The Promise of More: The Home Series, Book Three Read online

  Chapter Three

  Miller

  Cappy and I walk along the streets of my momentary home in a comfortable silence until we get to the bay. We hit a pier, passing people of all different ages with poles in the water, waiting for something to give them a tug. When we get to the end of the wooden pier and reach a round, two-story building, he pulls a set of keys out of his pocket and unlocks a heavy wooden door, gesturing for me to go in ahead of him.

  As he starts turning on lights behind the bar, a rush of movement catches my eye from the rear of the room. A tiny, dark haired woman comes flying out the back, screeching, a toddler in tow.

  “Where have you been? I know it’s hard to believe, but I do have to work to look like this, Cap. I have a hair appointment today, and Andi has to be at the bookstore soon. You said you could watch Charley.” She whips the section of the bar up that’s hinged and thrusts the kid into Cappy’s arms. “I need to get out of here. I’ll come get her from you lat-”

  She stops talking as soon as she locks eyes with me. “What did you bring us, Cappy? I’ll forgive you for being late if this is your way of apologizing.”

  She props herself up on her elbows, rests her chin in her hands, and blatantly checks me out. I guess she’s not in such a hurry after all. I can only imagine what I look like after my run. I’m sure my own black hair is an unruly mess, and I can’t remember the last time I bothered putting a razor to my face.

  “Simmer down, Celeste. This is Miller. He’s new in town. Try not to scare him off.”

  Her eyes skim up and down my sweaty body once more. “Oh, I won’t.” She looks towards the back and screams, “Andi, I’m leaving. Cappy’s here.” She smacks Cappy on the ass, kisses the kid on the cheek, and walks out the door.

  Andi appears from the back, and is not at all what I was expecting. My assumption was that this Andi person was Celeste’s boyfriend or husband, not the gorgeous woman that’s walking towards me. She has auburn hair that’s tumbling down her arms in a wild mess, gray-green eyes the color of the moss that hangs from the trees back home, and a golden glow to her skin that’s a complete contradiction to her striking reddish-brown hair. My heartbeat picks up again, the rhythm matching the pace it takes during a hard run. She runs her hand through her wild hair and my heart misses a beat.

  She has a wide gold wedding band shining on her left ring finger.

  Her steps falter a bit when she notices me sitting on one of the barstools, but she quickly recovers and walks behind the bar to Cappy and the little girl he’s holding.

  “Sorry Celeste flipped out. I’ve still got a few minutes before I have to leave for work.” She looks back towards me and checks me out, but more out of curiosity than out of lust, like the other girl just did.

  “Who’s that, Cappy?” She doesn’t sound too impressed, or too interested in the answer.

  I answer, even though she didn’t ask me.

  “Miller Ashby,” I say, sticking out my hand in her direction. I wait for her to reciprocate, but she doesn’t. She just looks at me.

  Cappy shoots her a look. It’s one I’ve seen from my own parents many times before, mostly when I’m being a disappointment to them.

  “This is my daughter-in-law, Andi Bankston. And this,” he says, turning the toddler around to face me, “is my granddaughter, Charley.”

  “Nice to meet you both,” I say. I give them the most charming smile I can muster, but get nothing in return.

  “I gotta go,” Andi tells her father-in-law. “I’ll be back tonight for my shift here. Celeste will come by and pick up Charley after her hair appointment. I’ve already fed her lunch, so she should be ready to nap soon.”

  She takes her daughter from him, gives her a quick hug and a kiss, gives her back, and breezes through the door. She leaves an intoxicating scent in her wake.

  “What’s your poison?” Cappy asks, setting the little girl with the same wild hair as her mother on the floor to walk around. She hobbles over towards the back of the bar where there are some toys scattered around that I didn’t notice before. She must spend a lot of time here while this place is closed.

  “Anything you’ve got on tap is fine,” I say. He grabs a glass for each of us and pulls two drafts, setting them down and coming around the opposite side of the bar to join me.

  “I take it this is your place,” I say.

  He nods and puts his pilsner down. “I bought it when we moved here from California a few years back. I had just retired from the Navy and needed something to keep me busy, keep my mind occupied. Celeste and Andi help me run it.”

  It’s a small place, with the long bar taking up most of the wall space. Leather wrapped bar stools line the bar. It’s an eclectic mix of stools with no rhyme or reason. Some have backs and some don’t. There are tables scattered along the edges of the worn dance floor, an old juke box housed in the corner. A set of stairs leads upstairs, but it’s roped off. I’m guessing Cappy’s office is up there.

  “This feels like the place where I bartended back home.”

  “And where’s home?”

  “Baton Rouge.”

  “Is that where that call was from that made you pitch your phone across the park earlier?”

  Now it’s my turn to nod. I don’t want to say anything more. He’s getting a little too personal and I don’t want to pour my heart out to this stranger.

  We finish our beers in relative silence. I thank him for the drink and get up to leave.

  “You should come back tonight when there are actually customers in here, not just a boring old man, my moody daughter-in-law, and her crazy ass best friend. You know, get a feel for the people of this town.”

  “Maybe,” I tell him. “Thanks again, Cappy.”

  I decide to stay in for the night. You know, that vow I made to change my ways. After a while, though, the need for a drink and a woman gets to be too much to handle, and I find myself dressed and out the door. I’m not in any hurry as I make my way down the streets of the town, taking in the sights and sounds of my temporary home. No one else seems to be in much of a hurry, either. It’s refreshing.

  The Shipyard, Cappy’s bar, isn’t very far from the hotel where I’m staying. I pull the solid wooden door open and although I’m in the same place as earlier, the scene is quite a bit different. Gone is the toddler ambling around looking for toys. Instead, adults teetering about with drinks in hand have replaced her. There’s an extensive mix of ages in here. The music filtering through the juke box is classic rock. I’m guessing by the ages in here, though, it changes depending on who’s pushing quarters into the machine.

  I make my way to the bar and park my ass on a leather wrapped stool. Those two vastly different women I met earlier are both working tonight. Cappy said they’re best friends. They look like complete opposites, and based on my short interactions with them, act like it, too. I sit for a few minutes, not bothering with trying to get their attention, just watching them work. My focus is drawn to the red head, though. She’s stunning. I’ve never seen anyone that looks quite like her.

  “Miller Ashby,” I hear from my left. I turn my head and the little pixie of a woman, Celeste, is leaning over the bar, practically purring. She may be pixie-like in size, but she looks like a bad ass. She looks like a little fairy that doesn’t take any shit and could kick your ass if necessary.

  “Celeste, right?”

  “Yes, sir. What can I get you, besides that?” she asks, tilting her head towards her best friend, who’s not paying any attention to what’s happening at this end of the bar. “She’s not on the menu.”

  “Oh, I wasn’t-” I start to say, but I don’t finish my sentence. I was checking her out. I’m not gonna lie. But the wedding ring is like a flashing neon sign.

  She’s off-limits.

  So am I.

  I just find her a bit intriguing.

  I run my fingers through my thick black hair. “Woodford, neat.”

  “Bourbon, huh? Wasn’t expecting that, college
boy.”

  I take the glass from her and down half the glass, letting the liquid slide down my throat and do its job, numbing my brain. I instantly feel better.

  I lift my eyes from the weathered bar top, ready for another two fingers of bourbon, but Celeste isn’t back there anymore. Andi glances my way a few times but won’t walk down here to get me another drink. There must be a really dirty spot on her end of the bar. She’s wiping down the wood like the fate of the world depends on it.

  Finally, I get off my stool and walk over there, glass in hand, and plop down on the stool directly in front of her.

  “What’s a man gotta do to get a drink around here, Red?”

  Her eyes snap up, fire lighting them up. “Don’t ever call me that again.”

  She’s trembling. A look that I’ve seen on my own face one too many times lately crosses hers. She quickly shuts it down and looks back to me, calmer this time.

  “What are you drinking?”

  “Woodford.”

  She pours it, puts it down in front of me, and never speaks again. Celeste takes care of me for the rest of the night.

  After that second drink, I switch to beer. I only have a few, which I just sip on. Celeste and I engage in idle conversation. When we are comfortable around each other and Andi’s not around, I ask her why Andi got so pissed earlier when I called her ‘Red’. Celeste tells me that it’s what her husband calls her, and quickly changes the subject.

  As the night winds down, the bar empties out. I’m one of the last customers to leave. Celeste heads out pretty early, leaving Andi alone to close up. When it’s time to shut it down, I pay my tab and leave the bar, lingering on the pier, enjoying my cigarette before I start on my walk home. I stare out at the still darkness of the water, wishing some of the calmness could invade my mind. The drinks I had tonight didn’t serve the purpose I intended. As I make my way down the pier and step onto the street to begin my journey back to the hotel, I hear some colorful words coming from a raspy, familiar voice, who’s currently got her head under the hood of an old Jeep. All I can see is a curvy, denim-clad ass and long legs sticking out the front of the hood.

  “Need some help?” I ask, startling her and causing her to jump. “Shit. Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. What’s wrong?”

  She sighs and straightens up. “I don’t know. This damn thing won’t start. I’m not sure why I’m even looking under here. I have no idea what I’m looking for.”

  “Here,” I say. “Let me look at it. I know a thing or two about Jeeps.”

  As I think about the countless hours I spent under the hood of one with Thomas, the drinks I consumed tonight threaten to come up. I push those thoughts aside and try to focus on Andi.

  “No,” Andi says. “It’s fine. I’m just gonna leave it here. I don’t live very far. I usually walk here, anyway. I just happened to be in this thing before work tonight and drove it over.”

  I look at her like she’s crazy. “You walk home from here every night? At two o’clock in the morning?” She nods. “And your husband’s okay with this?”

  If looks could kill…

  “Which way is home?” I ask her. Again with the look. “I’m not a stalker, Andi. I just can’t let you walk home alone in the middle of the night. I wouldn’t feel right. I’d never forgive myself if something happened to you.”

  She huffs, pushing that wild hair off her face. “It’s just a few blocks that way,” she says, pointing in the opposite direction I’m headed. Still, I’m not letting her walk home alone.

  “Well, that’s where I was going anyway. I’ll walk you.”

  We take off, but she makes no attempt to speak. I light a cigarette to give myself something to do. I don’t like the silence, the awkwardness between us. I certainly don’t know why it’s bothering me…I shouldn’t really care.

  “You shouldn’t do that,” she says, that spark coming back in her eyes.

  “I do a lot of things I shouldn’t.”

  “I’m serious. Those things will kill you.”

  “So will walking home alone at two in the morning,” I tell her, giving her a look to rival the one she’s aiming my way.

  That shuts her up. It also pisses her off. The heat is practically radiating off her skin. I don’t even get to finish my smoke before we’re at her front door. I throw the butt on the street and walk her to the porch of the quaint little cottage style house. While she’s digging her keys from her purse, she thanks me for seeing her home.

  “Thanks for walking me. It was unnecessary, but nice.”

  “Anytime, Andi. I’ll see you around.”

  She nods and turns the knob to go inside.

  Celeste is at the door when it opens.

  “Well, what a pleasant surprise,” she says. “Andi, you didn’t tell me we were having company. I would have made myself a little more presentable.”

  She’s seriously standing in the entryway of the house in her underwear and a tiny white tank that leaves very little to the imagination. It looks like she borrowed it from Andi’s daughter.

  “We’re not having company. He walked me home because my Jeep wouldn’t start.”

  “Do you want to come in and have a nightcap?”

  Andi rolls her eyes while simultaneously trying to push her friend back into the house.

  “Umm, no, I need to get home.”

  “Big day tomorrow?” Celeste asks.

  “No, just a long day today.”

  “Maybe another time then. Bye, Miller,” she calls as I’m turning away from the house.

  “Bye, ladies.”

  I hear Celeste say something to Andi about the last time a man brought her home from a bar, to which Andi quickly tells her to shut up.

  I shake my head, a little confused by both this situation and these two women.

  Chapter Four

  Andi- Four Years Ago

  Certainly this isn’t the brightest idea I’ve ever had. I have a huge test in the morning and I’m pretty sure I’m wasted. I knew I should have told Celeste no, but I have zero willpower. I agreed to two beers, but we never stop at just two beers. I don’t even know why we bother saying it anymore. It’s such a joke.

  I push out of the bathroom, desperate to find my best friend and get out of here when I hit a wall. The wall has arms and they come out and steady me. I move my neck up, waaay up, so I can see who just grabbed me and I let out a sharp breath. I feel like I just got sucker-punched in the stomach.

  “What’s your name?” I breathe out, mesmerized.

  “Charlie.”

  “Charlie what?” I ask, needing to know his last name like I need to take my next breath.

  “What do you need that for?” he asks back, giving me a strange look, I’m sure because of my unnecessary interrogation.

  “Because I’m gonna marry you. I need to know what my new last name will be.”

  He starts laughing. It’s a deep, beautiful sound that sends shivers through my whole body.

  “How much have you had to drink, Red?”

  I hold my thumb and index finger a millimeter apart and squint my eyes at my future husband.

  “Just a tiny bit.”

  He’s smiling and shaking his head. His face takes on a boyish quality that’s such a paradox to his hard muscles that my other hand is still clinging to.

  “It’s true. I’m going to marry you.” I stop to think this over for a split second. “Oh, but I don’t really cook. I’ll clean and have babies, though. So what’s your last name?”

  He laughs again, but I notice he still hasn’t let go of me either. He mustn’t think I’m a total whack job. “Bankston.”

  “Andi Bankston,” I sigh, more to myself than to him. “That’ll work.”

  “You’re mighty sure of yourself, Andi soon-to-be Bankston,” he says.

  I just shrug. “You should come to the bar with me so you can buy me a beer.”

  “I can do that.”

  His arms move from the top of my arms to my wais
t. He moves my body in front of his and guides me to the bar. His hands are searing the flesh underneath my shirt. I’m almost panting, just from his hands on my waist. I want them all over my body.

  I hear cat calls and whistles coming from a table of his buddies by the bar. He boxes me in at the bar and signals for the bartender to bring us two more beers. The closer his body gets to mine, the louder his friends get.

  “Are your friends mad because you’re over here with me?” I ask him, staring into his chocolate brown eyes.

  “Those dicks are just jealous.”

  I look over at them, noticing they all have the same body builds, military haircuts, and tired, but excited looks on their faces.

  “Navy?” I ask. You can’t spit without hitting a sailor around here.

  “SEALS. Just finished SQT this week.”

  “Kind of impressive,” I tell him, trying to act like that’s no big deal. Charlie grins at me and shakes his head at my indifference towards the fact that he just finished SEAL Qualification Training. Being from San Diego and growing up so close to Coronado, I know that these guys are total bad asses. You’ve gotta be to make it through BUD/s and SQT. These men go through some of the most mentally and physically rigorous training in the world to do what they do. Only about two hundred men out of one thousand successfully complete the training.

  “So, what’s next?” I ask, sipping my beer simply to give me something to do. I hope he’s not leaving. I don’t know what happens next, but I hope he’s staying put in California for a while. I know it’s either that or Virginia.

  Please, God, let him be staying here.

  “Lucky for you, my team’s staying here to train,” he tells me, winking. “Might put a strain on our marriage if I had to leave town so soon after meeting you.”

  I roll my eyes and take another sip of my beer, but he keeps talking. “What about you, Red? What do you do?”

  “I’m in school. San Diego State. In fact, I have a huge test tomorrow.” I glance around the bar, looking for Celeste. I finally spot her in the corner, sucking face with some stranger.