by Toni Aleo
A little breathless, Gen shifted her gaze, taking a pull of her beer. Looking back at her longtime friend—even though they hadn’t stayed in contact unless she was in Spring Grove—she smiled. “When did you get so smart?”
“2015, I think, when I got dumped for having a fat ass and not having any intentions of changing that.”
Gen shook her head. “His loss.”
“Exactly. I’d already lost over a hundred pounds by then. I’m done.”
Gen smiled, remembering when Delaney was larger, but her friend had always been beautiful. It was her heart; Delaney would do anything for anyone. Just like her mawmaw would. They were good people, that was for sure. “I think you’re perfect.”
“Sound like my mawmaw,” she laughed, and Gen smiled. “I’m good, and I know that. And you should know that too. You deserve someone who will be there beside you no matter what. No matter if you want to have ten kids or none. If you want to write or if you want to eat Ho Hos and watch TV. It doesn’t matter because they love you, ya know?”
Gen nodded. She felt exactly the same, but why couldn’t Montgomery? “Yeah, I know.”
“So don’t be dumb.”
Laughing, she leaned into Delaney, shaking her head. “Don’t hold back there, friend.”
“Never,” she said with a wink before she held up her beer, which Gen clinked hers to. “You’re too pretty and nice not to be loved for who you are.”
“Thanks, Delaney.”
“Anytime.”
The ladies shared a long look, a look that told Gen she was better than this and she knew it. But could she throw it all away? Five years was a long time to be with someone, to love them, or to think you loved them. Jesus, had she really been wasting that much of her life? Before she could really commit to that idea, the jukebox changed, and Keith Urban’s “The Fighter” started blaring through the bar. Hopping up, Delaney took her hand and then dragged her out to the dance floor where they both let the music take control, the whiskey allowing them both to let go and dance like no one was watching. Though Gen knew everyone was since they were the only ones on the floor.
They danced and sang for what seemed like hours, getting more beer and even more shots. They were having a blast. When they both sat down, ordering another round, Gen leaned into the bar, inhaling hard as she reached for her phone out of her purse. She had four missed calls from Montgomery.
Shit.
“Oh! There’s Larry!”
Before Gen could comment, Delaney hopped up and was heading toward where Larry Yarbrough was walking in with some guys behind him. Gen didn’t get a good look at anyone though because she looked back at her phone, seeing that Montgomery had texted her too.
Montgomery: And see, when I have something to say, you don’t have time to answer me.
Rolling her eyes, she got up and headed out the side door into the hot summer night. Hitting Montgomery’s number, she waited as the phone rang.
“I called and texted.”
“I know, that’s why I’m calling you back,” she answered, annoyed. “I didn’t hear it before.”
“Are you drunk?”
She closed her eyes, pressing her lips together. “Tipsy at best.”
“So you’re out drinking? I thought you were working.”
“I worked all day. I’m having some fun with Delaney Abbot. You remember her, don’t you?”
“The fat chick?”
“Montgomery, that’s rude.”
“What? It’s true.”
“No, it’s not,” Gen defended, shaking her head. “Yes, she is thicker.”
“So you’re out drinking with her? Only her? ’Cause I hear music.”
“I’m at a bar.”
He scoffed and then bit out dismissively, “Okay, well go have fun.”
“Wait,” she said, praying he didn’t hang up. “I’m just letting loose.”
“You had to leave to do that?”
“No, not at all. I’ve come to write, and that’s what I’ve been doing. I don’t want to fight.”
“Well, I don’t want my fiancée parading all over God’s green earth, getting drunk and whatnot when she told me she was getting away to work. It’s bullshit. If you don’t want to be with me, don’t.”
“Mont, I’m working, I am. I just wanted to come out with my friend for a night.”
“Yeah, I’m sure. Go have fun, maybe I’ll do the same. Go get shit-faced and fuck around.”
“I’m not doing that! What the hell?”
“I bet. If that weren’t the case, then you could have ‘worked’ here.”
“I need my special place. I was struggling at home. I was stressed out.”
“Stressed out from picking out words for a book? It must be hard choosing between cock and dick. You poor thing, try being me. I am stressed, I am busy making money for our family, and you’re just playing around. Get it together, Genevieve.”
She was speechless. How dare he. “Wow, do you really think that’s all I do?”
“I don’t fucking care, but I do care when you’re out, getting drunk, and probably looking for someone to fuck.”
“I don’t understand, Mont. Why are you acting like this? I’ve never cheated!”
“Nope, but you went to the place where he lives in, the one you lost. Remember when you told me that?” She rolled her eyes. It had been so long ago when Gen had apparently admitted to missing Theo and wishing he hadn’t gotten away. Eons ago. What was Montgomery’s problem?
“Oh my God, I was drunk, and I still don’t believe I actually said that!”
“You did. I was there. So go on, find him. Fuck him. I don’t fucking care.”
“That’s not my intention at all. I’m here to work—”
But before she could finish, the line went dead, and she let her hand fall to her hip. “Asshole.”
Tears stung her eyes as she shook her head. What the hell was happening? She had just wanted to go out drinking. That was it. Let loose, have fun with her girlfriend. Why was he treating her like this? Was she in the wrong?
“Wow, he sounds like a dick.” Looking in the direction of where the voice came from, she could see a guy push off the wall of the bar. She hadn’t even realized he was there. As he snuffed out his cigarette, he walked by her, and Lord was he big. Tall, long legs in a pair of worn jeans, and a thin shirt. His arms were covered in tattoos, but she couldn’t see his face in the shadows. All she could make out was his dark, bushy beard. Before she could answer him, or even comment, really, he reached for the door, pulling it open, and heading inside without another word.
Exhaling heavily, Gen murmured, “Yeah.” She really didn’t understand how this had all happened. She had no ill intentions. She wanted to write, she wanted to hang with her friend, and spend time in her town. What was wrong with that?
Nothing.
Nothing was wrong with that.
Fuck him. If Montgomery wanted to act like that, well, fuck him!
Stuffing her phone into her back pocket, she pulled the door open with all the force she had in her. It slammed against the wall as she walked straight up to the bar where she’d left her purse—something you could only do in a town the size of Spring Grove. Leaning on the bar, she tapped her shot glass to the bar and yelled out, “Six more, please!”
The bartender just smiled, shaking his head as Delaney looked down the bar at her. She was leaning on Larry, a grin on her face, until suddenly, it was gone. Her eyes widened, and her mouth parted, confusing Gen, but then she realized Delaney wasn’t looking at her. She was looking at the guy two stools down from Gen.
Unsure why Delaney was focused on a stranger, Gen hollered out, “You gonna come help me with these?”
Delaney’s mouth moved as the bartender went to work filling the glasses, but no words were leaving her mouth. Gen went to say more, but then the guy beside her was moving. “Put those on my tab.”
Gen waved him off. “Thank you, but they’re for my girlfriend and me.”
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“She’s busy. Do them with me,” he suggested, reaching for one and handing it to her. She took it, a little taken aback, but then she looked up into his face. His eyes were blazing blue, crinkled at the sides. She swore she knew those eyes. Holding up the glass, he murmured, “To old times.”
Her stomach dropped, her eyes widening as the realization of who was standing in front of her dawned on her. Before she could move, talk, or even take the shot, the bartender said, “Theo, you don’t have a tab.”
A grin pulled at his lips and basically knocked Gen unconscious, just like it had when they were younger. “Start me one.”
He clinked his glass to hers before downing the shot. Letting out a loud grunt, he slammed it on the bar, his eyes still trained on hers. Gen wasn’t even sure she was breathing. “You gonna shoot that?”
Her mouth was dry as she stared at him in disbelief. “Theo?”
Chapter Eight
“One and only.”
Gen felt like she was going to drop the shot as he clinked the next one to hers and shot it with ease. Her heart was slamming against her chest, and her throat was closing up as she drank him in. His dark locks were disheveled and curled defiantly against his ear. His jaw was thick and full of even more unruly curly hair. But his eyes were still the exact same, blazing blue with dark lashes that were long and straight. He wasn’t skinny like he used to be, instead thick with muscle, and boy was he toned. Gone was the boy she had known, leaving behind a man who was meant to be admired.
Or worshiped.
“Well, hot damn, Genny, I’m done. You gonna catch up?”
But still, she couldn’t move. It was like she was slammed back in time, to the moment she had seen him at the country club. He was the talk of the clubhouse, Bruce Hudson’s bastard kid from another woman. He was rowdy and every bit the savage that some whore from a diner would raise. Everyone hated him the moment they heard of him. Everyone except Gen. She was intrigued by the “monster” who had popped up and threatened the Hudsons’ marriage. But when she saw him walking into the club in his thin, crisp white tee, frayed, worn jeans, and cowboy boots, she realized he wasn’t a monster. He was a gorgeous bad boy she knew her dad would hate. And since teenage Gen was looking for anything to piss her parents off, she was attracted to him within seconds, and she got exactly what she wanted.
Great sex, a good time, and pissed-off parents.
Looking up into his face, she still saw traces of that bad boy, and her insides warmed as she gazed at him. He laughed, shaking his head. “You’re looking at me like you’re seeing a ghost.”
She swallowed hard. “I feel like I am.”
He smiled. “Nope, I’m real. Wanna pinch me?”
Bracing her hand on the bar, she shook her head before throwing back one of the shots, then another, before finishing the last one. Letting out a quick hiss, she took a long pull of her beer before giving him a sideways glance to make sure he was still there.
He was.
Looking even more scrumptious than she remembered him.
Oh, this was bad.
“Wow.”
He smiled, showing the little chip on his tooth he had gotten on their road trip because of her. She had gone to open the door right as he reached for it, intending to open it for her, but she smacked him in the mouth with the door before he could. She had felt awful, but he just laughed it off. Holy crap, she was standing with Theo Hudson, in a bar.
Just like Montgomery accused her of.
Her heart ached as she turned, leaning into the bar. “I shouldn’t be here.”
“I’d say you’re in the perfect spot,” he muttered, and when she chanced a glance, he was looking her up and down. “Mercy, Genny, have you gotten hotter?”
He said it.
Mercy.
Fuck, she was done for.
Swallowing hard, hoping to push her damn heart out of her throat, she glanced over at him. “I’m engaged.”
He didn’t seem surprised as he said, “I can’t tell you you’re hot because of that?”
“No.”
“Well, I don’t know where you heard those rules, but I’m gonna say it if I want. Because when someone is as gorgeous as you are, it’s my duty to make sure they know that.”
Her eyes fell shut as she gripped the bar, all those feelings, those crazy, unruly ones from back then, slamming back into her gut. Damn it. “I gotta go.”
But when she turned, trying to get the hell out of there, her foot got stuck in the rung of the stool, and the next thing she knew, she was flying through the air headed straight for the dirty-ass floor. Lights went off in her head, and she cried out right as she felt something hot rushing from her nose.
“Whoa, Genny, you okay?” She felt his hands on her, and then she was upright, her hand going over her nose as the blood rushed out of it. “Shit, Clive, a towel.”
She closed her eyes, trying to keep her sanity because even though her nose was bleeding and everyone gushed over her, helping her, all she could think or feel was him. All of him.
Theo.
Squeezing her eyes shut as the world spun, she felt his hand run along her neck, holding her in place as he placed the rag on her rose. “Damn, you fell hard.”
“Shit, is she gonna have a black eye?” she heard Delaney ask, but Gen couldn’t answer. She could feel the whiskey tickling the back of her throat, and it was taking everything in her to keep it down.
“Sure looks like it. She hit that floor hard,” someone added, and Gen winced. That was all she needed.
“I can’t have a black eye when I get married.”
“Well, angel, I don’t think you have a choice,” Theo told her, moving his thumb along her nose. She cringed from the pain, opening her eyes, her gaze meeting his dark one. Her breath caught as his lips quirked at the side. “No matter, though. I’m sure you’ll still be as gorgeous as ever. It’s kinda crazy, but I swear you haven’t changed a bit.”
She swallowed hard, pushing the whiskey back. “I’m fatter.”
“Nah, not even a bit.”
Her eyes filled with tears as he moved his thumb across the bridge of her nose, a grin sitting on his lips. “It isn’t broken, which is good.” Heat filled her gut, her heart stopping in her chest as his eyes bored into hers. “Man, Genny, it’s really good to see you.”
“You too,” she muttered as he pulled the rag away, checking to see if her nose was still bleeding. It must have been because he put the rag back, giving her a smile.
“Why you running off, then?”
She looked down at his hand. It was large, holding the whole rag with ease, and thick. She also noticed he didn’t have a ring on. He wasn’t married. Which didn’t mean a thing, and she hated the little swirl of hope that started up in her stomach. “I shouldn’t be with you.”
“Why’s that?” he laughed. “Your parents still hate me?”
She sputtered with laughter, and his own laughter grew. “I think they’ll always hate you.”
“Probably,” he decided, pulling the rag away again. When he saw there was no more blood flow, he threw it on the bar. “But I don’t care.”
When he glanced back at her, her stomach twisted as she got lost in his eyes. “I shouldn’t be here.”
“Here? Or with me?”
“Both,” she answered, completely lost in his eyes. “He’s already pissed at me.”
“The dude from outside? On the phone? Is that the fiancé?”
Her stomach dropped. “Yeah.”
“Well, he’s a douche. You’re more than welcome to hang out with old friends, have fun. You’re on vacation, for God’s sake.”
Her lips pressed together as her heart beat so hard, it was hurting her ears. “According to him, I should only be working.”
“Working, huh? Is that what brought you back? You haven’t been here in a while.”
“Yeah,” she said slowly, pulling her gaze away. She knew she should go. Run, hightail it, but she couldn’t move. She…sh
e…she didn’t want to. “It’s been a while, and I’ve missed it. But yeah, I’m here finishing a book.”
“I’ve seen how successful you’ve gotten,” he said, a little smile pulling at his lips. “I’m really proud of you, Genny. You said you were gonna do something big one day.”
Her face broke into a grin. “I did, huh?”
“Yeah, I remember it like it was yesterday.”
She nodded. “Me too.” She looked up, and he was watching her. Her body lit on fire as she started to ramble. “What are you doing now? Still running drugs?”
He laughed, shaking his head, smacking the bar in the process. “Nah. That was a one and done kind of deal. Spending two years in jail as a kid will scare you right out of that.”
Her jaw dropped. “You actually spent time in jail?”
He laughed. “Yeah. I thought you knew that.”
“I mean, I guess I did, but I didn’t realize it was that long.”
He nodded. “Yeah, apparently it’s illegal to run drugs. But good thing for me is I had a daddy who didn’t want anyone knowing about it. So they gave me a slap on the wrist.”
“Two years is a slap on the wrist?” she gasped.
“It should have been ten.”
“Good Lord!”
He turned slightly, his knee brushing hers. She knew she should move, she even told herself to move. But instead, she sat right there. The contact sent heat all throughout her body. When she met his gaze, she could see he felt it too. With a sinister smile and a deep voice that rattled her soul, he said, “Yeah, I was a bad, bad boy.”
She was breathless, but somehow got out, “Was?” Shit. Shit. Shit! “Ignore that, that was the alcohol.”
He grinned, all his teeth showing like she was the little tweety bird and he was the cat. “Mmm-hmm.”
“It was!”
“Sure,” he said, but even she knew that wasn’t all the alcohol. How could it be? He looked…bad. Like someone she wrote about. The kind of hero who would pick her up by her waist, slam her down on a table, and fuck her from behind while pressing his thumb so hard against her asshole, she’d be screaming his names for hours.
Great. Now she was turned on.
Or maybe it really was the whiskey because she was feeling it for sure. Her fingers were numb, her mind a little fuzzy—yeah, she needed to get out of there. “I really need to go.”