7. Lacey

CHAPTER SEVEN

lacey

A fter a month in Montana, the camper is really starting to feel like home. I pass the time with little projects. Everything is painted now. A pale, muted yellow claims the walls inside the camper, with bright accent colors on the cabinets and furniture. My color choices and the blend of textiles I've scattered around might be wild, but it's my own little gypsy wagon. My camper is my place of peace and retreat, not that I have anything here I feel the need to escape from.

The exterior of the camper is now a bright and cheerful teal. With assistance from George—okay, a lot of assistance—I now have a wood deck along the front of the camper. A bench and a few pieces of cut logs are positioned around the firepit for seating, but my favorite place is the hammock hanging between two large trees down by the creek.

"Have you heard anything from he-who-shall-not-be-named since you left?" Jalynn randomly asks me, bringing me out of my thoughts.

I glance across the picnic table on Jalynn's expansive back porch where we sit and sip on lemonade while George cooks steaks for us on the grill.

"No. But then again, he probably doesn't know how to find me or contact me. I hope." I skim my finger down the side of my glass, leaving a trail through the condensation. I don't mention the texts I've received from Billy. He's continued to update me weekly on any gossip around town concerning me or Ben. Billy said Ben has been asking around, but Billy was pretty sure he didn't know anything else. I hope he's right.

"You did the right thing. I hate what he did being the reason you moved out here and got away, but I'm glad you did it before you tied the knot."

"Yeah..." I trail off. Being back with Jalynn and George has been like a breath of fresh air, but it gets hard, too. Being here, I've been reminded that George is one of the good ones. I love watching him dote over Jalynn, and even still, a sweet, gentle love radiates from both of them. If only I could have that, too, it might be worth giving love another shot. My mind returns to thoughts of the past.

"It's such a hot day. This water feels amazing!" I said, wading into the river in my underwear. Ben wrapped his arms around my middle and pulled me down on top of him below the water. Sputtering, I resurfaced. "Benjamin! I told you not to do that. Grammy's gonna see my makeup all smeared and my hair all wet and know we were back out here. You know how mad she got when Mrs. Moore told her she'd seen us swimming half-naked out here, and I got a long lecture from her about pretty is as pretty does."

"Oh, screw that old hag," Ben said.

"Benjamin!" I pushed him away angrily.

"Mrs. Moore. She's the old hag, not Grammy," Ben insisted. He, like all of my friends, called my grandmother Grammy, too. She was the type of grandmother who took all the kids under her wing, related or not.

"You'd better not be talking like that about Grammy," I warned him. "I won't stand for it."

I folded my arms across my chest. Ben made his way back over to me, waist-deep in the water, and wrapped his arms around me. He kissed me, pressing hard against my mouth. I slid my arms up around his neck and pulled him down closer. The strong current of the river caused us to sway a bit, and I broke off the kiss.

"Come here," Ben said, still holding my hand and leading me out of the river.

We returned to our blanket, spread out on the riverbank on the tall, soft grass. Ben tossed our discarded clothes aside, pulling me down onto the blanket with him. He kissed me again, letting his hands wander over my slick skin.

"Ben . . ." I whispered, stopping him.

"Come on, Lacey, I've waited two months. I don't know if I can wait any longer. Don't you love me?" Ben chided.

"You know I do. I'm just not ready."

"Do I?" Ben rolled over onto his back, his hands behind his head.

"Don't do this, Ben. Please."

"I just don't understand how you aren't ready if you do love me. The more I feel for you, the more I want to show you. Don't you want to show me how you feel about me?"

"I want to, Ben, I swear I do. But Grammy ? —"

"Don't play the Grammy-made-me-promise card again," Ben interrupted. "This isn't about Grammy. This is about me and you and the way we feel about each other. I love you, Lacey. I want to show you how I feel about you. You're the only girl for me, but I just don't know if I can go on like this any longer."

"What are you saying? You aren't breaking up with me, are you?" I sat up, looking down at Ben, afraid to hear his answer.

"I need to be in a relationship with a woman who knows how she feels about me and isn't afraid to show it. I don't want to break up with you, but you're going to force my hand if I have to wait any longer."

"Don't say that, Ben. I know how I feel about you. I love you."

"Then show me."

Steady patting on my arm pulls me back, and I give Jalynn my full attention. I catch a worried glance between her and George.

"Are you good?" Jalynn asks. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

"Yeah, sorry. Just got swept away there for a minute," I say and take a drink to wash away the bile climbing my throat at the thought of my first time. He may not have forced himself on me, but I was young and na?ve. He told me what love was, and I accepted his definition. Instead of looking back at the occasion with fondness or humor like most people, my memory of it is filled with regret and pain. I wish it had been different.

"I've got to grab our plates. The steaks are almost ready," George says. He kisses the top of Jalynn's head before going inside.

"Y'all are so cute with each other," I say. "I wish I could have that one day."

"Of course you can!" Jalynn insists, her brow furrowing at the suggestion that I can't.

"I don't know. I don't think it happens for people like me."

"People like you? What's that supposed to mean? Just because Ben was an asshole doesn't mean you don't deserve more. You do know that, right?"

"I don't know," I whisper, letting Ben fill my thoughts again.

"You know what you need?" Jalynn asks. "You need to go on a date. With a decent guy. You need to see for yourself that Ben is the exception, not the rule."

I let the idea settle for a moment as I consider what she said. Do I deserve more? I don't know. What I do know is that I want more. I want to experience what it's like to be cherished and loved unconditionally. One day, I hoped to have a family. A happy family. To be the mom that kisses away scrapes, bakes cookies, and never runs out of hugs. But that's not me, is it? Ben definitely isn't the dad that comes home cheerful from work, greets the family with hugs and kisses, and passes a football in the yard with the kids. It just wasn't us.

"Something casual maybe," I agree, after a moment of contemplation, daring to hope that I could have more than Ben offered me. "I was with Ben for so long, he's all I really know. I'm not sure I'd know how to go on a date with anyone else."

"It'd be fun for you," Jalynn says. "You hardly know what it's like to date. You spent nearly half of your life committed to that jerk, and what time you weren't, you were focusing on school for a change."

"You're right. I'd have to meet someone first, though. I'm not doing any of that internet dating stuff," I say, shaking my head.

"Oh, we can help you meet people," Jalynn excitedly offers, clapping her hands, and I know her excitement stems from finally finding something she can do to help me.

"Maddie, there's a phone call for you. It sounds urgent," I tell Mrs. Jones, poking my head into the back of the store where she is busy making arrangements. She insisted I start calling her by her first name. "I can finish this one up for you if you'd like."

"Thank you, dear."

Maddie heads to the phone at the front checkout, and I take her place at the workbench to finish the arrangement.

"I've got to run, dear," Maddie says, reappearing just moments later. "My mother had a fall, and I've got to go help her."

"Oh no! Is she okay?"

"She's fine. It wasn't a bad fall. I'm not worried, but the home likes for a family member to be present while the doctor looks her over. She does this every once in a while."

"What about the shipment to the city? Want me to take it after closing up?" I ask.

"No, that won't be necessary. I'll send someone over to take it. You just do your usual thing, and I'll see you in the morning."

After fishing her keys out from her purse, Maddie hooks the strap over her shoulder and heads for the door.

"Okay. If you need anything, let me know," I call after her.

A couple of hours pass, and the jingle over the front door alerts me that someone's here. I head back to the front of the store to tend to the customer. Though I've never met the man, I recognize him instantly. It's the man who nearly ran me over in his pickup truck on my first day in town.

He looks like he's just stepped off a ranch with his messy clothes and muddy boots. He still wears a couple of days' worth of stubble on his face. His frame is slender but strong, the muscles in his arms defined. My eyes follow his strong, sinewy muscles up his arms, but my imagination takes over at his sleeves, imagining how the muscles must stretch across his body under his shirt.

Stop drooling, I scold myself. Get a grip! This man nearly turned you into roadkill.

What can I say? I'm a sucker for the rough country boy-type. And trouble. That makes him a double whammy. Definitely something I don't need. It still doesn't mean I need to gawk at him, though.

"What can I do for you?" I choke out in what I hope sounds like a pleasant voice, and I give him a friendly smile.

"I'm here to take the truck over to the city for Maddie," he says gruffly.

If he recognizes me, he doesn't show it. And he doesn't seem to be in any better of a mood than he was when he blared his truck horn in my face. Maybe he takes a minute to warm up to new people, and then he turns into a big teddy bear. It's more likely, though, that he's an entitled prick.

Just my type.

I roll my eyes at myself. Despite everything, I can't deny I'm attracted to the man.

"Oh, okay. I'll help you load the truck."

I turn from the counter to lead him into the back room where the shipment waits to be loaded while contemplating the situation in front of me. If I'm going to do this, going to try for something better than I had with Ben, I'm going to have to step way outside of my comfort zone. This man may not be on a roster of candidates I should consider, but there wouldn't be any harm in trying to flirt with this tower of handsome masculinity, right? Heaven knows, I need the practice. I slide my sweaty palms into my pockets, conflicted. My body wants to be close to him, but my mind is screaming at me to run away.

"I don't need your help. I know my way around," he says sharply and brushes past me.

I bristle, and yet, tingles explode through my body from his touch.

"Excuse me"—I chase after him, close on his heels as he enters the cooler—"but you can't come strutting in here, putting on airs like you own the place. Where do you get off? I haven't done anything but offer to help. Anyway, how do I know that Maddie sent you?"

I was right. He's an entitled prick.

The man turns abruptly on his heels with an arrangement in his hands. Not expecting his quick change in direction, my momentum keeps me going straight for him, and we collide, knocking the arrangement out of his hands. It crashes to the floor, pieces of the glass vase shooting off in every direction. We both freeze, eyeing the broken mess on the floor between us.

"Yeah. Some help you are. If you'd be so kind as to step aside, I'd like to get this done."

The man grabs two more arrangements and sidesteps me to get out the door. I crouch down and begin picking up the larger pieces of the mess we made, then take a broom to the floor. By the time he has the truck loaded, I have the mess cleaned up and a new arrangement prepared to replace the broken one.

"You have yourself a nice day, now," I say in an overly sweet voice with a stiff smile as I shove the new arrangement into his hands.

He barely even looks at me when he takes the arrangement and heads back to the door. My blood boils.

"Asshole," I mutter to myself, louder than I intend.

He stops in his tracks. Realizing my mistake, I suck in a breath and will myself invisible. With no more than a slight cock of his head, the man continues out the door and leaves.