Home. He was really home.
“Gotcha a soda coming, boy,” Barney hollered, his big hand still squeezing Chad’s shoulder. “Sit down and tell us all what you’ve been up to.” A beat later, he leaned in, spoke soft enough that only the two of them could hear. “Don’t worry. Laila’s working the bar, so she’ll make sure nobody tempts you with anything stronger.”
Chad’s head snapped up, catching a glimpse of her for the first time since walking in. She moved with fluid efficiency, but her shoulders were tense, her lips drawn into a tight line. He didn’t know what he’d say to her, but he had to say something, if only to head off the inevitable tension. They hadn’t ended their last conversation on good terms, and he felt pretty certain she was still fuming.
“Excuse me for a sec.” Chad eased around his uncle and made his way to the bar.
A large round torso suddenly blocked his path. “Chad Richardson! Where the devil have you been?” Beefy arms came around him and lifted him up off the ground.
Chad coughed and squirmed out of Orlando’s tight grip, pain ripping up his side. He’d been healing quickly, but his ribs still hurt. “Here and there,” he answered, carefully easing out of the giant’s hold.
The guy had been an offensive lineman in high school—all-American with a full ride to Georgia. He came back a year later, got a job at the factory, and declared college a waste of time.
“Katie’s back too. You seen her yet? She’s all dignified now. Still hot as fire, though.”
Chad couldn’t help the smile. Orlando had been crushing on his friend for almost a decade now. “Yeah, I’ve seen her. What about you?”
“I’m officially a married man.” He held up his fat left hand and belly laughed. Orlando had easily gained fifty pounds since Chad last saw him, all around the middle. “Two years running. She’s a beauty, isn’t she?” Fumbling with his phone, Orlando pulled up a picture of his wife, who was far better looking than her husband, to be sure.
“Yes, she is. Congratulations.” He slapped his old friend’s bicep and inched forward, a polite way of implying he was ready to move on. But the guy remained planted in front of him.
Orlando glanced over his shoulder to the bar. “Listen,” he said, his voice barely audible. “You know I’d get your back any day of the week, but let’s not start the night out with conflict.”
“Conflict?” But even as the words came out, the world dropped out from beneath his feet. Laila stood on the far side of the bar, talking with a guy cut straight out of a Macy’s catalogue. He leaned in, his hair so intensely gelled that it didn’t move as it brushed up against her cheek. Chad’s gaze dipped to their joined fingers on the counter.
“Yeah. Of course.” His heart twisted with the words, but he turned until the two of them were no longer visible.
Orlando’s shoulder bumped his. “Hey, don’t look so freaked out. I saw her face when you walked in. That guy’s a distraction. Nothing else. And if he becomes more, well then, you know where to find me.” He lifted his chin and forked off to the right, leaving Chad alone and hollow.
Suddenly, all he could see, smell, and taste were the bottles on the table. He wanted to fill the void, block out the pain, and burn away the memory of another man’s touch on Laila.
The walls began to move, pressing in, choking him. He eyed the bathroom, but escaping in that direction would put him directly in line with Laila’s—his stomach cramped—date. And in this state, Chad couldn’t be certain he wouldn’t do something stupid.
The swinging kitchen door moved in his peripheral, and every muscle in his body began to unwind. Joe could calm him down. The room became a blur as Chad pushed toward his escape. More people came to speak to him, but he ignored them all with a curt nod. His skin tingled. Someone had spilled a drink on his boots, and the smell was working its way into his nostrils, beckoning him like a drug.
A figure knocked him to the left, just hard enough that he stumbled into a skinny little thing near the table by the back wall. “Sorry” echoed in the air as Chad regained his balance and kept the young girl from toppling over.
Her eyes flashed with shock, then slid into a grateful gleam when she realized he had a firm grasp.
“Sorry. I wasn’t paying attention and got sideswiped.” He let go of her arm and noticed the apron around her waist. “You work here?”
“Yeah. Joe hired me on a few months ago. And who might you be?” Though she couldn’t have been much older than nineteen, her gaze swept over him in such an intimate way that he almost choked. Young or not, she’d long ago stopped being innocent.
He took a small step back. “Chad Richardson. I, um, recently came back into town.”
“Yeah, I figured as much. I definitely would have noticed if you’d been here before.” She glanced down at her bare legs. “Oh shoot. I got beer on my shorts.” Lifting her apron to expose the shortest pair of cutoffs Chad had seen since high school, the girl slowly wiped a napkin across the smooth tan skin by her thigh. She glanced up through her eyelashes and caught him looking, but his awareness only brought a bigger smile.
“So you’re a Richardson, huh?” She let the apron drop back into place and somehow managed to move closer to him in the process. Wow, this girl was . . . well, she undoubtedly made good tips. “You related to grumpy old Barney?”
Chad shrugged away his discomfort, happy to have something to focus on other than Laila. “Yeah. He’s my uncle.”
“So, does irritability run in the family?” Her lacquered fingernails invitingly grazed his forearm. “Or are you friendlier?”
“Charity, you need to serve tables seven and twelve.” Laila’s tight voice behind his ear made the hair on his neck rise. “They’ve been sitting there for ten minutes.”
The harshness in Laila’s tone seemed to have no effect on the girl. She turned slowly, pressing closer to his chest. “Nice to meet you, Chad. My shift ends at midnight.” Her hand lightly brushed his thigh as she walked by.
Slightly amused and slightly horrified by Charity’s brazen invitation, he spun around to find Laila, her arms crossed, her face cold and angry. She watched Charity like a cat, then turned accusing eyes to him. “What are you doing here?”
There were so many words trying to make their way out of him that he couldn’t speak at all. She’d rejected him multiple times. She’d brought a boyfriend here, to Joe’s, like their memories were that insignificant. And now she had the audacity to look ready to pounce simply because a girl flirted with him in her presence? No. She didn’t get to have it both ways.
“Just because you don’t want to see me doesn’t mean I have to stay in hiding.” Chad put his hands in his pockets, fought for some level of restraint. “Barney got me a job. The least I could do was come here and have a drink with him.”
He couldn’t help but glance at the guy she’d left by the bar. He was watching, and judging by his scowl, Chad was certain the guy knew exactly who he was.
He stepped closer to Laila. Time to have a little fun.
“What’s with the mood? Does my being here bother you?” He lightly brushed the stray hair around her temple, a touch so familiar and intimate that Laila’s careful composure seemed to slip. He dropped his fingers and smiled when her own ran over the same spot as if to wipe away the sensation.
“Yeah, it bothers me. You’re in recovery. You don’t need to be around a bunch of drunks.” In her frustration, she moved closer to him, and all Chad could picture was pulling her to him and crushing his mouth to hers.
Laila’s temper didn’t flair often, but when it did, she was like a bright, furious flame of passion. He loved that about her, almost as much as he loved the fact that no one but him seemed to evoke such an extreme reaction.
He leaned in, and the heat from her flushed cheeks all but evaporated his earlier need to escape. Seeing her like this reminded him of exactly why he needed to fight. “You don’t have to be jealous. Say the word, and I’m yours.” Laila wanted him as much as he wanted her,
and every person in that room could feel it. Including her soon-to-be-ex-rebound standing halfway across the bar.
Coming just a hairsbreadth from kissing her cheek, Chad straightened and winked at the guy watching with violence raging in his eyes. “By the way, you might want to check on your guest. Looks like he’s ready to blow a gasket.” He squeezed her fingers. They were cold and trembling. Exactly how he felt. “Hope you have a nice evening. I’m going to go catch up with Joe.”
CHAPTER 23
Sometimes people didn’t need to say when their feelings had changed; it was written in their facial expressions, the way they carried their shoulders, the sudden absence of affection.
And Laila knew, within the ten steps it took to return to the bar, that she was losing Ben.
“Can you take a break?” he asked, so calm and distant that she nodded without thought of the bar. She’d tell Charity on the way out and hope they still had cash in the register when she returned.
Ben allowed Laila to take his hand, but his fingers were slack in hers, even as he led her out the front door and into the parking lot. A gaggle of couples hung around two nearby trucks, so Ben continued walking until the lights from the bar were far enough away that half his face was veiled in shadow.
He took her other hand and just stared at her—face to face, breath to breath—without moving. “I can’t do it,” he finally said.
Tears swarmed her eyes, blurring his face in front of her. All her efforts, all her work to rebuild a future for herself, had been wiped away in one unexpected moment.
“I spent the last year of my marriage fighting off my gut feeling that something was terribly wrong. Courtney assured me everything was fine, and I wanted to believe her, so I pushed down that gnawing sensation time and time again.” He paused and squeezed her hands, to comfort her or himself, she wasn’t sure. “I was right back then, and, Laila, that feeling has been hounding me for weeks now, and tonight, I finally accepted that I’m right again.”
She should have stayed next to Ben. Should have ignored the way Charity’s eyes lingered on Chad, the way her mouth smiled wickedly and without imagination.
“But I want to be with you.” Her voice cracked.
“I absolutely believe that, which is why I’m disappointed more than angry. I have no doubt in my mind that you are fighting every part of yourself to make this work between us. But, Laila, it shouldn’t be such a battle.”
Feeling her future slipping between her fingers, Laila detangled her hands from his and lifted them to his face. “A few more weeks. That’s all we have to wait, then I’ll be in Burchwood. We’ll be minutes apart.”
Fingers encircled her wrists, pulling, adding back the distance she’d tried so hard to close. “Our proximity won’t make Chad go away, or the feelings you obviously still have for him.” The words were spoken with such finality that a shiver coursed through her limbs.
He had to give her another chance. “Tonight wasn’t normal. I was taken off guard. I didn’t know he was coming.”
“Maybe. But I can’t take that risk. If it were just me, I don’t know. But I have a son, and above anything else, protecting his little heart comes first.” Ben’s voice softened and he let go of her wrists. Her arms fell limply at her sides. “Every time we’re together, I fall a little harder, but I’m not totally gone yet. If I walk away now, I can still recover.”
“Ben.” Her voice pleaded as much as her body did to fight through the wall he’d suddenly erected. “I just need a little more time. Can’t you give me that?”
As if he were combating his own heart, Ben ran a hand down his face, frustration finally trumping the cool exterior. “Answer me this question, Laila.”
She nodded, waiting for him to speak again. Whatever he needed to ask, she’d answer him honestly. He deserved that.
“Do you feel for me even half as much as you did for Chad the day you married him?”
Laila opened her mouth, hoping some fantastic explanation would fall out, but nothing came. She wanted to answer yes—wished she could answer yes. But she couldn’t. Not truthfully. She hung her head, unable to admit what Ben already knew. She’d never love anyone the way she had her ex-husband.
Ben sighed, her hesitancy far louder than a no would have been. “The worst part of all of this is that I believe in marriage, in vows spoken and kept. If you were anyone else, I would encourage you to try and reconcile with him.” She continued to gnaw on her lip, tears spilling down her cheeks. He lightly wiped one away. “Unfortunately, you’re not just anyone, so you’ll understand why I may need some distance from you for a while.” She watched as his leather shoes moved toward her, then felt hot moisture on her forehead, his kiss light and nonnegotiable. “Good-bye, Laila.”
Then he was gone, the echo of his retreating footsteps the only sound she could hear besides the chirping of crickets and the rolling fury that had begun to grow in her gut.
This was all Chad’s fault. He’d come to the bar on purpose tonight. He’d known his presence would rattle her. And why not? Ruining her relationship had been his goal from the beginning. From the moment he’d received that stupid phone call from Cooper. It wasn’t enough that he’d abandoned her and broken her heart. No, he intended to keep her captive until the day she died.
No!
She wanted to scream it so loud that it could be heard past the flower shop and all the way to city hall. The rage twisted and turned, vengeance spilling through her veins and into her fingertips. Chad’s expression filled her mind. That half smile and amused gleam that could needle well below her skin. She whirled around, her steps carrying her across the gravel with a predator’s determination. In two heartbeats, she’d be close enough to slap that grin right off his smug, cocky face.
CHAPTER 24
Chad shifted in his seat, waiting for his old friend to respond. Joe tapped his steepled fingers together, his elbows resting on an array of paperwork spread across his wide oak desk. Chad had spent the last ten minutes telling him about Atlanta and why he’d been gone for so long.
“So Slim is definitely out of the picture now?” Joe’s bushy silver brows lifted with concern.
“Yes.”
“And you’ve told Laila why you left? Why you stayed away so long?”
For once, Chad felt a rush of pride. “Yes, everything. There are no secrets between us anymore.”
“Good, I’m glad to hear it. And, Chad, I’m really happy you’re clean. It’s nice to see you home.” Joe placed his palms on the desk and pushed until he stood. Despite his small stature, Joe’s presence was formidable. “But, don’t mistake my support for absolution. Your addiction hurt a lot of people. Your beautiful wife, especially.”
And the pride vanished instantly. “I know.”
“She’s stronger than most, I’ll give you that. But this is it. Your final chance. One screw up,” Joe lifted a finger, “and I mean one, and I’ll throw you out of this town myself. Do you understand?”
“Yes. Believe me. If I fail again, I’ll let her go, for good.”
The office door crashed open with a reverberating bang. Chad jumped to his feet, his heart a tumbling gallop until his eyes registered the tall blonde in the doorway. She put her hands on the frame, her forearms flexing as if she were holding on for balance. “Joe, I feel pretty certain you don’t want me anywhere near your customers right now.”
The man looked between Chad and Laila and held up his hands. “Fine. Just please, if you need to break something, take it out on your own glassware. Not mine.”
Laila shifted out of the way when Joe slid by but never once took her furious gaze off Chad. Eyes wild, torso taut, Laila had never looked more beautiful.
The mask of civility was finally gone, and there before him stood the woman she used to be, the one who’d starred in every dream he’d had since childhood.
“Are you happy now?” she demanded, slamming the door once Joe was safely through. The black shirt she wore pulled tight against her chest. Her
shorts were a decent length, but they still showed a pair of finely shaped tan legs. Ones he’d run his hands over too many times to count.
He forced his attention back to her face, but the glow of fury only made his fingers tingle. “Happy about what?” He squeezed the back edge of the chair, wanting to touch her so bad it hurt. She became a blazing inferno when her temper finally lit. Sometimes he’d push her on purpose, just to see her this way.
“Ben just broke up with me.”
Mischief coiled and sprang within him. That had been much too easy. “Did he? I’m sorry.”
“You’re not sorry.” She shook her head, and her wavy strands danced across her cheekbones. “You planned this from the very beginning.”
Chad forced himself not to burst into a canary-eating grin. “I don’t know why you’re so mad at me. All I did was come in here and visit with some old friends. I didn’t even talk to the guy.” He shouldn’t feel so smug, but if Ben wasn’t willing to fight for Laila, he didn’t deserve her anyway.
“You didn’t have to talk to him.” She took a step forward, eyeing his not so successful attempt at hiding his satisfaction. “Showing up was enough.”
“And why is that, Laila? Maybe because everyone but you can see that we belong together? That we’ve always belonged together.”
She backed away, her breath hitching as if he’d lanced her. “I had a chance to be free.” Her lips trembled, reducing Chad’s earlier glory to bone-chilling agony. “Do you really hate me that much?”
That look. He couldn’t stand it. The broken, devastated look of a person who’d just lost her only chance at happiness. She truly believed he could never offer her more than pain.
“You know I don’t hate you.”
“Then help me understand. Because it feels like the moment I finally built a life outside of you and your addiction, the moment I finally let go of the memories and the dreams and moved on, you’re back here again . . . telling me you’ve changed!” Accusation mixed with her growing volume, and he could feel his own temper sparking. “Forgive me if I don’t buy it.”
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