Lance Read online

  With shaking hands, I manage to set the glass back on the bar.

  Jennifer and Lynn come bouncing over before I can make more of a fool of myself. Lynn stops short and looks Rush up and down before changing her facial features.

  “Lance?” she questions as Rush looks over to her and smiles.

  “Ashlynn,” he replies.

  “How do you two know each other?” I question, sobering up really quick. Ashlynn, I wondering why he is calling her that.

  “You weren’t kidding?” Lynn asks him rather than answering me.

  “I kid about a lot of things, but the beauty of a woman? Never.”

  She smiles at him. Lynn never smiles at a man. She was married for five years to her high school sweetheart, the only man who ever gave her a second glance, and when the opportunity presented itself, he cheated.

  She is a curvy girl like me, maybe a size bigger since her divorce. When Dex was leaving, he blamed her size for his stepping out. Whatever. The years of his comments only made her feel more out of control rather than help her to overcome her weight problems.

  She smiles up at Lance before explaining the name issue. “I should tell you, I’m not available. Also, my name is Lynn, not Ashlynn. You should know that, too, since you and Candy are pretty cozy.”

  “Well, I gathered things weren’t going far after our meeting when you didn’t advance things,” Rush responds.

  “Wait! You hit on her?”

  “She’s a beautiful woman, and I didn’t know you, Ace,” he calmly replies.

  I know I am overreacting. I know I am certifiably crazy to feel the pang of jealousy that has consumed me. Doesn’t mean I can stop myself, though.

  “What are you, like a sex addict? Any hole will do? First my best friend, then you meet me and kiss me stupid, and now tonight I think I might actually learn something about you, but oh wait, my best friend already has the answers, doesn’t she?”

  Why does he drive me so crazy? How does he get me in such a fit of emotions when I don’t even know his last name?

  The room spins, making me feel like I am turning green as my stomach churns. Pushing off the bar, I hurry to the bathroom, forgetting everyone and everything.

  After the contents of my tummy are safely down the toilet, I make my way out of the stall to wash my hands.

  “Candy,” Lynn begins. “It’s not what you think.”

  “He hit on you. Now he’s hitting on me. That says desperation. I don’t need that in my life. Thanks but no thanks.”

  “Stop, Candy. Yes, we danced. We talked after I was an epic bitch. Lance really does love the curves of a woman. I thought he was playing a joke on me, but he wasn’t. He seems like a good dude.”

  “You told him your name was Ashlynn, not Lynn, so you didn’t trust him enough with your name. How good of a dude could he be?”

  “Well, the fact that, not knowing I was here, he still chose a big girl over all the Barbie types out there tonight tells me he genuinely meant what he said about not wanting to split a girl in two.”

  I shake my head. “I don’t wanna know.”

  “Give him a chance, Candy.”

  “Doesn’t matter. I’m sure, with my crazy reaction and then taking off, he’s long gone by now.”

  I splash water on my face. Nothing good is meant for me, anyway.

  CHAPTER NINE

  ~Lance~

  She needed space. I let her have that play. I truly think the alcohol got to her, but it was more than that.

  Waiting outside of the ladies room, I try to keep my thoughts from getting the best of me. Not knowing her past, I can understand misplaced emotions, but I didn’t do anything wrong.

  I lean against the wall and wait.

  And wait.

  I watched her friends go in with her, but no one has emerged. My mind races while I sit tight to keep my body from pacing.

  And I wait.

  This is not my strong suit by any stretch of the imagination. Common sense tells me to walk away. I don’t do high maintenance, and she may need more than I can give.

  Closing my eyes, I see her golden ones watching me. They haunt me. They call to me. They make me crave her.

  So I wait.

  She is worth the wait. She is more than enough, and something tells me she is going to give me the biggest rush of my entire life … if I can just break through.

  The door swings open, and she walks out behind her friends.

  “Ace,” I call out as she passes.

  “Umm…”

  “You okay?”

  She nods.

  “Look, I’m not one to play games or beat around the bush. I’m attracted to you, and I’d like to get to know you, preferably when you aren’t some place you don’t know and when you aren’t under the influence.” I pull my phone out of my back pocket and hand it to her. “Save your number for me, and I’ll give you a call in a few days.”

  She does as instructed.

  “Lance,”—my name coming off her lips has my dick coming to life—“thanks for understanding.”

  “Simple beauty, Ace.”

  She raises an eyebrow at me.

  “Go home, sleep it off. I’ll be in touch.”

  I start to walk away, but she reaches out to stop me. “My friends call me Candy.”

  “I call you Ace,” I reply with a wink.

  “Why?”

  “Aces are wild and a winning hand.” I lean down and kiss her forehead. “You’re my Ace.”

  Her group is ready to leave, so I walk them out and make sure she is safely settled in the back of the cab. As I shut the door, I can’t help feeling like I am always watching her leave.

  Making my way inside, I go back to my usual table where Heath and LoraLeigh are taking a break from dancing to have a drink.

  “Rush, you losing your touch or something, man?”

  Playfully, I push Heath’s shoulder. “Fuck you. One-night stands aren’t my style. I met her before. She’s going through some shit.”

  “Aren’t we all?” LoraLeigh chimes in, smiling sweetly at Heath. “Maybe she needs the right person to come along and help her get through it.”

  “Not sure I’m the right person.”

  “From where I stand—and coming from where I stood—there aren’t any men better than Heath, you, Wendol, Maverick, and even Drunken Monkey over there.” She gestures to the raised platform Reese is mixing on. “What’s that saying?” She taps her chin dramatically as if in thought. “Everything’s bigger in Texas. Well, I happen to think everything’s better in Texas.”

  We all laugh, and then the conversation moves to regular life. After an hour or so more, we all head home.

  It’s late, and my bed is large and lonely. I toss. I turn. Reaching out to my nightstand, I grab my phone and check the time. Three fourteen in the morning and I’m alone.

  This has never bothered me before, so why now?

  Simple. I can’t help wishing Ace was here. Never have I had a pull to a woman like this.

  I blow out a frustrated breath, flick the screen of my phone, and go to my contacts.

  Candace Jones.

  There, in the same basic-black font as every other name in my address book, is the one person I can’t seem to escape.

  I tap her name, and the screen opens to the full contact. My thumb lingers over the text box. Before I stop myself or give more thought to the hour or pause to even reach out, I type.

  Goodnight, beautiful. I hope you sleep well. Here’s my number. Talk soon, Rush.

  I press send then throw the phone, which bounces unceremoniously off the bed and onto the floor.

  What am I, a teenage boy again? This woman is going to think I am a crazy-ass stalker or some shit. I told her I would call in a few days, yet here I am, chasing her like some idiot. Can’t get you out of my mind, please use my number. That’s what she will read between the lines.

  Pausing, I think. It’s the truth.

  I can’t get her out of my mind. I want her to
use that number almost as much as I want my next breath. It feels like a necessity somehow.

  Running my fingers through my hair, I pull at the roots in frustration. How does she have me so twisted?

  The ping sounds on my phone for a text message, and like a lovesick fool, I find myself jumping out of bed before I can give it a second thought. Scrambling around naked to find a phone in the middle of the night is not attractive. It’s a damn good thing no one can see me.

  When I get the phone and pick it up, the screen is lit from the notification. With a swipe and tap of the indicator, there is her reply.

  Sweet dreams, Rush.

  Oh, they will be now.

  Something inside me calms knowing she replied. The need inside me to protector her settles knowing she has a way to reach out to me. More than that, there is a place that once felt very empty and hollow that suddenly feels alive.

  CHAPTER TEN

  ~Candace~

  When something seems too good to be true, it probably is. The old saying has stood the test of time. Yet, how many people have gotten wrapped up and hustled even knowing they should trust their gut?

  Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me. Well, Lady Love, we danced once, twice, and I’m not sure I can handle a third. Thanks but no thanks.

  I keep trying to tell myself these things. I keep trying to find a way to stop myself from replying. Three weeks, we have been messaging back and forth. No matter the time, I can’t help stopping and sending back something immediately.

  Desperate much, Candy? I want to smack myself.

  This isn’t my first rodeo, and I don’t seem to ever go the distance. The good morning and goodnight messages were great little boosts to my day until now.

  Nope, Lance wants to take me out.

  Me.

  He wants to go on a date with me. Three times now, he has asked, and I have made up one excuse or another.

  A real date.

  Lady Love has not been kind to me. Why should she? Chocolate is my best friend, along with cookies, ice cream, and carbs. Carbohydrates have their own comfort. Don’t knock it till you try it. A full belly and a nice afternoon nap make life’s woes disappear, even if it’s only long enough to get by until the next meal.

  When the chime dings, alerting me to another text, I look at the screen.

  Ace?

  I love it when he calls me that. He is wrong, though. I am no one’s winning hand, but it does feel nice to have someone think that.

  I open the bag of chips and begin munching while I stare blankly at the screen. I can’t reply. I’m out of excuses. I have no escape. Another mouthful. Another ding.

  Ace, you okay?

  Of course he would worry. Fat girl sitting around, waiting for hot boy to give her a moment. Duh, I am always replying right away. I am always sitting around, waiting for the hot boy to give me a moment.

  And he has.

  When I look at it, he’s given me lots of moments, every single one of which I have been quick and eager to respond to.

  Another mouthful of chips goes in as I delve deeper into my level of pathetic.

  He wants me. He can see firsthand just how ugly I am.

  I’m off this weekend. Saturday night, we can go out.

  I type the reply and press send before I can second-guess myself. Before I realize it, I finished the entire bag of potato chips. Something has to give; something has to change.

  The rest of the week passes in a blur. Long before I am mentally ready, Saturday is here. Dressing casually, I slip on my dark wash jeans, topped with a one shoulder, black, frilly and flowing shirt and a pair of understated black flats. My hair is naturally frizzy, and under normal circumstances, I would flat iron it, but tonight is about showing Lance exactly what he is getting with me. I leave the makeup off, even though I am feeling more insecure by the moment.

  The sound of his motorcycle outside lets me know he is here. All right, time to get this done.

  Before he can ring the bell, I am at the door, stepping out. Thinking on it, I should have told him I would meet him at the restaurant and not given him my address.

  I’m already messing up my plan to mess this up. It’s epic failure number nine hundred seventy-five in the world of Candace Jones. Will I ever get anything right?

  Slipping my keys into my pocket, my phone, ID, and credit card are already in my back pocket. Never leave home without something to pay your own way—one lesson Momma taught me that is true.

  After a quick hello and a kiss on the cheek, we head out. The ride to dinner is peaceful. The whine of his bike is soothing in its own way. I relax against him, even though I shouldn’t. Having him here, in front of me, changes the way I feel instantly. It’s hard to want to push him away when he is so handsome, kind, and considerate. When it’s just messages, I can justify keeping him at a distance much easier.

  It isn’t long before we are at the restaurant, seated and ordering drinks.

  “Talk to me, Ace.”

  “About what?”

  “Something is dancing in those gorgeous eyes. Tell me what’s going on in your head.”

  “I’m not gonna sleep with you tonight,” I blurt out.

  He smiles at me, and I swear my heart swells.

  “Well, not that I don’t wanna have sex with you, Ace, and I may live for the rush, but I’m in no rush. When you’re ready, I’ll be here.”

  “I’ll never be ready,” I chime back, not so sweetly.

  He leans back in his chair and studies me. “Always working overtime to keep me away.”

  “What do you mean? I respond to every message. How is that keeping you away?”

  “The answers are short. I’m gonna keep it real with you, Ace. I’m attracted to you, and I wanna get to know you. I wanna see if we can have something. If that’s not what you want, tell me now, but I’m not real big on games.”

  I blow out a frustrated breath. “How many real relationships have you been in?”

  “None.”

  His honesty shocks me. “How old are you?”

  “Twenty-eight.”

  “How have you not had a single relationship, then?”

  Without hesitation, he answers, “Never wanted one until now.”

  “Yet, you don’t sleep around.” I raise an eyebrow at him.

  “Told you, Ace, I don’t like games. Sex is sex. Sure, I have sex, but I like to know a little bit about the woman I’m burying myself inside. I don’t need to know her social security number, her bank account, and her credit score, but yeah, I like to know a little bit about her. Nothing has ever built itself into something more, though.”

  “How’s that?”

  “It’s me.”

  What the ever loving what? How is this man—this oh-so-sexy, hard-working man—at fault for any woman not pushing for more?

  My confusion must show, as he continues. “I don’t believe dating should take work other than the finding time to see each other. Marriage and keeping love alive is work. I believe in dedication to a partner.” He pauses to sip his drink. “Falling, though, Ace, falling is just that—an uncontrollable rush. In order to have a serious relationship and not merely date, one must allow themselves to fall. And falling isn’t work. If you gotta force yourself to fall for someone, they aren’t the one. After a date or two or a night spent together, you either fall or you don’t, simple enough. I haven’t fallen … until now.”

  He hasn’t fallen … until now.

  While he stares at me, I say nothing. He does this to me, renders me speechless.

  Eventually, our waitress breaks up the silence that has settled between us. The food is good, and we chat briefly about our entrees, keeping things light.

  Throughout the meal, his words continue to rattle around in my head like a ping pong ball. He hasn’t fallen … until now.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  ~Lance~

  Candace gives little away. I can’t get a read on her. I know she is trying to push me away, but she
can’t seem to just tell me to fuck off. I have learned bits and pieces in the conversations we have had since our first date, and she is beautiful, inside and out.

  She has her guard up, though. I understand that. It is one of the things I cherish about her. Over the years, I wish my mom would have had a guard to put up rather than open herself to every Tom, Dick, and Harry to use her and leave me to pick up the pieces.

  When you find that person, it isn’t something you have to work at in a way that’s painful. Most people would think, oh for Candace, they have to work to win her trust. I don’t have to work for it. I have to be myself and let her see she is safe with me. The work comes into play after the commitment is made. You have to work on yourself. You have to make sure you keep the relationship a priority. Falling is the easy part. Be yourself, and if it’s meant to be, the pieces will fall into place. Keeping the love alive is work because, over time, people change.

  Ace will see I am worth the risk. In the end, the gamble will pay off. I will give her time, and she will see.

  Two months go by, and she is still keeping me at a distance. We talk daily, text constantly when I am not on the rig. We go out. We make out. Then I leave her on her doorstep and come home to find my release in the shower with my hand. I can wait, though. The more I am around her, the more I want to be.

  Today, she is moody. I know she is pushing hard to keep me out. From what I have gathered, she isn’t close with her parents, but tonight, she wants me to meet them. This has alarm bells ringing for me. However, again, I will give her this play.

  Dinner comes all too soon, and quickly, I find out why her family isn’t close. It begins with her mother ordering a Caesar salad for her and goes downhill from there.

  “Lance, what does a man like you want with a girl like Candy?” her mother asks while tapping her perfectly manicured fingers on the table.

  Her father, a small man in stature and in being, sits quietly through the entire exchange, saying nothing. This surprises me, as more times than not, it is the father worrying over whom their daughters date.