Fisher's Light(82)

I turn my head to face him in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

Trip pushes himself up from the step and flicks me on the head. “Pull this thing out of your rear end and go find out.”

He turns and walks into the house without another word.



I stand off to the side of all the people lying on blankets and sitting on chairs around small beach fires, waiting for the fireworks to begin. This was a stupid idea, a really stupid idea. So far, I’ve had no less than ten people ask me if I heard what happened to Lucy after the game. Why do these people think I want to rehash that shit? Do they think I don’t give a shit about her and wouldn’t care that she gave up on us and moved on with someone else? When I put on a fake smile and nod at them, they start laughing and tell me how “f*cking awesome” it was. Clearly, this town really hasn’t forgiven me for the crap I pulled last year and now they want to torture me.

Figuring there’s no point in sticking around and cursing Trip for making me curious enough to come down to this damn beach, I start to leave when I see Lucy making her way down the beach towards me, dodging blankets and chairs and barely glancing at the people who call out to her. She’s looking right at me as she moves and suddenly I’m frozen in place, staring at her.

She’s wearing a pale yellow, strapless sundress that hugs her torso and flows out around her hips, the hem hitting her mid-thigh. Her hair is curled in soft waves and is hanging loose around her shoulders. She looks like a warrior going into battle as she skirts around the fires and the light from the flames flickers across her face. I’m so mesmerized by how gorgeous she looks that I momentarily forget she’s wearing another man’s ring on her finger and she’s given the heart that once belonged to me to someone else.

My feet are rooted in place in the sand as she makes her way towards me, my eyes locked to hers like I’m in a f*cking trance. She finally stops right in front of me and an ocean breeze flutters through her hair, blasting the smell of her skin right into my face. My knees go weak and I shake myself out of my daze, remembering how pissed I am at her.

“I hear congratulations are in order,” I tell her sarcastically.

“Screw. You,” she replies, crossing her arms in front of her and cocking her hip to the side, almost like she’s gearing up for battle.

I smirk just to piss her off, crossing my own arms and silently wishing she didn’t look so f*cking hot throwing attitude at me.

“Awww, thanks for the offer, sweetheart, but I’m pretty sure you have someone else to do that job for you now.”

A muscle ticks in her jaw as she clenches her teeth. I know I’m being a dick, but I can’t help it.

“You are such an *,” she growls.

She f*cking GROWLS at me and my dick wakes up and takes notice. Why in the hell does her attitude turn me on so much? It’s almost like the anger I’ve worked so damn hard to contain for the last year transferred over to Lucy while I was gone. While I’m doing my best not to completely lose it with her, she doesn’t give a shit. She’s letting her rage flow right through her and apparently has no qualms about directing it at me.

Which only makes me want to f*ck it all right out of her.

“Well, you don’t have to worry about dealing with this * anymore. You’ll be married to a new one soon enough,” I tell her in a calm voice, even though my emotions are raging out of control.

I want to yell.

I want to argue.

I want to pick her up, toss her over my shoulder and drag her ass back to my cave like a Neanderthal where I can remind her exactly who the f*ck she belongs to.

Mine, Goddammit!

Feeling the familiar rage boiling just beneath the surface, I take a deep breath, tamp down the caveman bullshit and settle, once again, on snark. “Did you come down here to show me your ring, Luce?” I ask, emphasizing the horrible f*cking nickname I’d heard Shit-for-Brains-Ford call her. What kind of * doesn’t realize exactly how that sounds?

She uncrosses her arms, throws them up in the air in frustration and makes a noise that’s somewhere between a scream and a snarl. “Why are you so f*cking infuriating? Maybe if you’d stuck around a little longer this afternoon instead of running away like a damn child who didn’t want to share his toys, you would have seen me throw that stupid engagement ring at Stanford’s face!”

I open my mouth in shock and try to speak, but all that comes out are a few unintelligible, stuttered syllables. She doesn’t even give me time to make sense of what she just told me before she’s off on another tirade.