Page 114 of Always a Bridesmaid
To say the past several days had sucked was a major understatement. Over and over, Ford tried to convince himself he’d done the right thing. That even though he hadn’t wanted it to end the way it did, it was better to find out they weren’t compatible in the long run than drag it out.
He fully understood he had no right to see Violet. To stop by the bakery and ask how she was. Didn’t stop him from wanting to.
Lexi was pissed upon learning he and Violet had broken up, and when he’d askedherhow Violet was, she’d reminded him of the one thing she’d instructed him not to do: hurt Violet, because she’d been hurt already.
To top off her rant, Lexi told him that if he wanted to know, he should grow some balls and ask Violet himself.
It was the first time he’d ever heard her say something less than debutante-ish.
While he’d originally been excited about Addie and Tucker’s wedding—and about it being over and done with, to be honest—he wasn’t looking forward to tomorrow.
For all his insistence that he didn’t care what the townsfolk thought, it wasn’t going to be easy to ignore them, Violet, Maisy, and whoever else decided to glare daggers—that he totally deserved—at him.
Not that anyone could say anything worse than what he’d been telling himself. He’d done far too good a job of searing his and Violet’s night at chimney rock into his memory. If he dropped his defenses for even a second, he’d be under the tree with her.
Worshiping her naked body as they lay on the blanket.
Picturing the symbols they’d sprayed in a place that used to belong to only him.
Trouble padded over to the front door, stared at it, and whimpered.
“I know, buddy.” A lump formed in Ford’s throat, and he rubbed his gritty eyes. “She’s not coming back.”
The whimpers grew louder as Trouble pawed at the wood, and Ford didn’t have the heart to scold him.
Not when he wanted to flop on the floor next to the puppy and cry himself.
Ford eyed the stack of empty beer cans on the coffee table from last night’s pity session. It’d started at the bachelor party, which had been a low-key celebration that’d included poker and rehashing old memories.
After losing his stack of chips in record time, he’d come home and continued to drink and drink until there wasn’t another drop of alcohol in the house. All those months of his friends insisting he turn off the scanner and be present, and he couldn’t. Until last night, when he’d clicked off the damn machine and hurled it across the room.
Between the empties and the disheveled state of his place, he felt more like his father than he ever had before, and that chapped his lazy ass.
Insult to injury seemed to be the theme lately. Like when Tucker and Shep were baffled he and Violet hadn’t worked out. Easton relayed the news about her record in an attempt to stand up for Ford’s choice to cut things off, and the two whipped guys of the bunch had looked at him as ifhewas the unstable one.
“Guess I’d better shower and clean up this place,” Ford said to his canine audience. His joints creaked as he retrieved the scanner. He clicked it on, glad it didn’t seem any worse for wear, and set it on the mantel. “Then we should continue our training. I’ve been slacking lately, and we’ll never reach the six-hundred-hour mark if we sit around and sulk.”
Pyro’s eyebrows twitched, his unspokenyou’re the one who’s been mopingcoming across loud and clear.
“That’s what I’m saying. That I’m done whining about it. Yeah, I liked Violet. For as squirrely as she was, she also had a calming presence about her. Not to mention that killer sense of humor.” A smile trembled across his mouth, even as his heart jackknifed in his chest. “Then there was the way she’d get all distracted and off in her own world…”
Well, that wasn’t helping, and Ford buried the mushy sensations attempting to overtake him under images of that ridiculous wedding planning binder. “But I’m not ready to settle down. In the end, we wanted different things. Life is supposed to be an adventure, not an institution.”
With a huff, Pyro flopped onto his bed, and then it felt like the entire world was disappointed in him.
“Great. I lost the girl, and now I’m sitting around talking to dogs, one more loss away from becoming a country song.” Factor in the fact that he smelled like a brewery and he might already be there.
Ford gathered as many beer cans as he could into his arms and walked them to the trash can. Thanks to his lack of desire to do a damn thing, it was overflowing, so he had to compact the garbage before he could remove the bag and take it outside.
All four dogs were barking when he reentered through the back door.
His heart leaped in his chest, a foolish thought accompanied by an even more preposterous amount of hope.
Maybe Violet’s here.
As awful as the ending had been, they’d had a lot of great moments. With her moving to Uncertainty for good, would he have to relive them again and again?
Worse, would he watch her date some perfect schmuck who was ready for marriage and babies?
