulled away from Spencer, getting into the moving truck quickly and waving as she started the engine. She watched them fade away in the rear view mirror as she drove down the dirt road, then she made her way to the highway and back toward home.
With each passing mile, she grew more distraught, but she pushed on until she was almost to the highway. The sign pointing her toward home was within sight when she turned around, heading back the way she had come.
“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” she said out loud in the cab of the moving truck. “I can’t spend the rest of my life living in a fairy tale, even if it’s a good one.”
Why not? Lara thought angrily. Why can’t I live happily ever after?
“No reason,” she said out loud again. “There is absolutely no reason that I can’t spend the rest of my life with the men that I love.”
She smiled, feeling almost giddy as she found the dirt road that was hidden in the tree line that led from the two-lane highway to their home. The home that she had shared with them for more than a month.
When the house appeared at the end of the long drive, she knew that she was doing the right thing. Trevor and Spencer were already coming out of the front door when she got out of the truck, hitting the ground running straight to them. Tears flowed down her face as she flung herself into their arms, closing her eyes as she felt two sets of strong arms wrap around her and hold her tight.
“What are you doing here?” Spencer asked.
“Oh Spencer,” she said, laughing. “Why did I think I could live without you and Trevor? I couldn’t do it. I got to the interstate and I realized I couldn’t leave.”
“You want to stay here?” Spencer asked, incredulous while Trevor just watched her in silent awe.
“I do. I don’t want to live in fear, and I want to leave the house when I want to. But, I can’t imagine living my life anywhere but with you. Both of you. I want to stay, if you’ll have me.”
She stood there as a look passed between the two of them. When they finally smiled at her, she knew that she had made the right choice and that she was where she belonged.
She followed them into the house, leaving unpacking the truck for another day. They had all the time in the world, and Lara wasn’t going anywhere.
***
Six Months Later
Spencer carried his suitcase and Lara’s to the rental lot, counting off the spaces until he found the truck in space G-5. He tossed the suitcases into the truck and Trevor followed suit.
Opening the door for Lara, he helped her scoot across the seat to sit in the middle while Trevor got in on the other side.
“I’m so excited,” she said. “I’ve never been to a dude ranch.”
“You’re going to love Montana,” Trevor gushed as Spencer typed the address into the GPS and carefully guided the truck out of the parking lot and onto the highway. “And the owners are friends of ours. It’s going to be great two weeks, even if it’s a working vacation.”
Trevor and Lara talked the entire way, with Spencer interjecting now and then like he always did. Lara enjoyed the easy way the three of them connected, and how each twin was distinctly different than the other. She could count on Spencer to provide quiet comfort when she needed to relax, and Trevor was always up for a laugh and a long talk into the night. Identical or not, they were completely different and Lara loved so much about both of them.
When they finally pulled off the highway and she saw the huge farmhouse in the distance, she sat up a little taller.
“It’s beautiful,” she said, almost whispering in awe of the vast land stretching out behind the farmhouse and the beautiful, two-story building with an inviting wraparound porch.
There were enough chairs to lounge a small army, and Lara was glad that she had brought a few projects to work on. Even though she knew she would be busy moving cattle and taking care of whatever horse she was assigned for the vacation, she was looking forward to quiet time spent in one of those rocking chairs, sewing away and sharing good conversation with the friends that they made.
A pair of blond haired children flew out of the house an instant after Spencer parked, their heavily pregnant mother hot on their trail, laughing and trying to catch them as they yelled in unison that they didn’t need a bath. Lara could see from where she sat that they most-definitely needed a bath as they were both covered from head to toe in mud and leaves, and giant toddler grins.
Trevor helped Lara out of the passenger side. Spencer got out, walking up to the man who had appeared to welcome them and shaking his hand. Trevor held Lara’s hand as she walked around the truck, smile on her face, eager to greet the owner of the dude ranch.
When they made it to the driver’s side of the truck, the smile slipped off Lara’s face and her stomach dropped. She stared at the man, her face blank.
He smiled at her, holding his hand out, but she didn’t take it.
“Hi Lara,” he said, still smiling despite her blank stare. “I’m happy you’re here.”
“I thought you were dead,” she said, then closed her mouth, looking around to make sure the children weren’t in earshot. “I thought you were killed in the shootout.”
She looked to Spencer for reassurance and was rewarded with a rare smile.
“It was part of the plan,” he said. “When I gave up all the information I had to the Feds, I had to die in order to go into witness protection. New life, new name, and new home.”
“You snitched?” she said, shocked.
“I did. I didn’t get into the mob life because I wanted to, and I made a promise to my wife.”
“How did-” she stopped and shook her head. “I saw them take you out in a body bag.”
He laughed.
“You should have felt the dye packs that the agent shot me with. He was the only one who knew, so I was still wearing a thin vest, just in case someone else shot me, but they still stung.”
“What about the coroners?” Lara asked.
“They were US Marshalls,” Spencer said.
“Wow,” she said. “I can’t believe this. And your wife?”
“She’s due in a month or so.” He stepped forward, taking her hand in his and smiling. “I’m so sorry that I almost blew you up in your car.”
She laughed, shaking her head and amused.
“I can’t even believe that I’m saying this, but don’t worry about it.”
“Thank you,” he said. “Your forgiveness means more to me than you will ever know.”
He led them inside, showing them to their room, one king-sized bed in the large room upstairs. Lara opened the window, staring out into the vast, open space, her smile a mile wide.
“What?” Trevor asked, standing behind her and wrapping his arms around her.
Spencer stood beside them, looking out the window, and reaching out for Lara’s hand.
“Trust us,” Spencer said, squeezing her hand and leaning in to steal a quick kiss. “We’re the ones who are lucky.”
THE END
= Bonus Book 2 of 9 =
Her SEAL, Her Savior
Even when she was wearing six-inch heels, Alasia Jackson didn’t come close to matching the height of the hulking blond man currently standing between her and the door.
“I need to get to sound check,” she growled, narrowing her dark brown eyes and glaring up at him.
Zach didn’t respond, so she poked him in the center of his broad chest with one bright pink, manicured fingernail. This barely had an effect, either. He just cocked one light eyebrow and coolly informed her, “You can get to sound check, ma’am, as soon as security goes over that wiring.”
Alasia sighed and flounced across her spacious dressing room to the leather sofa, finally backing down from the fight. She flopped down onto the thick cushions and dug through the pockets of her skintight jeans for her phone. Flipping it to front view, she aimed the camera at herself for a quick selfie, making sure to catch Zach in frame.
Trying to get to sound check for all my fans in ABQ! Hope my bodyguard lets me out soon so I can rock ya’lls world! She captioned the photo and then posted it to her Instagram. Seconds later, likes and comments began pinging in.
“My fans demand that you let me outta here, Zach,” she said. “A bunch of them got in for sound check and I cannot disappoint my fans.”
“Ma’am, it will just be a few more minutes. I’m sure this delay won’t affect your show tonight at all,” he drawled in his thick Southern accent.
Alasia didn’t know what annoyed her more: Zach’s accent or his constant use of the word “ma’am.” She thought about it for a moment, then concluded that the most annoying thing about Zach was his mere existence. He’d only been appointed to her for less than twenty-four hours, but she was already fed up with the retired Navy SEAL’s oppressive presence.
Her normal security team, Laurence and Cajardo, always let her have her own way, and that’s the way Alasia liked it. She and her boys grew up in LA together, and she’d always been the queen bee. Now, however, Laurence and Cajardo were back in Houston in a hospital wing, recovering from a nasty bout of food poisoning.
Or at least that’s what the organizers of the Pop/Rock Explosion! Parade of Stars tour had told her.
“It’s just food poisoning, Lay-Lay,” Marty had said, but his eyes kept shifting away from hers. As if that wasn’t suspicious enough, Marty had immediately called in a favor from an old friend and snagged her a fearsome new bodyguard, Zachary Severtson, retired Navy SEAL, Southern gentleman and official pain-in-her-ass.
When Alasia had questioned Zach about the “food poisoning” incident, he’d remained stone-faced and only replied that it was classified information.
Considering the alleged “food poisoning” had happened when Laurence and Cajardo had devoured a box of gourmet truffles that had been sent to Alasia, she thought she deserved to know the truth, not get nailed with this “classified information” nonsense. Alasia may have majored in vocal music and not science or criminal justice, but she knew perfectly well that people didn’t get food poisoning from a box of candy.
The whole thing was shady beyond belief.
“Ma’am, we just got word that the stage has been swept and everything is clear,” Zach informed her and finally stepped away from the door. “You’re free to head to sound check.”
Alasia pushed passed him without comment and made her way to the stage. Excited stagehands and PAs whispered as she approached and she took a few moments here and there to stop and snap some selfies with the ones who were brave enough to ask.
She may have only been the runner up on the last season of Pop/Rock Explosion! but everyone knew that she’d deserved to win, and her massive, vocal fan base was loud in their affection for their favorite singer.
A mousy little PA stopped her as she passed the craft services table. “Excuse me? Miss Jackson?” the girl stuttered, her eyes wide and star-struck behind her thick black glasses. “I was wondering if we could take a quick photo?”
Alasia laughed. “I’d be happy to, hon, but on one condition: you call me ‘Lay-Lay,’ okay?”
“Okay!” the girl grinned and framed them both in the lens of her phone’s camera.
Alasia shot the camera a winning smile and took a moment to admire her image on screen. Back when she was playing in small clubs around LA, she’d never bothered to get herself made-up and ready for sound checks, but now that she was suddenly an international pop sensation, she was always on and needed to look her best.
From the screen of the girl’s phone, Alasia’s image stared back at her. Smooth mocha skin, make-up flawless and perfect. She was wearing braids for the tour and her current set had fuchsia streaks woven through them. The angle of the girl’s photo caught a bit of Alasia’s deep cleavage, pushed together by a bold black bustier.
She used to be a jeans and sneakers kind of girl, back when she was just messing around on the scene in LA, but as her popularity grew from week to week on Pop/Rock Explosion!, the producers had started encouraging her to sex up her image. The sweet little singer from East LA had been replace by a flirty siren who paraded around on teetering high heels and left bold red lipstick stains on fans when she rewarded their devotion with pecks on their cheeks.
Alasia was constantly impressed every time she got a glimpse of her new pop star self, but sometimes she had a lot of trouble recognizing the face in the mirror.
A broad male torso suddenly filled the background of the girl’s photo and Alasia saw her image frown. She didn’t even need to turn around to know who it was. The Navy SEAL logo on the t-shirt that stretched tightly across the muscular chest that loomed behind her was enough of a clue.
“Ma’am,” Zach said. “If you could just walk a little slower, I’d be grateful. I do need to you keep you in sight at all times.”
A bit of shame washed over Alasia. Zach walked with a pronounced limp. Although no one mentioned it, it was obvious that the former SEAL’s retirement was not voluntary.
“Sorry,” Alasia said over her shoulder, still too irritated with Zach to look at him. “I’m used to making these short little legs work overtime.”
Alasia was tiny, barely five foot three, and she took special care to keep her curvy form in great shape. “Don’t you go getting too skinny, girl,” her boyfriend, Devan, had warned her multiple times as her ratings on the show had grown and her star had risen. “I like my baby with a bit of booty.”
Well, there was no danger of that. Alasia loved her generous curves and kept herself happy and well fed. There was no way that she’d let herself turn into a nervous, skinny little twig like Genna Reyes, a contestant who was voted off Pop/Rock Explosion! early in the season, but was on tour with them as a back-up singer. Genna never said or did anything that was even the least bit rude, but Alasia had a hard time trusting her. Nobody was that sticky sweet without a motive.
“Ma’am? Shall we?” Zach asked, and Alasia found it hilarious that her bodyguard was now the one urging her to get to sound check. How quickly and conveniently he forgot that he’d been the one holding her back just minutes before. Typical white boy, Alasia thought, always pretending that he’s the one who came up with all the good ideas.
The PA seemed satisfied with her photo op and was happily trying filters on the selfie, so Alasia gave her one last hug and set off down the hall towards the arena.
The second she stepped on stage, the small group of early-bird fans broke into excited cheers. Zach stood in the shadow behind her, arms crossed and expression unreadable.
Alasia waved at the group of devoted on-lookers, then picked up the mic and launched into a series of vocal runs. The crowd went wild. She was a star.
***
When Alasia returned to her dress
ing room, there was a text waiting from her boyfriend, Devan. Well, actually, there were over a dozen texts from Devan, all variations of Who the hell is that huge guy behind you in that picture? Why do you got a new bodyguard?!
Alasia sighed, pulled a Diet Coke out of the mini-fridge and tapped out a quick reply to her boyfriend. Devan had been so sensitive since she’d started the tour. No, that wasn’t right. He’d been touchy and sensitive ever since she’d been accepted as a contestant on Pop/Rock Explosion! and he hadn’t. She’d tried to explain that shows like these rarely featured rappers, but he wouldn’t listen. He’d been begrudgingly supportive whenever they were seen in public together, but that was about it.
At the moment, Devan was back in LA, in the studio recording a single with some buddies. Alasia desperately hoped it would work out. She was tired of his jealousy.
“Everything all right, ma’am?” Zach asked from the doorway. She’d rudely rushed down the hall, forgetting her bodyguard’s slow walk, but if he was upset, he didn’t let it show.
She had to hand that to him, Zach was definitely in control of his emotions, unlike her boyfriend. Or Demetrius Gallow, the actual winner of last season’s Pop/Rock Explosion! Demetrius was prone to temper tantrums and had a very hard time keeping his resentment of Alasia’s success to a low simmer.
Social media had just about imploded when Demetrius was declared the winner. Everyone had thought that Alasia, with her incredible vocal range and sultry belt, was a shoo-in, but the judges were somehow swayed by Demetrius rock star swagger and smoky rasp. What the rock singer lacked in actual vocal technique, he made up in sex appeal.