by Kim Loraine
Sully couldn’t help his smile. It really was possible that Grace and Sloan could do just that. “Her dad was the mayor when we dated.”
“Really?” Drew asked, eyebrows raised.
He nodded, remembering the man who’d ruined his life. “Yep. A real ball-buster, too. He hated me.”
A laugh fell from Drew. “Well, that’s a father’s right. I can guarantee you any boy who comes within a stone’s throw of my girls will get the same treatment.”
“Sure they will,” Grace said, chuckling. “Come on, let’s go out back and get something to eat. I’m sure the girls are driving my dad crazy.” She hooked her arm in Drew’s and pulled him toward the back of the house, glancing over her shoulder. “You coming, Sully?”
He considered going across the street to Sloan’s, but it wasn’t the right time. They needed to ease back into being in the same town. He shoved his hands in his pockets, nodded, and followed. It took everything he had to stop thinking of how beautiful she’d looked in her polka-dot dress, but he made his way to where the girls were playing and scooped one up in each arm. They squealed with delight as he spun them around, but all he could think about was Sloan and the life they could have had.
~ ~ ~
“Ha! Scratch. Pay up, Sullivan.” Michael Oliver whooped as he collected his winnings and pulled his wife, Lena, close. “Did you see that, baby? I told you I’d make up for losing last time.”
“Anyone tell you you’re a sore loser? You can’t blame the warped pool cues anymore.”
Michael narrowed his eyes. “I didn’t blame anything.”
“Ha! That’s a load of shit. You told everyone who would listen last weekend at Gracie’s.” Sully rolled his eyes and squirmed out from under the wandering hands of Chassity Garcia. He’d dated her briefly a few years ago but they’d never gotten past the booty-call phase. Clearly, from the look in her eyes and the amount of alcohol she’d been putting away, she was looking to get laid tonight. She’d have to look elsewhere.
“So? Are you going to take me home tonight, handsome?” she asked.
Bingo. A few months ago he might have done exactly that. She was beautiful. A handful, but at her core she had a good heart. Now, with Sloan back in his world he was pretty sure no other woman would be able to satisfy him. “No, darlin’. I’m good.”
She frowned, confusion marring her pretty features. “Really? We always have such a good time.”
“I’m . . . taking a break from hookups.”
“What? Have you met you? Sully, you’ve been exclusively hookups for as long as I’ve known you. Longer if I heard it right from my brother-in-law.”
Alex shouldn’t be telling Chassity anything about him. That wasn’t his business. He ignored her comment and racked the balls, eyeing Michael. “You up for another game?”
His friend chuckled before shaking his head. “Nope. I’m taking my wife home. The baby is at her mom’s tonight for a sleepover. I’m going to be busy all fucking night.”
Lena blushed and swatted him playfully. They left without another glance back at the small group.
Pete’s was packed with people as karaoke got into full swing. Sully surveyed the crowd and as he approached the big wooden counter, he caught the eye of Dominique, his favorite bartender. She never hit on him, just kept him in beer and conversation when he needed it.
“Hey, Sully. What do you need?”
“Irish Death.”
“Got it.” She turned and filled a pint glass with the dark beer. When she returned, she placed his drink in front of him. “You’re not your usual cheerful self. What’s going on?”
He sighed before taking a long drink. “Fucking ghosts.”
She frowned. “What?”
“Nothing.”
The familiar intro for a country song started up, drawing the attention of most of the crowd as whoops and hollers filled the room. A smoky, sexy as fuck voice began singing and his hair stood on end as he saw her. Why do the teachers have to come here all the damn time? Sloan stood on the stage, singing like she was born to be there. Goddamn was she beautiful. And not his. He’d be better off leaving and letting her get on with her life, but he’d always been a glutton for punishment. He settled in, watched her move, her body an extension of the powerful voice she’d always had. Confidence blossomed from her as the song kicked to the chorus and the audience cheered her on. By the time she finished, her cheeks were flushed and she was laughing. Then that guy he’d seen her with far too many times helped her down from the stage, his hands lingering on her waist just a little too long for Sully’s comfort.
Damn. He wasn’t going to be able to be friends with her if every time he saw her with another guy he wanted to throat punch the dude.
“So . . . you sure you’re good?” Dominique asked.
“Good is relative. I’m alive. Healthy. Sane . . . for the most part. I’m as good as I can possibly be.” He left off the part about the love of his life standing there like a goddess, paying attention to a man who wasn’t him.
“Okay, then.”
Dominique sauntered off, shaking her head. Sully turned his attention back to Sloan and wished with all he had in him that he’d decided to stay home tonight. Her date had his hand on her cheek, cupping it just like Sully had loved to do. He couldn’t look away as Sloan’s eyes closed and the guy dropped his lips to hers. Right there in front of every fucking person in town. Unreasonable jealousy curled in his gut. It was time to get home. He wasn’t doing himself any favors by watching Sloan on a date with another man.
After paying his tab, he headed outside. The crisp September air cleared his head and gave him room to breathe. He needed time before he felt comfortable driving so he paced the parking lot. He wished he could unsee that damn kiss. It shouldn’t hurt so much, but there wasn’t any way around it. Sloan would always be a tender spot for him.
He leaned against his car, trying to will away the memory of her lips on another man’s when her sweet voice caught his ear.
“I’m sorry, Beckett.”
Beckett? What kind of name was Beckett? Sully stayed out of view, but continued eavesdropping, not giving a damn if this was none of his business.
“It’s fine. I just misread things.” The guy actually sounded genuine. Maybe he wasn’t an asshole after all. “It’s that firefighter, isn’t it?”
Sully’s pulse sped and he couldn’t help but wonder about the answer.
“No. Carson and I have a history, but there’s nothing between us now. There hasn’t been for a long time. We were just stupid kids who thought we were in love. But you can’t know anything about love until you’ve really lived.” She sighed and the defeated sound made his chest burn. Is that what she really thought about their time together? Because to him, it had been everything.
“So,” Beckett started, the crunch of gravel under his shoes making Sully cringe as he visualized the guy closing in on Sloan. “Can we try that kiss again?”
Oh, fuck no. She wasn’t going to let him kiss her again, was she? This was fucking torture. He couldn’t get in his car now. She’d see him.
“Becks, I’m sorry. I like you, I really do. But when you kissed me earlier I realized it’s not right between us. There’s something . . . missing. Maybe I’m just not ready.”
Thank you, Jesus. Sully sagged against his car, relief flooding him.
Shuffling footsteps filled the night air and he heard Beckett let out a harsh breath. “I’m not going to lie and say this feels good. But, I get it. Come on, I’ll take you home.”
The click of doors shutting followed by the engine rumbling to life had Sully rushing to his own driver’s side and sliding in. The last thing he needed was to have Sloan catch him out here.
He tossed his head back, closed his eyes, and breathed deep. Her words tumbled aro
und in his mind as he tried to pull truth from them. She’d said they’d been stupid kids. That much was obvious. When you’re seventeen you think the world owes you something, that it owes you a happy ending. But they had been in love. And it was the deep and forever kind. The kind of love that tangles itself in every cell and can’t be cut out. There was no denying it. As much as he’d hated her for what she’d done, he would always love her for everything else they’d shared.
They say you never get over your first love. That person leaves a permanent impression on your heart. But what if his heart only had room for Sloan?
Chapter 7
Fifteen years ago
It had been three days since Sloan had changed his entire world with two words. He’d been an idiot to tell her their baby was going to ruin their lives. But she wouldn’t answer his calls. So, he’d sat outside her house until the police arrived and gave him two options. Leave or get arrested. He didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t let her go, let them go. He stared down at the engagement ring he’d gotten from his mom. It was the same one his dad had given her. He’d expected her to be ashamed or disappointed that he and Sloan had been reckless. But all his mom had done was hug him and tell him God had plans they couldn’t understand.
Now, he stood outside Cups with the ring in his pocket, feeling a little like a stalker. He’d seen her go inside with her mom. He wasn’t leaving until he had her forever.
He leaned against the wall next to the door and waited, eyes closed against the light of the setting sun. A heavy hand landed on his shoulder, startling him. He blinked up into the face of Sloan’s father. The man was seething. Rage boiled behind eyes the same color as Sloan’s.
“Come with me, kid. We need to talk.”
Mr. Carmichael didn’t let go of his shoulder. His big fingers dug into Sully’s muscles, just this side of too hard.
“I need to talk to Sloan,” Sully said, fighting the pull free of the man’s grip as they walked away from Cups.
“No. You’ve done enough damage. Don’t you think?”
“I love her.”
The man let out a bitter laugh. “Love? You knocked her up. That’s not love. That’s biology. If you loved her, you’d have been smart. You’d let her go so she doesn’t get sucked into a life she’ll hate. Instead, you ruined her life.”
“No. I want her to be happy. She can have that with me. She’ll be happier with me than she ever has been living with you. You think I ruined her life? What about you? She has to leave everything she knows because you can’t keep your hands off your secretaries.”
“That’s enough from you. She’s done. You can’t give her anything.”
“I can and I will. We can have our family. We’ll make it work. I want to marry her.”
“You think I’m going to let you drag her down with you? She’s going to do more with her life than be the wife of a loser who’ll never leave this town.”
His gut clenched as the man echoed Sully’s own fears. “You don’t know anything about me.”
“I don’t need to. Sloan is leaving with us in two days.”
“She’s pregnant with my baby. You can’t keep my kid from me.”
Mr. Carmichael shook his head. “No. There is no baby. She and her mother took care of that two days ago.”
Sully’s blood ran cold. No. Sloan wouldn’t do that. She wouldn’t. “That’s not true.” He hated the whisper of doubt in his breaking voice.
“It is. I drove them there myself. It was the hardest thing my daughter has ever done, but the best decision she could’ve made.”
Sully couldn’t breathe. In one decision made without him she’d broken his heart, his trust, and taken a piece of his soul with her.
“No,” he whispered.
Her dad patted him on the back and for once, gave him a sympathetic look. “I’m sorry it ended this way, son. But you two are better off with a clean break. She doesn’t want to see you. Stay out of her life.”
The man walked away, his tall form a dark silhouette in Sully’s vision. He watched until Sloan and her mother came out of Cups. Did she look sad? He couldn’t tell. But when she looked over her shoulder and saw him standing there, her face paled. His entire world went gray at the edges. Then, without a word, she walked out of his life.
He sank onto a bench near the end of the boardwalk, the sting of tears burning his eyes and nose. The small diamond ring sat like a lead weight in his pocket. He pulled out the thin gold band and held it between his fingers and stared at the glittering stone. He promised himself one thing. He’d never love anyone again. No one would own his heart the way Sloan had.
~ ~ ~
Two weeks had passed since Sloan rejected Beckett’s advances. She still cringed when she thought about it. Had she really led him on purposely because Carson had been at the bar? Or genuinely thought there might be something between her and her coworker? The moment Beckett touched his lips to hers she’d known. There’d been nothing. Just warm skin and beer on his breath. When Carson had touched her, a simple brush of his hand over hers, there’d been a sizzle, that same spark they’d always shared.
“Stop it, Sloan,” she said to her empty house.
She glanced around the cluttered living room and sighed. Her grandpa had so much from forty years of living in the same home. A great deal was junk, but some held nostalgia. Pictures of her as a child filled an open shoebox, making her grin. She grabbed one of her sitting on his lap in the backyard. She wore a goofy, gap-toothed smile and held a red, white, and blue popsicle up alongside her grandfather’s matching treat. That was why she couldn’t sell his home. He’d moved here to be close to them after her grandmother passed away. This was his legacy. But it was hers now. She’d been here almost two months. So far, all she’d done was tackle the study. It was time to start making it her own.
She cranked up her music, gave herself to the upbeat British pop, and danced around as she collected old magazines, newspapers, and mail from years ago. God, all this paper was a fire hazard. That’s the last thing she needed. Carson to ride in on his big ass fire truck and rescue her again.
The thought of him in his bunker gear made her pulse race. He’d looked . . . so damn good. She forced her thoughts back to the mundane task ahead of her. Hours of busywork would keep her mind from anything related to him.
Twenty minutes later, she stood surrounded by piles of organized chaos. The living room looked worse than it had when she’d started, but at least she had a plan. She stepped over a pile of five years’ worth of newspapers, she headed toward the garage. The door squeaked as she opened it and stepped inside the cramped space. How had her grandfather let it get this bad? She grabbed the broken-down cardboard in one hand and scanned the room for a roll of packing tape. The wall of shelves loomed over her as she scanned each level for the tape gun. When the handle of the tape gun came into view she let out a little cry of frustration. It was there, at the top of the shelf, sticking out of a box.
She cursed her five-foot-four frame, then dropped the boxes and searched for a stool or ladder. When she found nothing, she frowned and pushed a sturdy looking plastic container over to the metal shelves. Carefully standing on the bin, she reached as high as her arms would go and still only grazed the bottom of the box with her fingers. She bounced and hit the box until it scooted toward the edge of the shelf. As soon as she’d gone too far she realized her mistake. The entire box tumbled to the ground, spilling the contents everywhere. Papers fluttered through the air, raining down on her, and the tape gun landed on her outstretched arm, scraping her skin before clattering to the ground.
“Shit!”
Her arm burned where the teeth of the gun had bitten into her. It was just a series of shallow cuts, but she needed to clean it. After she got down, she moved toward the garage door but stopped when a picture of her and Carson fe
ll at her feet. She couldn’t resist picking up the photo. She sat on the short staircase that led up to the door and stared at two people who’d had so much hope for their future together. She let her fingers trail over Carson’s image and allowed her mind to wander.
The first time she was ever kissed was by him. He’d taken her on a date after weeks of her playing hard to get. When she’d finally agreed his smile had reached all the way to his eyes, and he kissed her right there in front of the whole school. He got detention, but when she met him afterward he’d told her it was worth it and he’d do it again if it meant he’d get to kiss her. That was the beginning of so many happy moments. It was a shame how easily a plus sign on a plastic stick wiped everything else away.
Tears burned in her eyes as her vision blurred and her chest tightened.
“Sloan! Are you in here?” Megan’s voice carried through the door. Sloan wiped her eyes and stood, the photo still in her hand.
Inside the house, she came face-to-face with her friend. “Um, how did you get inside?”
“Oh, I called but you didn’t answer. When I saw your car in the drive I figured I’d stop by. I just used the hide-a-key.”
What? There was a hide-a-key? “Where did you find that?”
“Under the ugly garden gnome. On the porch.” Megan laughed. “Wait, you didn’t know there was a key to your house sitting on your porch?”
“No. How did you know?”
“Just a guess.”
“Thank God it was you who broke in and not an ax murderer.”
She waved a dismissive hand. “There aren’t any ax murderers in Golden Beach. Most people still leave their doors unlocked during the day.”
“Yeah, that’s not going to happen here. My door will remain locked. I’m not taking the chance. Can I have the key?”