8. Lacey

CHAPTER EIGHT

lacey

T rue to her word, Jalynn finds me a date. A blind date. I hate blind dates. Knowing that, and knowing I still have no life outside of work, Jalynn sets the date up before telling me about it.

"This first one is undoubtedly going to be hard," Jalynn says over the phone as she breaks the news about my impending date. I groan. "But that's why I think this is gonna be a perfect date for you to dip your toes back in the dating pool, so to speak."

"Why?" I ask with a sigh, remembering I did ask her for this. It's not her fault I was feeling more...brave?—or desperate, more likely—when I originally agreed to this.

"He's really sweet, Lace. Maybe too sweet, if that's even possible. And he's going to take you to an orchestra performance, so you won't have to make much conversation. Like I said, easy first date."

I browse through my wardrobe, trying to decide on an outfit. What do people wear to orchestra performances, anyway?

Eventually, I settle on a knee-length black dress with a scalloped hem and white embroidery. I slide into black high heels and check in the mirror to make sure I haven't missed anything.

My date taps on the door, and I step out onto the deck and lock up. I turn back to him just in time to catch him taking a step back and checking me out from head to toe and back up again.

"Wow, you are beautiful!" he says, shaking his head in admiration.

He may be cute, but this is awkward. Hopefully, he's just nervous.

"Thanks." I offer him a fake smile. "I'm Lacey. You must be Kevin."

I stretch a mildly trembling hand out toward him.

"Wow, just beautiful."

What has Jalynn gotten me into?

He takes my hand in his, and rather than a quick handshake like I expected, he lifts it and plants a wet kiss on the back of my hand. I swiftly reclaim my hand and realize I probably should've insisted on meeting him in town, rather than letting him pick me up. I realize how unqualified I am to make decisions like this after growing up in a town of less than two thousand people. Stranger danger isn't really a thing back home. Then again, Jalynn knows him, and she wouldn't send a serial killer to my doorstep.

The drive to Bozeman is quiet, and aside from Kevin's inability to keep his eyes on the road rather than on me, it's uneventful. I sit awkwardly in the passenger seat, pretending not to notice as he steals glances at me. His attention is making me so uncomfortable I stare out my window, watching the fence posts roll by until I can't handle it anymore.

"So how do you know Jalynn and George?" I ask, trying to ease some of the discomfort.

He doesn't respond.

"Kevin . . ." I say more loudly.

"Oh, what? Sorry. The porch light was on, but no one was home. What were you saying?"

What have I got myself into?

We finally make it to the venue for the orchestra, and I follow Kevin inside to our seats. The lights dim, signaling that the orchestra is about to begin, which may be the best part about the whole evening. The dark auditorium keeps the ogling to a minimum. Regardless, I subtly cling to the opposite side of my chair and slide my hands under my thighs to reduce the threat of him trying to hold my hand. I'm barely into this date and could already use a break.

My stomach rolls as the lighting in the room slowly returns to its full brightness, signifying that the event is officially over. I'm not ready for more strained conversation with this man. We rise from our seats and begin the walk out to his truck.

"The orchestra was great," I say, trying to politely cut our date short. "But I'm pretty tired. Would you mind taking me home?"

"But I haven't taken you to dinner yet. I was really looking forward to taking you to a nice restaurant," he replies.

"Oh." Suddenly, I don't know what to do. Will he be angry if I say no? "Okay."

It's just dinner. I can make it through a dinner.

He assures me on our drive to the restaurant that I should order whatever I want from the menu and insists that I choose something substantial, like a steak. I suffer through his rant about women who don't eat enough, and I can't help but think maybe he's the appetite suppressant his other dates seem to be afflicted with.

The hostess seats us in a booth, and I read over the menu, debating which choice will get me out of here the quickest without another lecture.

"I need to go to the little boy's room," Kevin says, standing. "Don't go anywhere while I'm gone."

He's only a few steps away when he stops in his tracks and backpedals to our table again.

"Seriously, though," he says, "please don't leave. Promise?"

"Uh . . . I promise."

Is this guy for real right now? This evening cannot end fast enough.

I make sure to have my order ready when he gets back, not wanting to delay the ending of our evening any longer than necessary. Kevin returns and we put our orders in with the waitress and make awkward conversation until our food comes. His eyes constantly bore into me, leaving me feeling uncomfortable and trapped. I focus on eating my food and wish I could click my heels together like Dorothy and wake up back home.

I thought the best part of the date was the lights dimming at the orchestra. That was a premature assumption. The best part of the evening was shutting the door in Kevin's face when I finally got back home. I unzip my dress and laugh to myself about the way he tried his best to delay me stepping inside the camper, undoubtedly hoping for a goodnight kiss. Much to his dismay, however, it was wasted effort, because Chinese water torture couldn't have convinced me to kiss that man goodnight. I couldn't be happier to have that one over with.

Pulling out my cell phone, I dial Jalynn. I put the phone on speaker and toss it on my bed.

"You're dead to me!" I say, laughing, when she answers. I pull on a T-shirt and pick up the phone, carrying it into the bathroom with me so I can brush my teeth.

"Why?" she asks.

"Do you even know this Kevin guy? Please tell me he's not the best you think I can do."

"Was it bad?" Jalynn asks with surprise in her voice.

"Was it bad?" I repeat. "Oh, let me tell you..."

Spitting the toothpaste into the sink first, I replay the evening for Jalynn who cackles on the other end of the line. Though she hasn't offered me an explanation yet, I'm quickly able to determine she had no idea what she'd set me up for this evening.

"I'm so sorry!" Jalynn giggles through the phone, but I know her apology is sincere. "I had no idea he would be that awkward."

"Oh, Jay . . . you owe me for this one."

"Why didn't you tell him to take you back home? Or call me and ask for a rescue?"

"I tried. But he was set on going to dinner," I say, taking a seat on the edge of my bed.

"What do you mean you tried?" Jalynn asks. The humor is suddenly gone from her voice.

"I asked him to take me home after the orchestra. He was set on having dinner, though."

"Why did you agree on dinner if you didn't want to?"

"Well, I didn't want to put him out. He was really insistent on it, so I just thought it was best to go along with what he wanted."

A brief silence hangs in the air.

"Lacey, you do understand, don't you, that you don't have to say yes to everything your date suggests?"

"I just thought?—"

"No." Jalynn's voice is growing more insistent. "It's okay for you to say no. You don't have to do anything you don't want to do. And if it's awkward, or the guy gives you a hard time, you call me. You are entitled to make your own decisions. Promise me you'll remember that."

"Okay," I say, biting at the skin on my lip.

She's right. I know she's right. I just don't know that I can be that person.

"We're hosting a barbecue next week. That would be a perfect opportunity for you to get to know some more people in town," Jalynn offers.

"I'll have to check my busy schedule before I can commit," I joke. "But that sounds like fun."

If tonight's date is any indication of what the dating world has to offer me, though, I'm better off staying single. I plug in my phone after telling Jalynn goodnight and settle on my bed, waiting for sleep to find me.

The week drifts by slowly and uneventfully. I stay busy working at the flower shop every day and join Jalynn and George for dinner a couple of nights. Much to Jalynn's dismay, I decline her invitation to be the third wheel on her date with George on Friday night.

Saturday morning, the ringing of my cell phone stirs me awake. I stumble out of bed in search of it. Where did I leave it? And why is it ringing so early? I follow the sound to the bench, where I dig in the pillows until they produce my phone. It's Jalynn, of course.

"What?" I yawn and collapse on the bench.

"Did I wake you? It's nine in the morning, Lacey. Is everything okay? I've never known you to sleep this late. Did you go out last night after all? Did you meet someone?" Jalynn rattles off questions quicker than my groggy brain can follow.

"What? Nine? In the morning? How did I sleep so late?"

"That's what I just asked you. Sheesh, I've about forgotten what it feels like to sleep in. They say I'm not supposed to have trouble sleeping till later on in the pregnancy, but I swear this baby has already changed life as I knew it. But tell me, is everything good with you?"

"Ugh, I feel like I was rode hard and put up wet."

"Were you out somewhere? Did you meet someone? Were you rode hard and put up wet? Come on, don't hold out on me now."

I can almost hear her eyebrows waggling on the other end of the phone.

"No. But I wish I was," I say with a chuckle. I move back to settle on my bed. "I haven't been sleeping very well, and I think it's catching up to me. But surely that's not what you were calling me about."

"Hold up, why haven't you been sleeping well? Is it the nightmares again?"

"Yeah, but it's okay. I'm fine."

"Lace . . ."

"No really," I insist. "Moving on . . ."

There is silence on the line as Jalynn no doubt debates whether she should let me push the conversation forward or not.

"I was calling you about tonight. You're coming, right? To the barbecue?"

"I don't know if I feel up to socializing with a bunch of strangers today," I say, setting the stage to tell her I'm not coming. "That date you set me up with last weekend was painful. I'm not sure I'm cut out for this dating thing after all. Plus, I have some projects to finish up on the camper."

"No. No, you can't back out of coming. My asking was a polite formality. I will drag you over here by my teeth if I have to. You have to come! You're my best friend, and I want you here. Please come, Lace."

I let out a dramatic sigh. I've not only already promised to attend, but I encouraged her to host a barbecue in the first place. It would be pretty shitty of me not to go.

"Fine. Lord willing and the creek don't rise, I'll make an appearance. I can't promise I'll stay the whole time, though. What time?"

"Yay! I knew I could count on you. The party starts at six. Don't be late!"

I hang up the phone and grab a blanket, wrapping it around me and lazily trudging outside to the hammock. I settle myself in the hammock to continue resting.

Once I've stored up some energy and found a degree of motivation, I spend the latter part of my day cleaning the camper and gathering fallen tree limbs for my firewood pile. When five thirty rolls around, I decide I should start getting ready for the barbecue.

I look at myself in the mirror, unsure of how much effort I want to put into getting ready. I'm still on the fence about whether or not I even want to participate in this event. I know Jalynn probably has a guy or two in mind that she wants me to meet. When Jalynn is put on a task, like helping me meet people, she attacks with full force and unwavering determination. It's both a blessing and a curse.

Thoughts of the man from the flower shop a couple of days ago trickle back into my mind. Just the memory of him makes heat course through my body and my mouth go dry. I push my thoughts of him away, though. I don't need to test the waters with a jerk to know that's not what I need.

I debate what to wear, finally settling on jeans and a gold graphic T-shirt. I tuck the front of it into my belted jeans and slide my favorite selection of leather bracelets on my wrists. Grabbing a light jacket to take along with me in case it gets chilly, I study myself in the mirror for a moment, then add a set of chunky gold huggie earrings and a delicate paper clip chain that barely hangs visible over the neck of my shirt.

It's already six thirty when I pull into Jalynn's driveway. The driveway and side yard are already full of pickups and a few SUVs. One thing I've noticed since being in Montana is that most everyone here drives a four-wheel drive vehicle of some sort. My two-wheel drive pickup might give me trouble this winter. I leave the truck in a spot where I feel certain I won't get blocked in and head inside.

Voices float around from the backyard as I walk up to the house, and I know I should probably walk around back to join the party. Suddenly feeling uncharacteristically shy, though, I opt for the front door instead. Making it inside, I find Jalynn and several other girls gossiping around the kitchen island.

"Lacey, you made it! I was beginning to worry." Jalynn gives me a hug and pulls me into the kitchen with her. "Ladies, this is Lacey. She's the friend I was telling you about."

Jalynn's introduction is followed by a chorus of hellos.

"What do you think of Montana? Is it much different than North Carolina?" the brunette with the round pregnant belly asks.

"It's completely different, but it's been great," I answer, slowly warming up to the group.

"What brought you to Montana, anyway?" asks a different woman, a blonde with bright red lipstick, taking another sip of her drink.

I try to think of a graceful way to answer, knowing it's liable to lead us into a discussion I don't want to have.

"Oh, you know, I needed a change. And Jalynn here, being pregnant with her first child and not knowing what to expect..."

Much to my relief, they take the bait, and the focus turns back on Jalynn, and I get to hear a rather disturbingly graphic conversation between the five women about pregnancy and birth.

Soon, George walks in from the back porch and ushers us outside with the rest of the group. I scan the crowd, taking in my surroundings. There are several good-looking guys here. Some of them clearly already have girls, but several appear to be single. Chances are, if they were invited to this barbecue, they already have Jalynn's stamp of approval.

I go through the line to get a plate of food and return to Jalynn's side, hoping I'll blend into the crowd and avoid introductions for a while. Jalynn gives me a nudge, silently checking in while she continues listening to the story being recounted to her by another someone I haven't yet met. I respond with a wink and take a big bite of the burger on my plate.

"If you want an introduction to anybody, let me know," Jalynn offers once the storyteller walks away. "Anyone caught your eye yet?"

"Not so much," I say. "I'm so out of my depth."

"You are not. You're just nervous, and that's okay. Just start talking to people and try to have fun. Anything else will naturally fall into place."

I roll my eyes, feigning annoyance at her pep talk, and head to the porch to throw my plate away. A soothing melody floats through the yard, capturing my attention, and I slow my pursuit. My eyes wander, searching for the source, but I can't see through the group of people gathered around a picnic table. Whoever's playing the guitar is good. Without thinking, I move toward the music, feeling drawn in.

I find a lone chair out of the way of company but close enough to the melody being plucked from the guitar to soak in each note. I take a seat and close my eyes, allowing myself to melt into the music. I open my eyes as a couple among the group saunter away and I am given a clear view of the guitarist.

"Oh. It's you," I say. He looks up from his guitar, his eyes landing on mine, but he doesn't stop playing.

I stand from my seat and close in to fill the open gap. A strange beckoning fills me. The music giving me reprieve is being played by none other than the rude but devilishly handsome man from town.

"What are you doing here? And how do you know George and Jalynn?" I ask.

The music comes to an abrupt stop.

"Hi," he says. I take a step closer, feeling drawn by his warm, captivating gaze. "I was hoping we might cross paths again?—"

"Hey, baby." A tall redhead appears out of nowhere and kisses him on the cheek. She takes a seat next to him.

His gaze slowly drifts away from me. Is that disappointment on his face? He begins picking the guitar again as he gives the redhead a nod and focuses back on his hands floating over the strings. The redhead is saying something, but I no longer hear the words. A throat clears behind me, snapping me out of the trance I'm in. I spin around and bump directly into a broad, hard chest.

"I'm sorry," I say to the massive figure towering over me. I stumble back a step, and the apprehension I've been trying to chase away takes a U-turn straight back into my soul.

They grow the men here in Montana like they grow the mountains. He has a bright smile on his clean-shaven face, and his big, happy eyes take me in. I self-consciously smooth my hair from the jolt of our collision and make a mental note of my escape route away from him if it becomes needed.

"My fault," he assures me with a genuine smile. His voice is smooth and friendly. "My name's Caleb. I work with George. Are you the friend from back east?"

"I am. My name's Lacey. Are you from here?"

"Basically. I grew up in the next town over but spent most of my time here. That's how I got acquainted with George. What do you think of our little town? Was it worth the drive?" He cocks an eyebrow at me. He reminds me of a Viking with his blond hair, broad forehead, prominent chin, and expansive chest.

"I love it here. Best choice I've made in a long time."

I slide my hands into the back pockets of my jeans, suddenly feeling vulnerable and unsure of what to do with them.

"Can I suggest another brilliant choice?"

"I suppose," I say, my curiosity piqued.

"Play a game of croquet with me."

"Say what now?" That isn't where I thought he was going.

"Croquet. You ever played? They have a course set up in the back of the yard. Come play a game with me," Caleb says, repeating the suggestion, unfazed.

I glance back over the yard to see where the croquet course is set up. It's far enough back in the yard that it's not getting unintentional foot traffic but close enough not to be secluded. I look back up into Caleb's eyes, debating which prompting to listen to.

I don't know him. I'm not even sure that I want to know him. But he seems nice. He's a friend of Jalynn and George. And I still want to know if Jalynn is right. Can I have better? Something about his demeanor washes away the anxiety I haven't been able to shake tonight and suddenly puts me at ease. I can do this, right?

"I can't agree to that until I know the answer to a very important question," I say as I walk slowly backward toward the porch steps that will lead us down into the yard. Caleb follows, still wearing the smile he greeted me with. "Are you a sore loser?"

"No!" He draws out the word like the question is offensive.

"Good. Because you should know something about me..." I give him a mischievous grin.

"What's that?" he asks, slowly closing the gap between us.

"I kick ass at croquet. Get ready to have your pride wounded."

I give him a wicked grin and turn away, leaving him with a view as I lead the way to the back of the yard for our match. Yes, I think I can.

Locating the croquet set, I make a display of inspecting the mallets while waiting for Caleb, who I'm pretty sure didn't mind being left to catch up with me. Surprisingly, I find myself feeling at ease with him. Caleb steps up next to me and watches me with a smirk as I finish my inspection. I look up at him through my lashes. He's so much taller than me. At least a foot. I wonder what I look like from his bird's eye view.

"Ladies first," Caleb says, gesturing toward the croquet set for me to make my selection from the mallets.

"I'll play with yellow," I say, "to match my sunny disposition."

I exaggerate batting my eyelashes at him, earning a chuckle.

"I'll take black."

"To match your dark and tortured soul?" I ask jokingly.

It couldn't be more evident that there is nothing dark and tortured about this affable man.

"No, because I'm so manly," he offers, flexing his arms to put his bulging biceps on display.

"We'll see how that manly mallet plays out for you."

I slide past him, place my ball, and strike it with my yellow mallet, sending it through the first hoop.

"That was pretty good," Caleb says, lining up his ball.

With a pop of the mallet, his ball glides over the lawn, passing just left of the first hoop. I arch a judgmental eyebrow at him.

"Give me time. I'm still warming up," he reasons.

After a miserable loss, Caleb restocks our mallets and balls with the rest of the set. He casually wraps an arm around my shoulders as we walk back toward the house, weighing me down with uneasiness again. But it doesn't stay long. Caleb continues making lighthearted excuses for his poor playing, not noticing that I tensed up from his touch, and soon I find myself relaxed again and laughing at his exaggerated explanations.

"Being tall definitely puts me at a disadvantage," he says.

"How do you figure?" I giggle.

"Obviously, having to hunch over like I did to reach the ground put me at a different perspective than you," he jokes.

"I thought you told me you aren't a sore loser?"

My laughter is quickly subdued by a strange sensation that resonates inside me. Glancing ahead of us to the porch, I see the guy with the guitar watching me closely. Nervousness sweeps over me again. The redhead is still sitting at his side, but she's too preoccupied by her cell phone to pay him any mind.

"I think I deserve a consolation prize," Caleb suggests as we come to a halt at the edge of the crowd.

I look back at him. There's no denying Caleb's attractiveness. The conversation with him tonight has flowed, and despite his mammoth proportions, I feel absolutely at ease with him.

"If you're about to ask me for a kiss, you should know I'm not that kind of girl," I tease him, putting my focus back on Caleb, though I can still feel another set of eyes on me.

"In that case, I'll settle for your phone number."

I hold out my hand for his phone. He pulls the phone out of his pocket and sets it lightly in my hand. I punch several buttons and hand it back to him.

Glancing at his phone screen he reads, "Lacey, The Exquisitely Beautiful Queen of Croquet." He chuckles. "A truer title may have never been ordained."

As the night grows late, people steadily begin saying their goodbyes and leaving. I yawn, wanting to retreat as well, but start gathering trash left behind by the other visitors and help Jalynn get her house back in order. I drop a final trash bag in the garbage can and collapse exhausted on the picnic table. Jalynn slides onto the bench next to me, nudges my side with her elbow, and gives me a grin.

"Looks like someone had a good time," Jalynn says.

"It was okay," I say, downplaying it. Truth is, it went better than I expected.

"No one would have guessed you've been out of the dating game as long as you have by that performance you gave tonight. Caleb is a sweetie. And not bad looking, either!" Jalynn wiggles her eyebrows at me.

"He seems sweet as pie. Who's the guy with the guitar?"

"Oh, that's Jacob. He's a veterinarian, so he's up at the ranch quite a bit. He's a sweetie, too. That girl who was sticking to him, though...she hasn't exactly won many friends around here."

"How come?"

"Girl, let me tell you. She put on this show, acting all sweet when she first came to town a few years ago. She was living in Bozeman but for whatever reason decided to apply for a job with Jacob. Of course, several of the girls in town were disappointed that she swiped Jacob up so quick, but then her true colors came through. She's got her damn nose stuck up so high it's a wonder she hasn't drowned in the rain. They broke up several months ago. I haven't heard anything about him taking her back, but I don't know why else she would've come tonight."

After getting the scoop on the redhead, I don't hang around much longer. I'm anxious to get home and sleep. Back at my camper, I check my phone before settling in for the night. A text from Caleb is already waiting for me.

Caleb: I'm glad we met tonight. I had a great time talking to you.

I smile to myself. He seems like a genuinely nice guy. I need nice in my life. And it certainly doesn't hurt that he's enjoyable to look at, either.

Me: I had fun. I hope your ego wasn't too bruised.

Caleb: If it was, would you help nurse it back to health?

Me: I suppose that would be the responsible thing for me to do. ;)

Caleb: In that case, I'll be sure to remind you to kiss it better when I see you next.

Me: I'm clearly gonna have to keep a close eye on you...

Caleb: I wouldn't have it any other way.

I chuckle at his reply and toss my phone aside. The night replays in my head while I undress and get ready for bed. I didn't have any expectations going into the night, but I was pleased with how things played out. It was a little surprising to see Jacob there, but I was even more surprised by the way I felt drawn to him, especially after the way he acted the other day at the shop. And the day he nearly ran me over in his truck. Evidently, he has a girlfriend, though. Even if he wasn't a jerk, I don't need to waste time dwelling on him. No, Caleb is the much better choice.

I climb into my bed, my routine complete, and plug my phone in for the night. Eventually, I drift off to sleep, only to find my memories awaiting me.

My lungs burned as I pedaled up to the riverbank. I slid off my bike onto tired and wobbly legs after rushing all the way from home. Ben didn't tell me what was wrong, just that it was bad, and he needed me.

I pushed my bike along with me, holding tightly to the handlebars while I scanned the riverbank for Ben. When I spotted his dark-haired head sticking up over the weeds, I dropped the bike and ran over to him.

"Ben!" I gasped, looking down on his bruised and bloodied face. "What happened? Are you okay?"

I dropped down onto my knees in front of him. Unsure of what to do, I wrapped my arms around him and hugged him tightly against me. When he winced, I loosened my grip on him, but I didn't let him go. We stayed wrapped up in each other on the riverbank until the tension began to leak out of Ben's body, and he was ready to talk.

"What happened?" I asked him again.

"Pissed off my old man," he said, his voice cracked. He still wouldn't make eye contact with me. "Made the mistake of breathing, I guess."

The crickets and bullfrogs sang, filling the air between us while I tried to find my words.

"Ben...I'm so sorry," I finally whisper. "You've got to tell your momma what he did."

"She don't give a damn. She watched the whole thing without so much as saying something. She never does. Just lets him go at me and Brian till he's worn himself out."

"Oh, Ben . . ."

I wrapped him up again in my arms and sat silently, his head resting against my chest and warm tears sliding down my cheeks for him.