Fighting For Our Forever: The Beaumont Series: Next Generation

by Heidi McLaughlin

  “I stare at Quinn like you do at Ajay,” Nola says, breaking my concentration.

  “I was looking at the ocean.”

  “Yeah, okay,” she says, calling my bluff. “I get it, believe me. Try being around Quinn’s dad, Liam, JD, Ben, and Noah. There isn’t a lack of eye candy in that group, that’s for sure. And don’t get me started on the wives and Quinn’s sisters. Everyone in their circle is gorgeous and perfect.”

  Lovely.

  “Who’s Ben?” I ask, changing the subject.

  “Elle’s fiancé. He does all the band’s promo and advertising.”

  For some reason it’s a huge relief to know Elle has someone. “I thought she was Ajay’s girlfriend.”

  Nola shuts the back of the Wrangler and adjusts the bag in her hand. “They’re like siblings. Quinn’s parents have sort of adopted Ajay.”

  I remember him telling me about his first real Christmas with them and while I was happy he had that, knowing it had never happened before broke my heart. Thinking about his parents infuriates me.

  “You’ll probably be overwhelmed when you meet everyone, but it’s one huge family.”

  “Who says I’m meeting everyone?”

  Nola chuckles. “I said the same thing when I started dating Quinn.” We walk a little way until she stops. “Why does Ajay call you Whiskey?”

  “My name is actually Jameson. Everyone but Ajay calls me Jamie.”

  “It’s a cool nickname.”

  “It’s not a nickname though. It’s just his name for me and I’d probably punch anyone else if they ever tried to use it. It’s only his.”

  “That’s really sweet. I’m really Eleanora, but when I moved to Los Angeles, I called myself Nola. It stuck, unless you’re with my parents and then everything is prim and proper,” she rambles on until we get back to the guys. Ajay meets us half way and takes the bag from my hands. I wish I could say the band changed him for the worse, but ever since I’ve known him, he’s never let me carry anything if his hands were empty.

  Our little space on the beach turns out to be pretty cool. We have enough shade to keep us from burning, a cooler stocked with water, soda, and beer. There’s music playing and when a Sinful Distraction song comes on, I find myself singing right along with Nola.

  “Whiskey, you surprise me,” Ajay says from behind me. As if on cue, my body betrays me and all I want is for him to touch me even though I know it’s wrong.

  “Why’s that?” I ask through the lump in my throat.

  “Because from the way you acted last week, I would’ve thought you never heard of my band or didn’t know it was my group.”

  I adjust slightly so I can look at him. He’s so fucking hot with his tanned skin and small pebbles of sweat on his chest. “I blame Dhara, she tells me everything. At first, I resisted…”

  “And now, Whiskey? Are you going to resist?”

  For the love of all things holy, please tell me he’s talking about music.

  “Ballard, I rented us some surf boards, let’s go.” Our moment is interrupted by Quinn. I want to scream at him for his imperfect timing and thank him all the same because I need a drink... preferably something cold. Of course, watching him walk away with a board under his arm isn’t exactly helping my situation.

  21

  Ajay

  I should be pissed that Quinn took me away from Whiskey, however I’m thankful for the reprieve. As much as I hate to admit it, I need a break from her because I’m the guy that wants to forget the last seven years and pretend like I never left. I want to show Whiskey the man I’ve become instead of having her remember the boy I was.

  Quinn and I paddle out and wait… and wait… for the waves to grow, but they never seem to take shape or start to swell. The water isn’t choppy and doesn’t seem ideal for surfing.

  “I think we’re wasting our time,” I tell him, looking around for the other guys I saw earlier. Most are doing exactly the same thing as Quinn and I, just sitting on our boards.

  “It’s like the ocean is speaking to us,” he says.

  I scoff and look over at him. “Are you spouting some weird hippy shit?”

  He laughs. “No, honestly that just slipped out. This shit’s an omen, man. I’m going back in.” Quinn lays forward on his board and maneuvers until he’s facing the beach. I follow and start paddling, only looking back a few times to see if the waves have changed. Quinn’s right, it’s an omen. Of what, I’m not so sure. Maybe this is the calm before the storm, and I make a mental note to check my phone to see if a hurricane is brewing out near Bermuda or something.

  Back on shore, we walk around blankets and other set-ups with our heads down, anything we can do to keep from being recognized. Honestly, I’m surprised we don’t have permanent spine and muscle damage from keeping our heads down all the time. There are times when I don’t care if someone doesn’t notice me, and there are times when I want them to and they don’t. That’s a real shot to my ego, but in the end, it always seems to work out for the best. Go out with Harrison, Liam or JD, on the other hand, and we’re sure to have fans coming up to us. JD, specifically, loves the attention and will tweet his location to people and act surprised when they show up. On days like today, I don’t want to be recognized and even if I am, I’d like to be left alone.

  Whiskey and Nola are lounging in the sun when we reach them. I’m jealous that Quinn can lean down and kiss his girl when all I can do is smile at mine. Believe me, I’m grateful that she’s here, but damn it if I don’t want more. I know how lucky I am right now and shouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth, but I can’t help it. The way Whiskey is sitting there, staring at me, has my hormones working in overdrive and I have a feeling that she knows it.

  “Hey,” I say to her as I set my board in the sand.

  “I have to say, Ballard, I’m a little upset that I didn’t get to see you surf.”

  “Excuse me?” I’m slightly caught off guard by her tone together with the fact that Nola is snickering.

  “Yeah, I mean after the way Nola described Quinn while he’s in the water, I could only picture you being the same and was excited to see it.”

  “How exactly did Eleanora describe me?” Quinn asks. The only time he uses her real name is when he’s being serious.

  “Oh, you know,” Nola says with a coy shrug.

  “No, actually I don’t,” he says to her.

  “I’d like to know as well,” I say. “Maybe it’s something I can do that might win me some brownie points with my girl.”

  Nola and Whiskey start laughing. Both of them double over in laughter while Quinn and I stand there, watching them act like silly fools.

  “I guess we’re missing the joke,” I tell him.

  He nods. “I guess. I’m thinking you and I should head south and leave these two here.”

  “We could. We have the Wrangler. That would save us some time,” I add.

  Nola stops laughing and looks dead straight at Quinn. She slowly stands and puts her hands on her hips. “You wouldn’t leave me.”

  He shrugs.

  “Ajay would leave me,” Whiskey says. Her words hurt my feelings even though they’re true because that’s the guy she remembers. I was young and stupid.

  I choose not to play her game or continue the banter that’s going on around us. I walk past her and over to the cooler where I pull out a bottle of water and the necessary stuff to make a sandwich. I figure if my mouth is full, I can’t say anything stupid. I feel her beside me before she even says a word, and when she touches my arm, I do everything I can to not pull away from her.

  “I’m sorry,” she says. “That was really insensitive.”

  “But true,” I remind her. “What you said was true. I left you, but I’m back now, Whiskey.”

  She sighs and tries to smile, but her lips barely move. “I don’t know if you being back is a good or bad thing.”

  “I suppose for you, it’s a bad thing. I’m interrupting your life. If I had my way, we would fo
rget the missing years and start over. I know it’s not that easy though. Even though Harvey has essentially given us a second chance at making things right, you have a boyfriend which is sort of a roadblock.”

  “Logan… our relationship is different. We’re a weekend thing, maybe a couple times a month, and we mostly just hang out. Yesterday, he came down and took me to the fair.”

  “Does he know about me?”

  “He does now. I hadn’t told him before because I never thought I could bring myself to talk about the hurt I went through. He knew someone had hurt me but not the story behind it.”

  “I will never stop telling you how sorry I am for what I did, Whiskey. I do hope that someday you understand why though.”

  She looks away and I go through the motions of making myself something to eat even though I’m not hungry and my appetite is gone. I hate knowing she has a boyfriend — or a “friend” — and I have to keep reminding myself that I shouldn’t care even though I really do.

  “Do you think we could go for a walk?” she asks. “There’s something I want to show you.”

  “Yes,” I blurt out, probably too eagerly. I scramble to put everything away and offer her a bottle of water, which she declines. I guzzle mine and put the empty bottle in the box that Nola designated for recycling.

  “We’re going for a walk,” I say to Quinn and Nola, who are looking at a magazine together.

  “Don’t get sand in your… ouch,” Quinn mutters. “Geez, Nola.”

  “You’re not Liam or JD, don’t be crass.”

  I chuckle and fall in step next to Whiskey. We walk for a bit and let the waves hit our bare feet. Neither of us are talking and while normally the silence would be deafening, it’s nice to just be in her presence and surrounded by not only her beauty, but the scenery as well.

  We come to a bend and have to climb over a few rocks. Doing this barefoot is not ideal, but she seems to have it mastered so I say nothing about turning back or finding a different route.

  When we get over the formation there’s a small cove waiting for us. We have to wade through knee deep water, but it’s worth it.

  “Wow!” I follow Whiskey to the small beach and sit down next to her.

  “We can only be here as long as it’s low tide.”

  “How have I never been here before?”

  “A couple of years ago we had a massive hurricane. A lot of people lost their homes, even in Bailey. Somehow from all of that, this happened. Mother Nature created it.”

  I figure I can sit here and talk about the cove and how serene it is, or I can ask about her, and since she’s always been my favorite subject the choice is easy. “Tell me about your life, Whiskey. I’ve filled you in on everything about mine.”

  She pulls her legs closer to her chest and wraps her arms around her knees. “After you left, things were hard for me. Even though I was only eighteen, I had lost everything. You were my everything. For as long as I could remember, you and I were always together, and then we weren’t. It took a lot of drinking and a few drug induced nights to get you out of my mind.”

  My heart twists painfully when she says drugs. I can’t imagine her doing something to harm herself.

  “I went to therapy for a while. The whole, ‘it’s not me, it’s you’ thing worked until…” she trails off and seems to get lost in her own thoughts.

  “I had to get a job and Bailey’s was hiring. I took every shift I could, doubling up most days for about seven months, and then the owner asked me to bartend. He said I was good at keeping peace among the regulars. For a while the tips were really good but then the storm hit. After the hurricane, they wanted to sell and asked me to buy it but I couldn’t with my credit… and it wasn’t like I had the money to put down on it. I begged them not to sell but they wanted to move to Florida. As a last ditch effort, I suggested they make me manager. I’d run Bailey’s in exchange for them paying the rent. It’s been a few years now.”

  “Where do you live?” I ask her.

  “I have a house not far from work. It’s a rental, but it’s mine. Own my car though.”

  “That’s a step above me. I lease a car and rent a room from Quinn and Nola.”

  “On the beach, I heard.”

  “Do you want to come to California?” I ask, looking over at her. “I’d really like to show you the area.”

  She glances at me briefly and then turns away. “I don’t know if that’s such a good idea.”

  I adjust the way I’m sitting by pulling her legs over mine, leaving her no choice but to look at me. I trail my fingers over her cheek. “I know Harvey says I’m the one who has to come here because of your job. It makes sense, but I’d really like for you to see my life, to see how you could fit into it.”

  “Why?”

  I swallow the lump resting in my throat. All my cards are about to be laid out.

  “Because I don’t want a divorce, at least I’m not pushing for one. You’re the love of my life, Whiskey, and I think we have an opportunity to start over.”

  “We were young and stupid.”

  “And now we’re older and probably not a whole hell of a lot smarter.” We both laugh. I reach for her hand and weave our fingers together. “Life would be different with me, I know that. I live in California and while I could commute, I’d want you there with me. It’s where the studio is, where I rehearse with the band. I know it’s a lot to ask, for you to give up your life, but I promise that if you do, you won’t be sorry.”

  “Ajay, what makes you think I still want to be married to you?”

  “Because you’re here. If you didn’t want to spend time with me, you would’ve told me to come to Bailey’s while you’re working or told me to ignore what Harvey says, but you didn’t. You didn’t even hesitate.” I let my words sink in and wait for her to tell me I’m wrong. She opens her mouth a few times, but words never seem to come out.

  “I love you, Whiskey. I always have.”

  “I know and I think I love you too, but life is complicated.”

  “So uncomplicate it.”

  “It’s not that easy, Ajay.”

  “Logan, right?”

  I expect her to agree, but she shakes her head. “Yesterday when I told him about you, he offered to play mediator.” Whiskey shrugs. “He wasn’t mad that I’m married, didn’t ask me not to see you, nothing. I think this is the out we’ve both been looking for but didn’t realize it until now.”

  I don’t care what sign he was waiting for but I certainly know one when I see it. My hands cup her face and pull her toward me until our lips come together. Her mouth parts and her tongue seeks mine. From the moment we touch, I’m consumed with nothing but desire and yearning, the need to show her how I’ve changed and what life can be like together. We fall back into the sand, my arm cradling her head. Her body presses to mine as her hands roam over my torso. I find myself needing to be with her, to mark her, claim her as mine and only mine, but not here. Not now.

  As if she’s reading my mind, she pulls away and sits up, panting for air. “That shouldn’t have happened.”

  “I disagree.”

  “Logan… he’s still my boyfriend.”

  With my hand around the back of her neck, I guide her to meet my gaze. “Break up with him and let me be your husband, Whiskey.”

  22

  Jamie

  I’ve always been the girl who falls in love first, asks questions last, never thinks about the consequences and ends up ass over tea kettle because I’m not cautious. As much as I want to roll around in the sand with Ajay, to add sex in the sandy cove to the list of “Stupid Shit Jamie Does”, I can’t. I’d love to be foolish right now, to blame my emotions on making rash decisions but I owe it to myself, to Logan, and to Evelyn to proceed with caution and to not be that girl. But being that girl, the one who doesn’t care, can be nice. I hate being a responsible adult right now, and I blame Ajay. It’s his fault. He brings this reckless behavior out in me. If it weren’t for him, I’d be sitt
ing behind my desk, processing inventory, or standing behind the bar, pouring drinks, and listening to people’s problems.

  Except, I’m here with my legs between Ajay’s, my fingers digging into a muscle on his back and looking into his eyes. He asked me to give him a chance at being my husband. Do I owe him that? I’m not sure that I do. Do I want to be married to him? Again, I don’t know, but I’m not positive giving up on a chance to be with him again is something I want either. Life with and without him is complicated. He’s never been far from my mind especially with his band doing so well — plus Dhara, despite being my best friend, made sure I knew everything even though I had no desire to know.

  “Whiskey?” he says my name and it echoes all around. “Whiskey, look at me.”

  My eyes shoot up to his and I’m lost in the deep sea of blue. I’m waiting for him to say something profound, like to tell me he loves me again or wants to make love to me… maybe tell me that if he’s not buried inside me immediately, he’s going to die or something like I’ve read before in a book or two, but he doesn’t say anything. He leans forward and kisses me softly. After years apart I’ve never forgotten the way his soft lips feel against mine. That must mean something right?

  “I think we should get back,” I tell him before any of my fantasies start to come true and I’m left with no option except to tell him no. I don’t want to have sex with him on the beach… the Wrangler, maybe… but not here. Not now. Not tomorrow either. I have to get my life in order. But I can’t lie and say I don’t want to have sex with him, and yet I know I shouldn’t.

  On the way back to our spot on the beach, he holds my hand and our arms sway as if this is the most common thing between us, as if we’ve been doing this for years not minutes.