Faith, Honor & Freedom (3 page)

I remember having a huge crush on him when I was sixteen until I caught him having sex with Marsha Connors on my hammock in the backyard when Mom and Dad were out of town. I don’t think he’s taken a break since. My heart was momentarily crushed, but I moved on and had my first boyfriend not long after. My daddy taught me better than to date someone like that. I eventually had to forgive him, especially since he had no idea I even liked him.

We pull into the parking lot at Nature’s Children. It’s just a small children’s boutique, but it carries some of my favorite baby products. I’m here a lot as I always try and buy my clients a goodbye gift. I usually receive one from them, and it definitely makes the whole exchange a lot less awkward. With Violet being my best friend, it’s going to have to be a great gift.

We walk into the boutique, and I have to laugh at how out of place Hoss looks in a baby store—his wide shoulders barely clearing the aisles. Within minutes, an eager woman is flocking to his side—not mine—to ask if he needs help. Not that they don’t know me here by now; I’m probably their best customer. I guess I still have a tiny bit of jealousy where women are concerned with Hoss.

“Can I help you find something?” Myrna, or so her nametag says, purrs to Hoss.

“I think I’ve just found it,” he says, winking and taking in the slender blonde from head to toe. I gag a little, and continue to the back of the store. I grab the teal green Aden and Anais daydream blanket I had planned to buy Vi. I bought Gavin’s months ago when Vi was still pregnant, and she had fallen in love. This is the bigger adult version, so I know she will love it. It will also make me feel slightly less guilty about the deposit they made in my bank account, without my consent, earlier this week. I was more than happy do this one pro bono, but Jack’s pride wouldn’t allow it.

I whistle over to Hoss, attempting to pull his attention back to the reason he dragged me here, instead of the set of double D’s his eyes are locked on. “They’re so big because she’s lactating, Hoss. Now hurry your ass up,” I say loudly and then watch as the hilarity unfolds. Myrna jumps back as though I physically assaulted her. I turn my back and listen to her scramble to explain the real reason her boobs are so huge. I tune it out, as I so often have to do when it comes to Hoss.

“That was a real bitch move,” he says, coming up behind me.

“I didn’t get dragged away from a hot bath in my own house to get you a date. I’m here to make sure Gavin doesn’t get crappy gifts,” I say, grabbing a Sleepy Wrap, some Applecheeks cloth diapers in a few prints I know Vi hasn’t purchased yet, and some breastfeeding products.

“What the hell is this shit? I meant good baby shit, like a miniature Harley or something,” he says, looking confused.

“A baby carrier, cloth diapers, and things that make your favorite part of a woman’s body feel better,” I say laughing. I can’t wait until he hears the total.

“What the hell? Sex toys? Maybe I should come more often,” he says, turning around and attempting to get a look at blondie again.

“Unreal,” I huff, dumping everything onto the counter. I push the blanket aside into its own pile. I look up to a familiar brown eyed cashier. I’ve been her doula for two of her four children.

“Just throw that in there,” he says, nodding his head toward the blanket.

“I’ve got it. It’s for Vi, not Gavin.”

Hoss—being Hoss—grabs the blanket and hands it to the cashier. I stifle back laughter as I wait for her to tell him the total.

“That’s three hundred and thirty four dollars and ninety six cents,” she says, placing the purchases into bags.

“What!” Hoss bellows.

“That blanket was a hundred and twenty five dollars, you dumbass,” I say, turning to the cashier. “Take the blanket off, please.”

Hoss seems to recover from the initial shock. “No, leave it. I’ve got it. MasterCard please,” he says pulling out his dark leather wallet from his back pocket. We wait as the cashier wraps the gifts, and loads them into bags. I’ll pay him back somehow. I don’t like to be supported by anyone, especially after I’ve already taken so much from Rhett.

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t help myself,” I say to Hoss, still laughing.

“For ruining a potential date and making me wonder if every pair of tits I see are milk jugs, or for spending a ridiculous amount of money on baby shit? I guess it’s still cheaper than a Harley,” he says sarcastically.

“If cheaper than a Harley was my only criteria, I guess I should have tried to squeeze a lunch in there, too,” I say, as he unlocks his truck and we climb inside.

“You hungry?” he asks.

“What gave you that bright idea?”

“Put your belt on, and be good for once.”

I pull the seat belt around and click it into place. I don’t even have to ask where we’re going. It’s always a given when we’re together. We pull into Café Italia, a small Italian restaurant that just happened to be Rhett’s favorite. We enter the restaurant, where my nose is in for a treat, as always. I swear, no place on Earth smells better than this.

“Hey guys,” Andrea says, not bothering to grab the menus. She leads us over to our usual booth and I scoot inside.

The restaurant has a warm, cozy feel. There are four booths and four tables, but it could easily be a huge franchise—in my opinion at least. The atmosphere is what really makes the place, though. The servers are friendly, the place is quaint, and it offers a lot of privacy.

“The usual?” Andrea asks, referring to our drinks. I nod, and look up at the daily specials, praying for three-cheese pizza.

No such luck.

“What are you having?” I ask Hoss, now on the hunt for a new lunch idea.

“Penne Aribiata.”

“Boring, you get that at least half the time.” It’s actually pretty good, but I’m really craving pizza, I just don’t know which kind.

Hoss ignores me, which he tends to do a lot. At least he doesn’t flirt with the waitresses here. What’s that saying?
You don’t shit where you eat
. Yeah, Hoss doesn’t fuck where he eats. It would leave him with nowhere left to eat, and with his cooking skills, it’s just not a risk he can afford to take.

Andrea returns with my cherry Italian soda and his large Americano. The man can down some serious caffeine. I make up my mind and order a slice of vegetarian pizza and a warm spinach salad. We sit in silence for a few minutes, before Hoss excuses himself to the washroom.

And that’s when I see him. Tall, dirty blonde hair, hands the size of tennis rackets and striking hazel eyes. He’s standing up at the main counter ordering, while Andrea swoons. He’s wearing an olive green long-sleeved shirt with a few buttons undone at the base of his neck, exposing his tanned skin. His jeans are faded, dirty and torn in a few places. Not in the
designer, pay three hundred dollars and receive already torn jeans
sort of way, but in the
I work hard and it happens
sort of way.

I’m not even going to attempt to lie. I am point blank staring at this man, mouth agape, heart thumping, when he turns and catches me. I quickly avert my eyes, trying to think of something to make myself look busy. I grab my cell phone out of my pocket and send out a random ‘What’s up’ text to Angela, one of my gym buddies.

I’ve never been one to flirt, or even pursue a guy. It’s usually all pretty meh for me. My cheeks are burning in embarrassment.

I hear Hoss slide back into the booth across from me. Thankful for a true distraction, I look up from my phone, only to realize it’s not Hoss. Not even close.

“Alec,” he says, flashing his beautiful smile my way. He extends his hand for me to shake. I become acutely aware that my hand is extremely sweaty and there’s no way I can put mine into his. Instead, I continue to stare at him like an idiot, memorizing the symmetry in his handsome face.

“Excuse me?” I hear Hoss say aggressively. I shake my head, attempting to snap back to reality.

I look up to see Alec glaring at Hoss, and Hoss giving him a look like he’s going to rip his heart out and eat it. I absolutely despise his big brother shit.

Alec stands up without a word to Hoss, and walks over to my side of the booth. He grabs a hold of my hand with those massive calloused hands of his and kisses the back of it gently, slipping what I later find out to be his business card into it. “Until next time,” he says smugly.

“Until then,” I reply breathily.

“What the hell was that?” Hoss growls. I ignore him and choose to stare at Alec as he walks out of the restaurant and down the street. Small ass, but with a face like that, who cares?

“Jesus Christ, Lana, breathe,” Hoss orders in an annoyed tone.

“Stop big brothering me, and stop being such a macho asshole to anyone who comes near me! I’m not sixteen anymore. Rhett would have stopped with this bullshit by now!” I say, and feel the pang of loss at his name.

“That guy was the asshole, Lana. You clearly came here with someone; my drink was on the table. What kind of skeezeball would try and steal someone’s girlfriend,” he huffs.

“Except I’m not your girlfriend! I’m no one’s girlfriend! In fact, I haven’t even had a date in almost a year. Lay off, Hoss, I mean it,” I seethe.

Andrea chooses that moment to interrupt with our food, and I’m grateful. The quicker I can eat, the quicker I can get out of here. I glance down at the card he slipped into my hand.
Alec Dalton of Dalton Construction
. It lists his email and his phone number. Reading the gold letters one last time, I slip it into my purse.

I eat swiftly, without even tasting the food, which is a crying shame. I finish before Hoss and saunter to the counter to pay Andrea. I pay for Hoss’s, too, just because I know it will piss him off. I walk out the front door with Hoss hot on my tail. He grabs a hold of my arm and spins me around.

“Shit, Lana, I’m sorry. You deserve better than that guy, though,” he says gently.

“I don’t know if you got a look at him through those glaring eyes of yours, but I don’t think there is better, Hoss,” I say, with my attitude still intact.

“Someday you’ll thank me,” is all he says, before turning and opening the passenger side door to his truck. I’ve heard that one from him before.

I hop up into his truck, choosing to remain silent. I buckle up before he even gets in, so he doesn’t have a reason to speak with me either. I know he means well, but at this rate, I’m never going to have the family I’ve been dreaming of, and it’s not even me holding myself back.

Chapter 3

Hoss – Get over it, Lana. Rhett would have done the same thing
.

Reading the latest text message from Hoss, I can’t help but think it’s a low blow. He’s been texting and calling since yesterday when he dropped me off. The messages started out kind, but as time wore on, he started getting angrier. I know the secret weapon to Hoss, and it’s in the form of doing nothing at all. He despises the silent treatment and therefore, I’ve become pretty proficient at it over the years.

I sink back down into my bath and allow the warmth to soak into my skin. It’s the second bath I’ve taken since I’ve been home. A birth and post-partum week is always pretty tough on my body. Luckily, most clients hire me for the birth alone, and if they do hire me for post-partum, it’s more providing meals and breastfeeding support. For a best friend, though, I’m there for everything. Right down to scrubbing her toilets. That’s how much I love Vi.

I also adore my job. I would have liked to follow in my gram’s footsteps and become a midwife, but I have never felt like the medical side of birth was my calling. I’m emotional, and I’d rather support a woman than be caught up in the technical aspect of it.

The money isn’t always incredible, but I don’t have many bills to pay. Rhett left me his house after he died, and Mom and Dad gave me his life insurance policy, as well. I refused it for the longest time, but they didn’t need it, and after a year of fighting with them, I finally accepted it. I knew it’s what Rhett would have wanted, so I paid off the mortgage and invested the rest of the money. I do pretty well for myself, thanks to my brother, and I know he would love the fact that he’s still taking care of me even after he’s gone. I feel the familiar stab of pain in my chest as the tears sting my eyes. I look up to the sky, or the heavens, or wherever it is he ended up.

“I miss you, Rhett,” I whisper.

I hear my phone beep again and curse Hoss. I really wish I could just turn the bloody thing off, but I need to be available to Violet and my other clients. I groan and decide to climb out of my huge, comfy soaker tub. I grab a fluffy yellow towel and do my thing before reaching for my cell phone.

Angela – Sorry just seeing this now … I’m getting my hair done and mani/pedi … birthday present from Mom. U?

“Shit,” I curse out loud. I completely forgot about her birthday. She invited me to come out weeks ago.

Lana – Happy birthday Ange!! Just had a bath … things have been crazy here, too. My bff, Vi, had her baby boy
.

Hopefully that will explain my absence tonight.

Angela – Congrats! I remember U were excited for that. U still coming tonight?

I try and mentally pull myself out of the funk Hoss put me into. I mean, even though he completely embarrassed me, Alec still gave me his business card, right? He’s not totally lost to me. I just need to somehow muster up the courage to call him.

Lana – Wouldn’t miss it.

Angela – Meet us at Smash, 9pm!

Lana – See you then
.

I take a final spin in front of the mirror, and I have to admit, I’m pretty pleased with myself. My long black hair is pulled back in an explosion of curls pinned to the back of my head, with a few soft curls framing my face.

I’m wearing an azure form-fitting dress with a sweetheart neckline I purchased on sale weeks ago. I’m also wearing an abundance of jewelry—a chunky silver necklace and matching bracelets with a mini silver sparkly clutch my parents bought me for my last birthday. The best part, however, is my four-inch silver Manolo Blahnik strappy sandals. They’re a few seasons old now, but they still kick ass. They do incredible things for my legs. I also bought them at a killer price. Did I mention I love a good sale?