“I’m pretty good, thanks. How ’bout y’all?” I ask.
“We’re great, thanks. We just found out that Alice is pregnant again, so life is perfect,” Granger says, his lips spread into a wide grin.
“Again?” I blurt before I can stop myself.
“I can’t help it. I love seeing my wife growing our children,” Granger admits, spreading his hand over Alice’s flat stomach.
“I keep forgetting how crazy you Barnetts are over kids. You’re going to have to move to a bigger house if you all keep going at this rate.”
“We have plenty of land, so we can keep extending until we’re done having kids,” Granger says, waving away my comment.
“Hey, guys, can I get you anything?” the server asks, placing my iced tea in front of me, before turning to Granger and Alice.
“Can we get a meatball sub and a tuna and Swiss, please?” Granger says, not even glancing at Alice before he orders for them both.
“Any drinks?”
“A ginger ale and a water, please.”
“Okay, I’ll bring those drinks right out for you,” the server says before she leaves.
Unable to resist, I look at Alice, wondering if she’s going to say anything about the way Granger just took over and ordered for her, but instead of looking annoyed, her expression is serene.
Alice is by far the quietest member of the Barnett clan. I can’t remember hearing her speak more than a handful of times. But to be honest, I don’t think I’ve ever seen her without Granger. The two of them are attached at the hip, moving as one entity, not two separate people. A sudden and unexpected pang of envy pools low in my stomach. I’m not longing for Alice, but for the togetherness she and Granger have never tried to hide. Even now, Alice is as close to Granger as she can get without sitting in her husband’s lap. Now that I think about it, that’s where she’s usually seated—curled up within his arms, usually with one or both of their kids with them.
I don’t have that. I’ve never had anyone who wanted me as viscerally as Alice and Granger want each other. My last handful of relationships have ended quickly and sourly because the women I’ve picked haven’t wanted what I wanted. I’m not a Barnett. I’ve never tried to marry a woman I met three hours earlier, but my last two exes have run for the hills the moment I even talked about a future with them.
Though I might not be ready for it just yet, ultimately, I want a home, a wife, and a life that’s about more than just me and work, and yet the women I’ve had relationships with have all been more interested in their friends, their social media following, and their own lives away from me.
Seeing Granger and Alice together reminds me that if other people get to have what I want, then it must be possible, and someone out there will want it with me too.
“You guys look happy,” I say, wishing I’d kept quiet the moment the words were out there.
“We are,” Alice says, her voice low but clear and full of honesty.
All of our food comes at the same time, and we fall into a comfortable silence as I watch Granger arrange Alice’s food first, making sure she has everything she needs before he even glances at his own plate. When she barely eats half of her sub, he abandons his own sandwich, his eyes feral with concern as he places his palm on her stomach and cups her cheek with the other, completely attentive to her needs and wants.
I’ve never seen a man so in tune with his woman, and another surge of envy bubbles to life inside of me. I want that. I want to have a woman to take care of, to love and protect and call my own. The moment I think it, a memory of Verity jumps into my thoughts. Before I saw her this morning, settling down with a wife wasn’t even on my radar, but could she be that person for me?
My inner cynic scoffs, but a louder voice dares me to wonder if she could be the one. If the reason I’m so drawn to her is because of this town or the mystical shit that seems to be at play here has landed on me, and the reason I’ve become so instantly obsessed with her is because she’s meant to be mine.
“Hey, this may seem a little strange, but have either of you met a woman called Verity?” I ask.
FOUR
VERITY
“Oh, my god,” I whisper to myself as I watch the huge guy stride off down the trail and away from the parking lot.
After working at a strip club for over a year, I’ve seen every kind of man. The skinny, angry ones. The giant, disgusted ones. Guys dressed in thousand-dollar suits who barter over the price of a lap dance, then demand extras as compensation when whoever was grinding in their lap got oil or glitter or makeup on their designer clothes.
I’ve seen the dirty old men who actually wanted me to be a child and the lonely ones, who don’t care that we were taking our clothes off. They just don’t want to be alone. Then there were the guys who enjoy degrading us for our jobs but can’t keep away, their disgusting desires stronger than their will to resist.
I’ve seen them all, but he was different.
Not physically different. Beefed-up gym bunnies who’ve shot up so many steroids they can’t get it up anymore were a dime-a-dozen at BJ’s. But he didn’t give off that kind of frustrated energy.
His chest and arms were enormous, but he looked fit too, like he was strong for a reason. And not just because he likes the way it looks. Like me, he’d been wearing a ball cap, but I could see his short dark hair poking out from the sides and back. His skin was a warm tan color that looked like it was from genetics and not just the sun or a bottle.
