by Force,Marie
Normal.
What does that even mean anymore? For a long time, my normal was work, work and more work, with an occasional meaningless screw thrown in there to keep me sane. Then Honey came into the bar and propositioned me, turning my orderly world upside down. It was fun for a while, until reality intruded to remind me that nothing lasts forever, and it’s easier not to get involved than to risk losing everything.
The buzz of the Weedwacker is oddly comforting as I clean up Jordan’s gravesite and the one belonging to her grandparents next to her. I’m ashamed of how overgrown they’ve gotten while I was too busy to tend to them. I hope her grandparents would approve of the work I’m doing to their house. I’m back to thinking I’ll sell it when it’s finished. Living there with Honey and the family we might’ve had together was nothing more than a pipe dream. I know that now.
Once she’s fully recovered, I’ll tell her in the gentlest way possible that I’ve changed my mind about us. I’d rather be alone for the rest of my life than ever go through what I did on that highway outside of San Antonio. Not to mention the endless days in the hospital when I didn’t know if she would ever wake up and look at me with those gorgeous brown eyes or smile at me in that special way she saves just for me.
I shake off those thoughts. They’re counterproductive. There’s no sense yearning for things that can never be. I’m far better off focusing on the work that has sustained me for all these years.
She’ll be disappointed, but she’ll get over it. An amazing woman like Honey won’t be single for long. Some great guy will snap her up and give her all the things I can’t. I was an absolute fool to think I’d moved far enough past what happened to Jordan to take another chance with Honey.
And if the thought of her with another guy makes me want to commit murder? Well, that’ll pass in time. Her happiness is the most important thing, and I don’t have what it takes to make myself happy, let alone anyone else.
For a couple of beautiful months, I deluded myself into believing I’d recovered from the trauma of losing Jordan. Drunk on the hottest sex of my life, I thought I was better now, ready to try again, but that turned out to be utter bullshit. While standing on that highway, fearing that I’d already lost her forever, I found out how not ready I am for anything remotely like the things I wanted with Honey.
I can’t afford to care that much about anyone, and Honey deserves better than a shell of a man who hasn’t got a goddamned thing to give her.
I’m startled out of my increasingly dire thoughts by the sight of Garrett, walking across the grass that leads to Jordan’s plot in the local cemetery. What the hell is he doing here? And how did he find me? Annoyed to be interrupted, I turn off the machine and raise the goggles that cover my eyes. “What’re you doing here?”
“Looking for you.”
“Well, you found me.”
“Surprised to find you here. I figured you’d be home with Honey by now.”
“Got stuff to do. This place doesn’t keep itself up on its own.”
“No, it doesn’t, but no one says you have to be the only one to do it.”
“I’ve always done it, and I always will, as long as I’m on this side of the grass.”
“Okay.”
“That all you came to say?”
“Actually, no. I guess I’m sort of wondering why you’re back to burying yourself in work when you have a fiancée waiting for you at home.”
“In case you didn't notice, I was away for two weeks. I had a few things to do when I came home.”
“You were caught up after the first week you were back, so I’m afraid you’re going to have to do better than that.”
“What do you want me to say?”
“I want you to tell me what’s wrong.”
“Everything is wrong! I fucked up with Honey. I never should’ve proposed to her, and now I have to undo it, and that fucking kills me.”
“Then don’t undo it.”
“I have to.”
“Why? Why do you have to?”
“Because.” I can hear the utter misery in my own voice, and I have no doubt my close friend can hear it, too.
“I have a theory I’d like to run by you. You can tell me if I’m hot, cold or even lukewarm.”
I don’t want to hear his theory, but I doubt that’ll stop him from sharing it.
“Twelve years ago, something awful happened to all of us, but mostly to you and Jordan’s family, the people who loved her best.”
Because I don’t trust myself to hold it together, I take an intense interest in the grass.
“That was a terrible time, and for years, you coped with your loss and the guilt associated with it by throwing yourself into your work. The only pleasure you allowed yourself was a beer at the end of the day, an occasional roll in the hay and limited time with your family and friends. Am I warm?”
I shrug. He’s hot as hell, but I’m not going to tell him that.
“Then you got together with Honey, and for a while, everything seemed better. You were laughing again like you hadn’t laughed in a dozen years, smiling, joking, taking chances, making plans.”
“And look at where that landed me, back in another motherfucking hospital.”
“Ahhh, and here we get to the heart of the matter, the horrible, terrible thing that almost happened again. The key word being almost. Honey’s not dead, Blake. She’s alive and well and in love with you and wondering why you’re spending your time everywhere but with her.”
“She tell you that?”
“She didn’t have to tell me. I went to her house to see you both. You weren’t there, and she didn’t know when you’d be home. You weren’t at the bar or your house, so I came out here. Now you tell me why anyone would rather spend time at the cemetery than home with the woman he loves, the woman who loves him.”
“You don’t get it!” I want to wrap my hands around his neck and strangle the life out of him. How dare he try to expose me this way? I thought he was my friend.
“Don’t tell me I don’t get it. I’ve lived every second of this journey along with you. I’ve watched you go from a happy, carefree, optimistic young man to an empty shell of a man who thinks the only way to get through each day is to power through. That is no way to live, Blake, and the Jordan I knew and loved wouldn’t want that for you.”
“Don’t you dare pretend to know what she would want.”
“Why not? You weren’t the only one who loved her. We all did. I knew her my whole life, and that sweet, loving girl would not want you to use her death as an excuse to run away from life.”
“That’s not what I’m doing.”
“Isn’t it? Isn’t it what you’ve been doing so long now that you don’t know how to do anything else when another accident rocks your world and makes you think—stupidly—that the only way to live is to take zero chances?”
I’m afraid if I say anything, I might end a lifelong friendship, so I maintain my stony silence.
Garrett takes a step closer, his voice softer when he says, “Look, I feel for you, man. Everyone does. How could something like that happen to one guy twice in a lifetime, but you know what else has happened to you twice in a lifetime?”
Forcing my gaze up to meet his, I raise a brow.
“True love. Hasn’t happened yet for me, so I’m envious that you’ve had it twice. If I were you and I had an amazing woman like Honey crazy in love with me, I’d hold on to her with everything I had.”
I want to. God knows I want to, but I can’t. “Well, you’re not me.”
“No, I’m not, and I can’t possibly fathom what it was like for you not knowing if Honey was going to make it. But she did, and how sad would it be if she went through everything she did to survive only to lose you because some idiot got drunk and decided it would be a good idea to hit the road? How is that fair to her?”
It isn’t fair, and I didn’t need Garrett to point that out to me.
“I feel for her, you know?” Garrett
said. “I mean, she was already abandoned by the most important person in her life the day she was born. I’d hate to see that happen to her again.”
“I’m not abandoning her.” But as I say the words, I feel like a knife is twisting in my chest as I recall her expressing her fear of that very thing. Isn’t that exactly what I’m planning to do? “She’ll be fine.”
“Maybe she will. Maybe she won’t. Hard to know for sure. I’ll say one more thing, and then I’ll let you get back to work.” He waits until I’m looking at him before he says, “I sure did like having my old friend Blake around the last couple of months. I hadn’t realized how much I’d missed him.”
Leaving me reeling, Garrett walks away, hands in his pockets and head down on the way to his truck. I want to run after him, to tell him he’s got it all wrong, that he doesn’t really understand, but I remain rooted to the spot where he found me, next to my dead girlfriend’s grave while the fiancée I plan to break up with waits for me at home.
When did my life get so fucked up?
At the end of my first week back to work, Lauren brings dinner over, and we eat it on the sofa while watching Steel Magnolias on TV. We lose our shit during the scene where Sally Field’s character freaks out at the cemetery after burying her daughter. We sob our heads off like a couple of fools. But then I’m not crying because Sally’s daughter died. I’m crying because at some point in the last couple of weeks, I lost Blake, and I have no idea how I’m going to survive without him.
My heart is broken into a million pieces, and he’s the only one who can put me back together. But he doesn’t want me anymore. He’s even stopped bothering to slip into bed with me at night. I haven’t seen him in three days.
Lauren realizes this meltdown has nothing to do with the movie and wraps her arms around me, holding me while I cry it out.
“I don’t understand what happened,” I say between sobs. The ring that still sits on my finger is a painful reminder of the best days of my life. “We were so happy when we left South Padre. It was perfect, until the accident happened and ruined everything.”
“I’m so sorry, Honey. I wish I knew what to say to make you feel better.”
“I can’t believe it’s over. I keep hoping he’s going to show up and miraculously be the man he was the last couple of months, but that’s not going to happen, is it?”
“I wish I knew. Garrett talked to him, and he thinks the accident triggered memories, and Blake is doing what he did before to survive by retreating into his work to avoid having to deal with the pain of nearly losing you.”
“He didn’t lose me! I’m right here, wishing he were here with me. No offense to you, of course.”
“None taken,” she says with a kind smile as she brushes the hair back from my face. “I have an idea. I’m not sure if it’s the right thing to do, but it worked once before, so who’s to say it won’t work again?”
Desperate to hear any ideas she might have, I wipe away my tears and take a big drink from my wineglass.
“What if you were to go find him and use the line that started this whole thing one more time?”
I shake my head. “He doesn’t want anything to do with me. What makes you think he’ll want to do that?”
“He wants everything with you, Honey. He just can’t give himself permission to take what he wants because he feels responsible for you getting hurt, for Jordan being killed. You have to overpower him with reminders of what he’d be giving up if he lets you go.” She takes my hand and looks directly into my eyes. “You need to be strong enough for both of you.”
“I don’t know if I am, though. I don’t feel strong at all.”
“You, Honey Carmichael, are the strongest person I’ve ever met. Look at the things you’ve already overcome in your life, things that would’ve broken a lesser person. If you want this man as much as I think you do, then you have to fight for him by reminding him of what’s at stake.”
Lauren’s faith in me brings new tears to my eyes. “What if he turns me down?”
“Then you’ll have the answer you need and can move forward knowing you did everything you could. Think about it.”
I wonder how I’ll think about anything else.
Two days later, I’ve run out of excuses for why I can’t do what Lauren suggested. I miss Blake so much that I’m willing to potentially humiliate myself if it means I get to see that handsome face and those amazing blue eyes one more time.
After work, I remove the walking boot I’m supposed to wear at least twelve hours a day for the next month, take a shower and spend extra time on my hair and makeup. I stand in front of my closet for easily half an hour before I choose a white minidress that’s quite possibly the sexiest thing I own because it leaves absolutely nothing to the imagination—not that Blake has to imagine me naked. He’s seen the real thing often enough.
I top off the outfit with my favorite red cowboy boots and quickly decide my healing ankle isn’t ready for boots. I replace them with low-heeled sandals nowhere near as fun as the boots, but at least they don’t hurt to wear. Finally, I spray perfume in all the most important places.
Then I kill a couple of hours by watching mindless TV until I’m sure it’s late enough that he’ll be home.
The drive to his house feels endless even if it takes only fifteen minutes. As I pull into his driveway, I’m flooded with memories of the night I followed him home and everything that came after. I want him back, and I’m determined to do everything I can to convince him that we can make this work if only he’d give us a fighting chance.
His house is dark, and since he parks in the garage, I have no way to know for sure if he’s actually home, but I’ve come too far to turn back now.
My palms are sweaty as I walk up to the front door and ring the doorbell, listening to it chime throughout the house. I wait for what feels like an eternity before I ring the bell again, waiting and listening for footsteps that don’t come.
Either he’s not home or he’s not answering the door. I choose the former and decide I’m not going so far as to use the code he gave me the night I brought him home drunk. Where else would he be at this hour? I have to think about that for only a second before I know exactly where I’ll find him.
Mindful of my fragile ankle, I walk slowly back to the car when I’d much rather run. I drive carefully, adhere to the speed limit and keep my eyes and attention on the road, as another accident is the very last thing I need right now. I take the last turn before the farm, and in the distance, I see the lights burning on the first floor.
My heart gives a happy leap. I’m going to see him in a few minutes, and I can’t wait. I give myself a little pep talk on the way down the driveway to the house. “No matter what happens, you’ll be fine. With him or without him, you’ll be okay.” But oh, I so hope I’ll be with him.
I pull up next to his truck, turn off the car and extinguish the headlights. No doubt he saw me coming, so there’s no point in dragging this out. Gathering all the courage I possess, I run my fingers through my hair, apply a fresh coat of lipstick and head for the front porch.
He meets me at the door, his eyes widening at the sight of me. “Honey. What’re you doing here?”
“Looking for you. May I come in?” Gran would be proud. She scrubbed the far more common “can I” from my vocabulary when I was a little girl.
“Um, yeah, sure. I guess.”
I pretend not to notice his decided lack of enthusiasm as I brush past him into the house, which is much further along than it had been the last time I was here. The kitchen cabinets are in, gorgeous copper countertops have been laid, and there’s even a sofa in the living room. I wonder if he’s been sleeping here rather than with me.
“It looks fantastic, Blake. I love the countertops.”
“Do you? I wasn’t sure about them, but the lady at the showroom talked me into them.”
“They’re perfect. And the backsplash is so cool. Did you have to place every one of those little tiles
by hand?”
“They come on twelve-by-twelve sheets.”
“Oh, that’s good. You’d be cross-eyed if you tried to do them one at a time. Show me what else you’ve done.”
He reluctantly, or so it seems to me, leads me upstairs to the master suite, where the walls have been sheet-rocked and the original wood floors restored to gleaming glory. “This door is from the original barn,” he says as he slides it to the left to reveal the master bathroom.
“Oh my God, look at that tub! It’s amazing.”
“I know how much you love your tub, so I got the biggest one they had. I figured whoever lives here would appreciate it.”
Whoever lives here… I try not to let that statement derail my determination.
I run a hand over the white marble countertop on the double vanity. And then I turn to him, forcing him to meet my gaze. He looks so exhausted that I want to wrap my arms around him and offer him a place to rest, but I’m not sure I still have the right to do that. “I thought we were going to live here. Wasn’t that the plan?”
He looks down at the floor, the agony in his expression shredding what’s left of my heart. “Honey…”
“I want you to fuck me.”
His head whips up, his eyes go wide, and his beautiful lips part in stunned amazement.
It takes everything I have, every ounce of faith in the love I feel for this man and the love I know he still feels for me, to close the distance between us, to place my hands on his chest and to look up at him looking down at me with blatant desire.
“I need you, Blake. I miss you so much, I ache from missing you. I miss your hands on me, your lips on me, your cock, your gorgeous abs, the way you look at me when you make love to me. I miss everything about us.”
I had more to say, but it’s hard to talk with someone else’s tongue in your mouth. Yep, you heard me right, he’s kissing my face off. He’s completely unhinged, as if someone threw gas on a fire, and it feels like coming home. I wrap my arms around his neck and lose myself to the thrill of being back in his arms.