Page 2 of On the Rocks

Page 2

  Taking a deep breath, he says in a much calmer voice. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that either. This was a mistake. ”

  What? Mistake? No way.

  “It’s not a mistake,” I assure him and take a step closer. He takes a step back, which makes me even madder.

  I start to open my mouth to lay into him, when Wyatt calls out from the dark. “I found her, Hunter. ”

  Turning around, I see Wyatt walking into the glow of a streetlight, pulling Casey along behind him. She doesn’t look too happy, and neither does Wyatt.

  I feel Hunter take a step up behind me and lean down to whisper, “This was a mistake, Gabs. I’m forgetting it. So should you. ”

  Then Hunter is walking by me toward Casey. “Where the hell was she?” he asks Wyatt.

  Releasing Casey’s hand, Wyatt reaches out and claps Hunter on the shoulder, turning him back toward the car. “It’s all good, dude. She was just in the bathroom. ”

  The devious smile I see curling Casey’s lips upward tells me she was most definitely not in the bathroom and that Wyatt was covering for her. She grabs my hand and pulls me toward the car, opening the back door and pushing me in. She climbs in behind me, enclosing us in darkness. I can vaguely hear Wyatt and Hunter outside talking, and although I can’t hear the specifics, the calming tone of Wyatt’s voice tells me that he’s assuring Hunter that Casey is fine and all is right with the world.

  Casey grabs my hand and squeezes. “Holy shit, Gabby. Fucking Tim Miller had his hand down my pants when Wyatt caught us. I thought I’d die. ”

  Normally, I would raise my eyebrows over Casey’s sexcapades and give her a chastising glare. But I can’t even find it within myself to care enough right at this very moment. I’m still reeling from the hot kiss and cold smackdown I just underwent in the last five minutes.

  Of course, my failure to act like my normal self puts Casey’s bestie radar on full alert. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing,” I say hastily, and a little too loudly, although my mind is racing over the implications of what just happened between Hunter and me. It’s pressing down heavily that the feelings I have for him are most definitely not returned, and now… he probably thinks I’m a big whore of a person, too.

  “Bullshit, Gabriella Ward. Spill it,” she demands.

  I squeeze her hand reassuringly and even my voice out. “I’m fine. Just a little sick to my stomach is all. ”

  That’s all it takes… the prospect that I may barf, and Casey’s attention has been diverted. She reaches past me and rolls down the window. “There… you can throw up if you need to. I’ll hold your hair. ”

  It’s at this moment that Hunter opens the driver’s door, and the overhead light comes on. My eyes snap to his as he gets in, and he’s still wearing that look of disdain on his face. I’m not sure if it’s for me or for Casey, but it’s probably for both of us.

  Wyatt gets in on the other side but before they close the doors and the overhead light goes out, Hunter says, “Let’s get these girls dropped off, and head over to Salty’s. I’m supposed to meet Mindy over there. ”

  Hunter looks in the rearview mirror at me, maybe to gauge my reaction over the fact he just blatantly made it clear that I’ve been forgotten. He’s hooking up with the biggest slut in the Outer Banks, and he said it to make sure that I’m not disillusioned about how he feels.

  It’s weird… but just moments ago, my heart was filled with many warm feelings for Hunter. Love, care, friendship, desire.

  Now?

  It’s like ice, pushing out all of my gooey feelings and replacing them with bitterness and loathing. I’m so mad at him, and mad at myself for ever thinking there could be anything there. All those years I had fancied myself in love with him, I realize in one startling moment of clarity that I am the world’s biggest idiot, and Hunter Markham is the world’s biggest ass**le.

  As of this moment… he means nothing to me.

  1

  Present Day

  I pull into the parking lot of The Sandshark, an old, dilapidated building that sits on the Roanoke Sound just outside of Nags Head. I meet Casey and Alyssa here every Monday morning for breakfast. It’s been our tradition for the last two years since Alyssa moved permanently to the Outer Banks.

  Turning the ignition off, I wait patiently while my dad’s old ‘79 Ford truck grumbles and sputters, trying desperately for some reason to keep running even though I’ve cut it off. When it finally goes silent, a moment of sadness overwhelms me as I think of my dad. This weekend will mark the third anniversary of his passing, and I miss him just as much today as I did the day he died.

  Laying my head against the steering wheel, I take a deep breath and try to push away my sorrow. Today’s a big day. I’m going to put in a bid on a construction project that will, if accepted, put Ward Construction in the black and make me an honest-to-goodness, bona fide, general contractor. It’s what I’ve been seeking since I took over my dad’s business when he died.

  I never thought my life would end up here… with me running a construction business.

  The self-doubt and uncertainty plagues me daily, but I always remember my daddy telling me that I could do anything I set my mind to. When he died three years ago, I never thought twice about leaving college at the beginning of my senior year at Carolina and returning to the Outer Banks to take over his business. Mom thought I was crazy, but she supported me. I think she hated to see Ward Construction die along with my dad just as much as I did.

  I knew the business well enough. I’d been riding in this old truck to construction sites with him since I was old enough to walk. By the time I was fourteen, I was working every summer with my dad, laying sheetrock, pouring concrete, and learning custom carpentry from him. It never seemed odd to me… being a girl and doing a man’s job. I was a natural at it, and there wasn’t anything I couldn’t build or repair as long as it had a nail, screw, or joint holding it together.

  I’ve struggled the last three years, barely making ends meet. At first, I thought everything would be okay. Most of my dad’s work was on the commercial side, and some of his repeat customers didn’t have a qualm with hiring me whenever they had new projects. They had seen my work over the years and felt I was trustworthy. However, I wasn’t succeeding very well in landing new business. No doubt… the fact that I’m female and only twenty-three years old is a limiting factor. And it doesn’t seem to make a damn bit of difference that I have my general contractor’s license and can do the same quality work as others. I’m constantly struggling uphill to prove myself day in and day out.

  Yes, there isn’t a day that goes by where I don’t consider closing down Ward Construction and heading back to school to finish my degree in early childhood education. While being a teacher was my first love and passion, I have an equal passion for building things. I’m just not convinced that I can be very good at it in the long run.

  A horn honks beside me, and I turn my head to look out the window. Alyssa is sitting there in her own Ford truck, although it’s a tad bit newer than mine is. She shoots me a lopsided grin and a cutsie wave. I return her smile and get out of my vehicle.

  Alyssa greets me with a strong hug, which says a lot because she’s the tiniest thing. Barely topping five foot, she’s waif-like and delicate. She wears her light brown hair in a super-short pixie cut that makes her large brown eyes pop against her fair skin. She’s classically beautiful, sinfully rich, and the most down-to-earth, unassuming person you will ever meet in your life.

  It doesn’t matter that she inherited millions upon her twenty-first birthday, compliments of her being pharmaceutical royalty. Her grandfather founded a small drug company in the fifties that now has a position securely on the Fortune 500.

  Alyssa spent her summers on the Outer Banks with her socialite mother, while her absentee father stayed in New York perpetuating the family’s billions. She preferred to spend her nights over at my house or Casey’s, and shunned th
e designer clothes and fancy sports cars her parents bought her. She also shunned their desire for her to attend an Ivy League school, instead shocking the family by enrolling at UNC with Casey and me.

  Out of the three of us, she was the only one to graduate. Casey and I both dropped out. But rather than taking a seat on the family throne, she once again thumbed her nose and moved to Nags Head permanently, where she promptly put her inheritance to work by opening the islands’ only no-kill animal shelter, simply called The Haven. She funds it entirely and works tirelessly helping homeless and abused animals have a second chance at life.

  Alyssa has a halo permanently mounted over her head, and I only hope God remembers I try to live up to her impossible goodness when I’m knocking on Heaven’s door.

  “Ready for the big day?” she asks as she loops her arm through mine, and we walk through the front door of the restaurant.

  “As ready as I’ll ever be,” I tell her, immediately spotting Casey at our regular table as soon as we enter.

  I slide into the booth next to Casey. We fist bump, and then wiggle our fingers at each other. It’s our thing… ever since we were six years old. Alyssa sits opposite of us and pours herself a cup of coffee from the waiting carafe and empty mug sitting before her. Our waitress, Babs McAlvee, a permanent fixture here since we were kids, shoots us a wave and yells, “I’ll have your grub up in a flash. ”

  Yes, we come here so much… that the order was pretty much put in for us as soon as we arrived, no questions needed to be asked as to what we wanted.

  I pause to rake my gaze over Casey.

  “You look different today,” I muse. “What could it be?”

  Alyssa shoots me a grin, and I return it. Casey rolls her eyes at us and takes a sip of coffee.

  “Oh, I know,” I continue with a look of keen understanding. “You look like a newly employed woman. ”

  Casey lifts her chin, shooting a haughty look down her nose at me. “I am indeed employed. First day on the job at Dunes Realty. ”

  Alyssa holds up her coffee cup, and we all clink our mugs together. “Here’s to Casey… the best damn realtor that coastal North Carolina will ever see. ”

  “Here, here,” I agree, and we all start giggling.

  Casey has drifted from job to job since dropping out of college. She was the first, lasting barely a year before she flunked out, too intent on partying and not intent enough on studying. She’ll tell you until she’s blue in the face that she was just homesick, or that she just didn’t like college, but the truth of the matter is… Casey has just been so lost since Brody got sent to prison five years ago.

  It was only on the prospect of him getting paroled that she decided to buckle down and try to stick with something. That something ended up being a career in real estate… although, I didn’t bother to tell her that the market sucked. I was just happy she was excited about something.

  Today was her first day on the job, and she looked beautiful in a navy blue suit that may have shown a bit too much leg and more than enough cle**age, but she looked professional and sophisticated. Casey Markham has to be the most beautiful woman I’ve ever known. She would put a Victoria’s Secret model to shame, and there’s not a man that gets within her vicinity that doesn’t have his tongue hanging out of his mouth.

  She’s classic… long, blonde hair hanging in loose waves to mid-back, cornflower blue eyes, and the face of an angel. She also has a slammin’ body that is usually encased in a bikini in the warmer months, causing perpetual hard-ons up and down the east coast.

  “I’ve actually got an appointment this afternoon with some English dude that wants to buy oceanfront. He sounded incredibly pompous on the phone, but hey… his money’s just as good as the next. ”