Chapter 4

Julie had been sitting at her computer for over an hour. Her yoga class with the Marines started in just a few days, and she needed to do a little more research to prepare.

After pulling up Google and typing in a few keywords related to Marines and stress, she’d found several sites devoted to yoga and PTSD, even a couple specifically talking about the benefits of yoga for soldiers returning home from war. The reading was fascinating, and if she didn’t have plans to go out with the girls tonight, she’d probably fall asleep sitting right here with her reading glasses on and a half-eaten bar of chocolate by her side. Margaritas with her sister, Kat, and their friend Val were in order, though. She’d made baby steps toward securing her life in Seaside, but she still had miles to go. She needed advice, and a paying job in the meantime. The nest egg she’d saved since college had helped, but it was almost gone.

Julie glanced at the bills she’d pulled from her mailbox earlier. Unopened bills that she didn’t want to think about right now. Instead, she headed to her room in the back of the house and pulled open her closet to survey her wardrobe. After trying on and discarding several skirts and dresses, she squeezed into a pair of tight jeans that complemented a fitted knit shirt and checked her image in the mirror. She’d forgotten how much work went into being single.

She stared at her reflection. Not bad. Yoga helped maintain her figure and the push-up bra she was wearing helped showcase what she had going on upstairs. Tonight was about hanging out with the girls, though. Not attracting the opposite sex. Lawson crossed her mind again, and she wondered if he’d be out tonight. If they were going to the bar that Kat’s husband, Micah, liked to go to, then it was also the bar that Lawson might be at. Why should she care, though? She didn’t, she decided, inspecting her reflection one last time. Slipping her feet into a pair of high heels to top off the look, she headed toward the front of the house just as the doorbell rang.

Kat and Val greeted her as she opened the door. Kat was dressed in a fitted black dress. Val sported an ensemble similar to Julie’s, except her top sparkled and screamed sass, which was fitting for the smart-mouthed brunette.

“You look great,” Kat said. “Ready to go?”

“So ready.” Julie grabbed her purse and locked up behind her.

A few minutes later all three walked into Heroes, a local bar that catered to the town’s military. There was dim lighting inside and easygoing music that didn’t compete with the lively cacophony of conversation coming from all directions. Along the walls hung military memorabilia: a helmet, a few uniforms, medals that the bar’s owner had been awarded during his service. They headed to a table in the back and ordered a pitcher of margaritas, then began catching up on the details of each other’s lives.

“I was sick three mornings in a row,” Kat said, halfway through her first drink. “I would’ve bet money that I was pregnant.”

Val and Julie frowned at their newly married friend. “Maybe the test was wrong,” Julie suggested.

Kat shook her head. “No, I took three. And I got my period last night.” She took another sip.

“It’ll happen,” Val said. “And you should just savor the first year of marriage without trying to have a child, anyway. You’re in the honeymoon period. Enjoy it.”

Julie nodded. “True. Although I have to admit, I can’t wait to be an aunt.”

“You’re already a step-aunt,” Kat reminded her. Kat’s new husband had a fourth-grade son from a previous marriage.

“I know, and Ben is an amazing nephew.” Julie lifted her glass to her mouth, and then froze as she saw two men enter Heroes and head to the bar.

“What’s wrong?” Val asked, following her gaze. “Oo-la-la.” Her lips puckered down. “Wait, isn’t that Micah’s friend, Lawson?” she asked, turning to Kat.

Kat nodded. “Yep. And that’s Griffin with him. He’s a friend of Micah’s, too.”

Julie was still staring. “I had a run-in with Lawson the other day.” She looked between the girls. “I saw him at the Veterans’ Center and he completely ruined my interview.” She left out the part where she’d treated him like a leper. Guilt spiraled inside her chest. She’d already apologized for that, though, and he’d accepted. Then she’d bailed on him as quickly as possible at the café this morning.

“He ruined your interview?” Kat asked, confused.

Julie lifted a shoulder. “Not intentionally, of course. He just showed up as I was talking to Allison and startled me while I was doing Downward Dog.” Julie met Kat’s and Val’s confused faces. “Don’t ask. I started to fall, he caught me. Then my car wouldn’t start and he insisted on taking a look and following me home.”

Kat and Val grinned at her.

“What?” she asked, her defense rising at their expressions. “It wasn’t like that. It was completely innocent.” Except for the way her body had reacted to his hands on her hips when she’d been in the Downward-Facing Dog position. That hadn’t been innocent. Neither had her thoughts about him since.

“I think he’s single,” Kat told her.

“No, no, no. He’s nice, but…” She shook her head. “After breaking up with Daren, I’m not ready for anything serious just yet.”

“It’s been a year,” Kat reminded her.

Julie sipped her drink and shook her head. “It’s not been a full year yet. And what does that matter?”

Kat tilted her head. “Maybe it’s time to start testing the waters.”

“It doesn’t have to be anything serious,” Val added. “You just got out of a long relationship. All you need is a good roll in between the sheets. Or a roll in the hay, in Lawson’s case. I love cowboys.” She sighed, glancing over her shoulder at him.

“Don’t let Preacher Hunt hear you talk like that,” Kat warned.

Val rolled her eyes. “Daddy knows I’m a sinner. He has the women’s and men’s prayer groups praying for me.” She took another sip of her drink. “I say you do him.”

“Do him?” Julie lowered her head a notch. “What, are we still in high school?” She shook her head. “Anyway, I got the job despite all that. The only glitch is that it involves me working for free.”

Kat and Val stared at her.

“I know. Not ideal. But it’s only temporary. I just have to prove to Mr. Banks that my program is worth keeping. That it’s worthwhile.”

“Mr. Leroy Banks?” Val asked, shaking her head. “I tried to convince him that his suit was navy blue and not black once when I worked in the Men’s Clothing Shop on Front Street. You can’t convince that man of anything. Good luck.”

Julie frowned, wishing she hadn’t been given that piece of information.

“Tough maybe, but not impossible,” Kat said. “Any leads on something that actually pays until this becomes more…prosperous?”

Julie shook her head. “The Chow Bucket needs someone to dress up like a chicken and hold a sign outside.”

Her friend and sister continued to stare at her, and she laughed. “Don’t worry. I’m not that desperate.” She ran her finger around the rim of her glass. “Yet.”

“Well, if you need a reference, I’ll vouch for you,” Kat said.

Julie sipped her drink. “You’re my sister. You’re biased.”

“Do you really want to do the chicken dance for a living?” Kat asked.

Julie shook her head and all three women laughed.

As they did, both men at the table across the room looked over. They were joined by Kat’s husband, Micah, now. He waved and, if Julie wasn’t mistaken, her sister’s cheeks darkened a shade.

“Oh, to be in love,” Julie said wistfully.

“You’ll have that one day, too.” Kat lifted her half-full glass. The glass was always half-full when it came to her sister—Mrs. Optimistic. “Here’s to love and paying jobs, whichever comes first.”

“Now that’s a toast I can drink to,” Val snickered.

“Me, too.” Although, in Julie’s case, she hoped the job came first.

They tapped their glasses together. As they did, Julie’s gaze wandered back to Lawson, who just so happened to also be looking at her.

Lawson spotted Julie as soon as he’d walked in the door. The Lawson he’d been before his last deployment would already be over there, making moves on the willowy blonde, buying her drinks and formulating a way to take her home tonight.

He wasn’t looking for a good time these days, though—not that kind anyway. What he could really use was a stiff drink and a nice, long sleep that didn’t end in a cold sweat.

“What’ll you have?” the waitress asked him, looking at him through her eyelashes. Her flirting wasn’t lost on him.

“Just a Coke,” he said, fighting the urge to ask for a shot of vodka, or two or three. He’d tried that when he’d arrived home from Afghanistan. It hadn’t helped, and had only turned him into a jackass. It also made for painful headaches the next morning.

His buddy Griffin stared at him.

“What?”

“You’ve turned down advances from two women since we’ve walked in. And you’re drinking Coke. I’m worried.”

Lawson slid a glance in his direction. “Don’t be.”

“You’re not fooling anyone, bro.” Griffin accepted a beer from the waitress, who also slid a soda in front of Lawson.

“Here you go, sweetheart,” she said, batting those long, black lashes at him again. Yeah, back in the day he’d have asked for her number.

“I’m fine,” he told his friend.

“You’re full of shit is what you are.” Griffin suppressed a grin and took a swig of his brewski. “We’re fellow Marines. That makes us brothers. And brothers look out for each other.”

Lawson rolled his eyes. “Would it ease your mind if I were drinking too much and sleeping around with loose women?”

Griffin considered this. “That is what you did before. So yeah. That would make me feel like all was well in the world.”

Lawson couldn’t argue that point. “I’m fine,” he said again, turning to steal another glance at Julie. As much as he’d tried, he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her. Even if she’d made it very clear how she felt about sharing space with him. This morning she’d practically run out of the café without finishing her breakfast.

“Send her a drink,” Griffin suggested, knocking his elbow into Lawson’s upper arm on the table.

Lawson didn’t feel the need to respond. Instead, he diverted the attention away from him and nodded at Micah, who sat across from them. “How’s married life?”

“Amazing,” Micah supplied, leaning back in his chair. Like a lovesick puppy, he couldn’t take his eyes off his new wife across the room. Lawson wanted to find it disgusting, but he was happy for his friend.

“That’s great,” he said. Micah deserved to be happy, deserved the best things that life had to offer.

He, on the other hand, didn’t. That’s the way he felt at least.

“I hate to put a damper on things, guys, but Bill Johnson has his sights on Melanie Harris from the diner.” Griffin tipped his head across the room.

All three men turned to look at the tall, muscular man with blond, buzzed hair. He was with a woman that the men lovingly referred to as Stalker Mel. She tended to latch on to any guy who gave her half a second of attention and then, coincidentally, or not, seemed to show up everywhere that guy went for the next month.

“Who wants to stop Stalker Mel from being this guy’s latest victim?” Griffin asked, his jaw clenched tight and his eyes stony.

“Depends on which one of us wants to be the object of Mel’s stalkerish affections for the next year.” Micah shook his head. “I’m married now. Kat won’t like Mel coming around.”

Griffin held up his hands. “Not it,” he called. “I was it last time. The woman scares me a little.”

Micah and Griffin both looked at Lawson.

Tag, I’m it.

“Fine.” Lawson pushed up from his seat. “But you guys watch my back. If BJ so much as looks at me wrong, I’m likely to drag him outside.” And that would be another strike against him with his commander.

“You got it,” both guys chimed.

Lawson nodded, turned, and started walking toward BJ and Mel’s escalating flirtation. He’d seen how BJ operated. BJ was a good-looking guy that women seemed to fall all over themselves for, just like Mel was doing right now. He peppered them with compliments and bought them drinks to their heart’s content. Then he brought them home. More like carried them home because after he got them drunk, they could barely stand. They were incapable of walking, driving, or consenting to whatever BJ did with them once they left. Mel drove pretty much every single guy in town insane, but she didn’t deserve the likes of BJ. No one did.

“I thought I told you I didn’t want to see you talking to another woman in this place, Johnson.” Lawson folded his arms in front of his chest.

“And I told you where you could go,” Johnson said, not bothering to look up.

Lawson shook his head. “I’d hate to have to tell your friend here how you treat women. She might just take that drink you bought her and splash it in your face.” And boy, what he wouldn’t give to see that.

Mel giggled as if he’d told a joke. This wasn’t a joke. Messing with BJ was serious. His behavior bordered on illegal, in Lawson’s mind. Especially if Johnson was slipping anything extra in the women’s drinks, which Lawson had a hunch he might be.

“Are you guys fighting over me?” Mel asked, obviously tipsy already. Tipsy and delusional.

The waitress stepped up and set another drink on the table. “Here’s your drink,” she said, looking at BJ. The dirtbag’s eyes grazed over her.

“Yum!” Mel started to lift the glass.

Lawson took it out of her hand. “Sorry, but I think you’re done here. Why don’t you let me take you home?”

Mel’s eyes lit up, and she nearly spilled onto the floor as she jumped up. BJ pulled her back toward him, his voice smooth but his eyes chilly.

“The lady’s with me. Go get your own woman, Phillips. And get the hell out of my face.”

Well, shit.

Lawson glanced back at the guys who’d promised to keep him out of trouble. They didn’t appear to be paying attention. Which was a pity. Damn shame. Lawson smiled. His fists curled. Screw the consequences. This was going to feel good.

“Why don’t you come with me outside?” Lawson took a step forward. Then someone’s hand grabbed him from behind.

“Hey, there, buddy.” Griffin’s smooth, easygoing voice floated over his shoulder. Griffin stepped up beside him, keeping his hand anchored on Lawson’s shoulder. “Hey, Mel,” he said.

Mel grinned, but her gaze was locked on Lawson. At least she wasn’t draped on BJ anymore.

“Not you, too,” BJ huffed. “Come on, baby. Let’s get out of here.” He wrapped his arm around Mel’s waist, but she shook her head.

“No, I think I’ll stay.” She winked at Lawson. Great. Just great. Chivalry had its consequences. It either earned him enemies, as in Julie’s case, or stalkers, as in Mel’s.

“Actually, I called you a cab, Mel,” Griffin said. “It should be here any minute. I’ll walk you outside and wait with you.”

Before she could argue, Griffin gently took her arm and started charming her all the way to the door. Lawson would have to thank Griff for that later.

“You’re an asshole,” Lawson said, turning back to BJ. “I mean it. Stay out of here.”

BJ lifted his beer to his mouth, casting Lawson what was supposed to be a fuck-you look. His hand shook, though. Good.

Heading back to his table, where Micah was still seated, Lawson tried to collect himself. He’d been itching for a fight, but he was glad he hadn’t done anything he’d regret in the morning. Or in Dr. Pierce’s office at his next appointment. Not that BJ didn’t deserve an ass beating. He sure as hell did. And hopefully someone somewhere would give it to him one of these days. That guy couldn’t be Lawson, though. Not with the watchful eye of his commander on him, waiting for him to implode.

He glanced over at Julie’s table again. He was itching to do another thing he might regret in the morning, like heading over and asking her to show him those yoga moves she’d been doing the other day. Another very bad idea. He was full of those tonight.

Julie had stopped having fun an hour ago when her buzz had worn off. The feeling had only gone downhill when she’d watched Lawson pick a fight with another guy over a pretty brunette. He hadn’t been flirting with her exactly, not that she’d care if he had. But he’d looked protective of her, like he wanted to chew the young Marine up and spitball him to the other side of the earth. And something about that left her unsettled.

Val and Kat giggled across the table. They were toasted in the best kind of way.

“I’m going to call a cab home, girls,” Julie said, shifting and getting up.

“No!” Kat protested, but Julie raised a hand.

“No arguments. You’re still having fun and I’m not ruining it. I’m leaving, you’re staying. It’s final.”

“You’re pushy, you know that?” Kat said, feigning a pout.

It was supposed to be a criticism, but Julie took it as a compliment. After three years of being controlled by Daren, she was proud of being called pushy. She flashed her cellphone at her friends. “The reception in here is awful. You two have rides, right?”

“Micah,” Kat said. “Love you. Call you tomorrow.”

“Okay.” Julie waved and headed outside, gulping in the fresh salt air. She stared at her cellphone screen and began to sidestep around, looking for the best reception to call a cab.

“The dance floor is inside.”

Julie froze. She knew that deep voice, smooth and Southern. At least she hadn’t jumped this time. Turning, she forced a smile. “Hey. I was just, uh, looking for a signal on my phone.” She held it up to show him.

Lawson stepped closer. “I needed some fresh air.”

“That, too.” She returned her focus to her phone. She stepped left, then right, took a few more steps away from Lawson, pretending the poor reception was leading her. In truth, she just needed distance between herself and him. There was a charge in the air when he was around, and happily single or not, she wasn’t immune to his good looks.

“Here.” Lawson handed her his phone. “Mine is picking up better.”

She looked up. That was her first mistake. Those eyes of his were liquid aphrodisiacs. “Thanks.” She dialed the number she knew by heart: 455-RIDE. Back in the day she’d called a cab from this very bar more times than she cared to admit. “Hi. I’d like a cab,” she said when the receptionist picked up.

Lawson pulled the phone from her hand and clicked the CALL END button.

“What—?” Her mouth fell open as she looked at him. “But you said I could use your phone.”

“And you can.” He shoved it back in his pocket. “If you need to. But you don’t need to. I’ll drive you home.”

Julie shook her head, unsure whether to be mad or amused. “You are determined to give me a ride this week, aren’t you?”

Lawson grinned.

“What?” she asked, grinning back.

“Nothing. It’s just, the old Lawson would have a response for that.”

“The old Lawson?” She crossed her arms under her chest, meeting his gaze.

“The less mature version of myself,” he supplied.

Julie’s mouth kicked up in one corner. She didn’t want to enjoy the exchange she was having with Lawson Phillips right now, but she was. “Let’s hear it.”

“Save a horse,” Lawson said. His brows lifted, letting her put the rest together.

Julie’s mouth dropped again. “I can’t believe you just said that.”

“I didn’t. I didn’t finish it.” Lawson jingled his keys. “Ride a cowboy.” He cleared his throat. “Sorry. What I meant to say was ride with a cowboy.”

Julie laughed. It felt good to laugh. “Fine. Thank you.”

He led her to his truck and opened the passenger-side door for her. “You’re welcome.”

She stepped inside and he shut the door after her. She waited for him to get behind the wheel. “Are you able to drive? I mean, have you had too much to drink?”

Lawson glanced over. “I don’t get drunk anymore. That was the old Lawson, too.” He cranked the engine and reversed his truck.

Julie folded her hands in her lap. “Why not?” she asked, already guessing. People didn’t just stop drinking unless there was a problem. She tallied that on the list of reasons not to be attracted to Lawson. She’d already dated one man with a substance abuse problem. She didn’t intend to date another.

“I like being in control of what I say and do. I got tired of making a fool of myself. I drink one or two every now and then, but that’s it.”

Julie nodded. People with true problems couldn’t stop at one or two. It was all or nothing. The tally mark moved to the reasons why Lawson wasn’t such a bad guy after all. “I see. So, how’s work?” she asked, looking for a neutral topic.

Lawson glanced over. From the look on his face, he didn’t like her conversation starter. “Could be better,” he said.

She could relate to that. “The Chow Bucket needs a person to dress up as a chicken if you need a job.”

He glanced over again, this time amusement playing in his blue eyes.

“But you’re a Marine, so that’s irrelevant.” She rubbed her sweaty palms on her thigh.

His gaze flicked down before returning to the road. “Do I make you nervous, Julie?” he asked.

“No.” She shook her head.

“I think you might be telling a little fib.” He smiled and the air between them charged even more.

Thank God they were only five minutes from her house. She could handle five minutes. She hoped. “Crowded bars make me nervous,” she explained. “It seemed like everyone in Seaside was at Heroes tonight. And it’s not even a weekend.”

“They all must be having the same kind of week.”

“Bad week?” she asked, knowing she probably shouldn’t. He was turning into her driveway and she didn’t want to extend their time together. The truth was, he did make her nervous.

“You could say that.” Lawson parked.

“What happened?”

He shook his head, turning to look at her. There was something sad in his eyes; it made her want to reach out and touch him. That could be dangerous, though, because the tension between them was thick.

“Nothing I can’t handle,” he said.

Julie reached for the door handle, begging herself to pull it and just walk away. “When I have a bad day, I do some breathing exercises and yoga. It helps.”

Lawson raised a brow; his lips pulled into a small smile. “Thanks for the advice.”

Julie nodded. “Anytime. See you around.” Then she pushed the door open and hopped out, exhaling as she put distance between herself and Lawson. She needed to do some breathing exercises of her own to slow her racing heart and collect her unruly thoughts, because right now she was in favor of saving a horse. Her hormones were all but holding picket signs to save all the horses in Seaside.

Unlocking her front door, she turned and offered a small wave. Then she slipped inside and exhaled sharply. She had to stop running into Lawson. She’d forgotten the probability of running into someone you didn’t want to see in a small town. She’d just have to start avoiding the local attractions. Until her attraction to him fizzled.