Finding Our Reality (The Reality Duet #2)

Chapter 21

CRUTCH

The bar is crowded tonight. Will’s had really good luck with lining up popular bands lately. I weave my way through the throngs of people. Some of the off-duty guys holler, asking me to join their table, but I point to the bar. Finding an empty barstool, I lean forward, waving a finger at Cullen.

He finishes with his line of customers, tosses a towel over his shoulder, and shakes my hand. “Hey, man, good to see you.” He sets my normal beer bottle in front of me.

“You too. Crowded tonight.”

“Yeah, the band’s supposed to be good. I thought I might have to miss it. Now that spring has rolled around, the wedding scene is picking up. Dad had a catering order for a rehearsal dinner, but it got canceled because the venue had a burst pipe.”

“That sucks. Did he lose out on the money?”

“The venue offered to pay the couple’s cancellation fee. I keep telling Dad it’s time for us to have our own event space. Something new and unusual and unique.”

“What does he say about that?”

Cullen shrugs. “That he’ll think about it. But I have enough great ideas to last for a lifetime.” He pounds his fist against the bar top and moves on to help another group of customers.

Pulling my cell phone from my pocket, I check the home screen for any missed calls or texts messages. She still hasn’t responded. And that pisses me off. And makes me pathetically sad. Like a lost little puppy.

“Something wrong?”

Will’s voice catches me off guard. I didn’t even see him walk up. “Huh?”

“You’re frowning.”

“I’m not frowning.”

“I’m married. And I have a five-year-old. I know a frown when I see it.”

I pick up my beer. “Is Lulu out of town?”

“No, why?”

“She hasn’t been to the station the last couple of days. She finally texted me yesterday to say she wouldn’t be back in until next week, but she didn’t say why. Did she pick up a job out of town? Something from an attorney or one of the TV shows?”

Will tries to hide his smirk, but he’s not very successful at it. “Missing her?”

There’s no point in lying. “You already know the answer to that.”

He doesn’t make fun of me. I always knew Will was a smart man.

Nodding, he hands a couple of drinks to the people beside me. “She’s sick.”

My ears perk and my stomach drops. “Sick?”

“She’s fine. It’s just a bad cold.”

I take one more glance around the bar. “Is that where Holt is? Taking care of her?”

“Holt’s been in North Carolina since last Friday. He closed on the sale of his condo today. He has some meetings with his financial people and the NFL folks. He won’t be back until Monday.”

My brow furrows. “Well, who’s taking care of her?”

Will laughs. “She’s a thirty-year-old woman, Crutch. I think she can fight a cold all by herself.”

I’m not even paying attention by this point. I’m tossing some money on the bar and rushing out the door.

“Crutch, wait! There’s something you should—”

The door to the bar closes, keeping Will’s parting words locked in with him.

***

I knock on the door, pounding a little harder in case she’s back in her bedroom and can’t hear as easily. Enjoying the warmer nights, bugs fly around the lightbulb hanging above the threshold. I’m about to pull out my phone and call her when the door opens wide.

And I lose my damn mind.

Standing in front of me is a half-naked man. The guy’s dressed in jeans and is holding a T-shirt in his hands. He’s a couple of inches shorter than me but still tall. I can’t even focus on his face because his chest and dumbass man nipples are flashing in my face.

Seriously?

He couldn’t take an extra five seconds and slide the shirt over his head before answering the door?

This has to be the guy—the ‘friend’ from the coffee shop, the ‘friend’ who dropped off her notebook. And he’s walking around my woman’s house.

Half-naked.

Anger runs ice cold through my body, freezing the worried thoughts in my brain.

What did I expect? I did this to myself. Nearly twelve years ago, I walked away, and I’m still paying the price. I’ll be paying it until the day I die. Trapped in a purgatory of my own making.

I’m such an idiot.

She’s doing exactly what I wanted her to do. She’s found someone else. How can I be mad at her for that? It makes no sense.

It makes me hate her. And I have absolutely no right to do that.

And the really stupid thing? It makes me love her even more.

Turning on my heels, I walk away, muttering behind me. “Sorry, wrong house.”

Wrong house. Wrong life. Wrong me .

Turning the ignition in my truck, I sit for a few minutes, trying to gather my scattered thoughts. Dragging my hands down my face, I lift my head and reach for my seat belt when I see the guy walking across the driveway.

Great.

Now, the douche wants to know the real reason I showed up at his girl’s house. Does he even know who I am? Has she even mentioned me?

I can’t see his face through the shine of my headlights, but at least he has a shirt on now. Sighing, I turn off the truck and climb out.

I barely have the door shut when his hand shoots out. “Been a long time. It’s good to see you again, Crutch.”

What? Stepping forward, I study his face for the first time. “Ridge?”

Laughing, he shakes my hand and leans against my truck. “I know I was a little scrawny back then, but surely, I’m not completely unrecognizable.”

What the hell. Cullen’s older brother? Holt’s best friend? “ You’re the one dating Lulu?”

He frowns. “What? No, of course not. Ella’s not dating anyone. Well, not that I know of, I mean.”

“What are you doing here?”

“I just moved back to town. I’m staying here for a few days since Holt’s out of town. My apartment will be ready next week.”

I think back to everything Cullen told me. “You were living down at the beach, right?”

“Yeah, Gulf Shores.”

“And you just moved back?”

“Yeah, my first day with the department is Monday.”

“The fire department?”

He nods, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

“Let me ask you, did you and Lulu grab coffee the other morning?”

His brow furrows. “Yeah. Why?”

“And did you bring something to her at the station the other day?”

“Yeah, one of her notebooks about Carrie. She said she needed it for y’all’s investigation.” He pushes away from the hood of my truck, folding his arms across his chest. “What’s going on, Crutch? Something I should know about?”

I chuckle. That damn little minx. She let me think she was seeing someone, dating someone. “No, everything is fine.”

“Well, obviously you didn’t come here to see me. You came to see Ella, right?”

“Yeah. Will said she was sick. I wanted to check on her.”

Ridge whistles. “I have to warn you, man. Her piss-and-vinegar attitude is even more profound when she’s sick.”

I bite my lip, holding back my smile. “Good. That’s what I like to hear.”

“You know she was never like that when we were growing up. She held everything in. Never showed her emotions. Well, never showed them to anyone but us and Carrie. She always agreed with everything, never ruffled anyone’s feathers. Like some kind of perfect little porcelain doll. Me and Holt used to joke that she was like a balloon, filling up and filling up. We said one day she would just explode. Pop. All of that changed, though, when she met you. She started speaking her mind. Finally stood up to her parents. It was freakin’ amazing.”

She changed me too. For the better.

He taps the watch on his wrist, checking the time. “I still see it some, though. The stiff back, the fake smile, the passive-aggressive politeness. Holt told me to call her out on it. Point it out whenever I see it. But it’s hard to do sometimes. Sometimes, she deserves to be a bitch.” He takes a step toward me, puffing out his broad chest. The smile falls from his face. “After everything she’s been through, you know? Most women aren’t as strong as Ella.”

Are you shitting me? Is he challenging me? Calling me out? “What are you talking about, Ridge? If you have something to say, just say it.”

Taking a deep breath, he takes a step back, shaking the tension from his neck. “Nothing to say. I always liked you, Crutch. I never saw two people better fitted for each other than you and Ella. I’m just saying that none of us wanna see her hurt again.”

“I have no intention of hurting her.” Deciding to bring honesty into the conversation, I add what we’re both already thinking. “Again, I mean. I have no intention of ever hurting her again.”

He judges the look on my face before smiling. “Good. I have to head out. I have a date.”

I glance around. The only vehicles in the driveway are mine and Lulu’s two cars—her old SUV and the newer one she drove up from Mobile. “Where’d you park?”

Ridge starts walking across the front yard. “I parked in the garage over on the Big House. Oh, by the way, she refused to eat. There’s a can of chicken soup on the counter if you can force her.”

I watch as he disappears into the curtain of the night sky. The relief that floods over me when I walk back to the door is almost humorous. Almost. I can’t believe she let me think Ridge was a new man in her life. It’s bad enough to know she has the random one-night stands from the bar.

Well, it’s more than bad. But I can’t think about that right now.

I knock several times, chuckling when I hear her grunting and fussing on the other side of the door.

“Damn it, Ridge. How hard is it to remember a house key! You’re a grown-ass man, for goodness’ sake.” She jerks the door open with so much force I worry she may rip it off the hinges. Her jaw drops when she sees me standing in front of her.

The sight of her nearly brings me to my knees.

Her face is makeup free, and her messy hair is piled high on her head. She looks even younger without her makeup on. Flawless skin, flawless face. Her cheeks are rosy with the flush of a fever. Her nose is bright red and raw from blowing it, and her lips are swollen and dry. Even sick, she’s the epitome of beauty.

My voice catches in my throat when I see what she’s wearing. The T-shirt is faded, having been washed and dried a thousand times, but there’s no mistaking the emblem on the left breast of the blue shirt. Harlan’s Garage and Automotive.

She’s wearing my shirt. It’s shorter now than it used to be, barely covering her ass and panties.

And she’s not wearing any pants or shorts.

“What the hell, Lulu. You just go walking around the house without any clothes on? Ridge was just here. Did you let him see your ass?”

Her mouth closes, and she grinds her teeth. “I wasn’t walking around the house. I was covered up. With a blanket. On my nice, comfortable couch. Until some jackass pounded on my front door. And no, Ridge doesn’t check out my butt. Don’t be gross.”

“Me? You’re the one who let me think Ridge was some guy you were dating.”

She tries to hide her smile, but does a very poor job with it. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I told you it was just a friend.”

I lick my lips, trailing my eyes across her long, lean legs. “Oh, you know exactly what I’m talking about.”

She shivers underneath the intensity of my gaze. Either that, or her fever is rising, giving her the chills.

She sniffles and then coughs. “Why are you here?”

“To take care of you. Will told me you were sick.”

“I’m fine. I can take care of myself.”

“I know you can. I’m here because I wanna take care of you, not because I need to take care of you.” That’s not really true. I need her, just like I need air to breathe.

She opens her mouth to tell me no, but I stop her. “I’m not leaving, Lulu. You know that. I know that. So save us both some trouble and let me in.”

She growls. The extra effort makes her cough again. “Fine.”

The second she turns to walk away, I do fall to my knees.

Literally.

Flashes of concern bounce through my mind like vicious lightning strikes. The pinkish-purple line doesn’t belong on her beautiful skin. It’s foreign. New. Wrong. Its home shouldn’t be on her tanned and perfect body. Grabbing her waist, I pull her closer to me. Wrapping my fingers around her left thigh, I lift the hem of her shirt, searching for the starting point of her scar. She stumbles against me, placing her hands on my shoulders to stabilize herself.

“Ry! What are you doing?”

Ignoring her white cotton panties and the fact that my hands are agonizingly close to her crotch, I trace the long surgical scar with my finger. It feels flatter than it looks. It disappears underneath her panties. Not asking for permission, I grab the elastic band and push it up, out of my way. The scar starts at the crest of her pelvis bone and runs for at least eleven or twelve inches down her hip and thigh. There are two smaller scars on her thigh, closer to the round globe of her ass. Looks like she had stitches.

“Lulu, what the hell happened to you? Are you okay? Did you have surgery?”

“Ry.”

I rub my thumb back and forth against her skin, like the scar is a smudge of dirt I can just wipe off. “Tell me what happened.”

“Ry.” Her voice breaks with emotion.

My head snaps back. Oh my god. My Lulu is about to cry. I whisper, scattering my breath across her bare skin. “Lulu?”

She closes her eyes and licks her lips. “You have to stop touching me. Please. Please stop touching me.”

Lowering my head, I absorb the sight before me, taking in every small detail. Her scars. The chill bumps that flare across her skin with the caress of my finger. The thin white fabric that separates me from her most private part.

I can still taste her. I can still feel my body buried deep inside of her.

I’ve thought of nothing less every time I’ve closed my eyes. For twelve years, I’ve drifted off to sleep every single night thinking of her. Her body. The way her pussy was made for me. No two things have ever fit together more perfectly. My Lulu and me.

“Why? Why do I need to stop?”

She blinks her eyes open. “I can’t think when you touch me.”

“And?”

“And I don’t want you to stop.”

Holy. Shit. “And that’s a bad thing?” The scent of her arousal floods around me, making my dick hard as a rock.

“Yes. Because that’s not our reality. And reality reminds you where you belong, right?” Stepping out of my grasp, she leaves me empty and wanting.

I despise the fact that I allowed those words to rule my life—and hers—for so many years.

It’s time to make my own reality. With Lulu.

Silently, she walks back over to the couch and crawls underneath a thick blanket. It takes a minute before I can stand without breaking my erection in half. Crossing the living room, I sit on the coffee table in front of her. There’s some throat spray and cold medicine spread across the tabletop. There’s a trash can on the floor next to her, filled to the brim with snotty, used tissues. Eyeing me, she pulls the blanket up to her chin.

Reaching across, I bend down, pressing the back of my hand across her forehead. “You have a fever.”

“I just took some medicine right before you got here. It’ll break soon.”

“You plan on telling me what happened?”

“No.”

“Well, I suggest you quickly modify your plans, then.”

Despite herself, she smiles softly at our familiar game of words. “I had a hip replacement.”

I shake my head in disbelief. “A hip replacement. When?”

“The fall after I left town. November.”

“You had a hip replacement when you were eighteen? Why?”

“I was in a car accident. I was driving and someone hit me. My hip was basically crushed by the driver-side door.”

I can’t even wrap my head around the words coming from her mouth. I drag my hand across my face, scratching my facial hair. “Shit. But you’re okay? You don’t limp,” I say, stating the obvious. “You’re okay, right?”

Please say you’re okay. Please. Please. Please.

“I’m fine. I had an excellent surgeon. It was a long recovery, but I’m all good. My hip doesn’t hurt at all.”

My woman nearly died. My Lulu nearly died. No wonder Ridge said she was strong.

I should’ve been there. But I wasn’t.

Hudson was.

“It happened in Michigan? When you were with Hudson?”

She nods, holding out her hand for a fresh tissue. I pull one from the box on the coffee table and give it to her, waiting on her to blow her nose. “He wasn’t in the car with me, no. But the wreck did happen when we were married, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me. You freaked out when I didn’t tell you about my injury. And then you keep something like this from me?”

“That’s different, and you know it. A car accident is just that—an accident. Someone wasn’t actively trying to kill me. I wasn’t laying my life on the line to protect someone else. My body has healed, Ry. You still have pieces of metal coming out of your body.”

It’s a moot point to argue with her about that. So I choose something else to argue about instead. “Wanna tell me why you let me think Ridge was some new boyfriend?”

Poking her stubborn little chin in the air, she squints her eyes. “To make you jealous. Is that what you wanna hear?”

“Is that the truth? Because if it is, your plan succeeded.”

She snorts, making herself cough. “Truth. That’s always been a scary word around us, hasn’t it?” She flops back against the couch pillow and flings her arm over her eyes. “And by the way, that’s a rhetorical question, Ry. I don’t have the energy for that fight tonight.”

I don’t think I have the energy for it, either. Even though I know damn well what the truth is.

I slap my hands against my thighs and stand up. “You need to eat. I’m fixing you some soup.” I grab her empty water cup and head over to the kitchen, smiling when she whines.

Just a few minutes later, I return with chicken noodle soup, crackers, and a fresh glass of ice water. It’s no use; she’s passed out. Breathing deeply, her chest heaves up and down in her sleep, and I’m glad to see the red fever in her cheeks has dimmed. Setting everything on the table, I sit on the end of the couch. Lifting her lower legs, I hold her feet in my lap, making sure to keep my hands on top of the blanket. The last thing I need tonight is another raging boner from the feel of her bare skin.

I study the curve of her body, the peaceful look on her face, the lines of her collarbone peeking out from the collar of my old T-shirt. Like I said, I know the truth. The truth is she’s the love of my life. Always has been, always will be.

I love her.

Tucking the blanket around her, I whisper into her dreams. “You’re mine, Lulu. All mine. Never before and never after. There’s only you. And now, I just have to make you realize it too.”

I chuckle. “Game on.”