Maisey Yates - Tough Luck Hero

Everything was right where she wanted it to be. Organized exactly the way it made sense to her. She didn’t have to compromise. Didn’t have to modify herself to be different for anyone. Didn’t have to contort so that she wouldn’t be in the way.

Darn it, she liked having her own space. Needed it, even. And maybe she was being really, really dramatic about the fact that she was going to be sharing a house with somebody for a couple of months. Maybe.

“It’s a vacation,” she muttered, picking up her various items. “A vacation on a ranch. With a surly roommate that will maybe cook breakfast?”

She walked out of the bathroom, back into the bedroom, where Colton was still standing in the doorway, his arms crossed over his broad chest.

“I thought you came in to help me.”

“You didn’t give me a directive. Did you want me to just aimlessly go through your things and try to decide what you needed?”

She made a scoffing noise in the back of her throat. “Obviously not.”

Silence stretched between them, along with a thick band of tension that seemed to wrap itself around her, more specifically, her throat. She found it difficult to breathe all of a sudden. For some reason, the air seemed to reduce around them. For some reason, she was unbearably conscious of the scent of the soap that he used, and just how familiar it was.

It was a reminder. A reminder that—whether she remembered it or not—she had absolutely smelled it on his skin before. Her brain didn’t remember, but right now, her body seemed to.

“Do you have a food processor?” she asked, because talking about food processors seemed as good a method as any for diffusing the unwanted crackle of tension in the room.

“Of course.”

“There’s no of course about that. A lot of men wouldn’t have one.”

“Well, I have a housekeeper. She cooks a lot of my food.”

Lydia’s eyebrows shot up. “A housekeeper?”

“You feel a little less victimized now, don’t you?”

“No. Thoroughly victimized.” She added as many clothes as she could to her bag, followed by shoes.

“It isn’t like you can’t come back to the house. You can make vague noises about how you intend to rent it out if anyone asks. But we’ll never get around to it.”

“You know, I hear some people live in cities, where nobody knows their name, or pays attention to what they’re doing.”

The corner of his mouth curved upward. “What must that be like?”

“I don’t know. Do you have a juicer? Because I juice.” She had juiced twice. Once right after she had bought the juicer, and another time when her pants had refused to zip after the holidays last year. But then, she had just bought new pants because juice with kale in it was an abomination.

Colton treated her to a baleful look. “Nobody juices.”

She scoffed. “Well, okay, I don’t do it every day. But I do stop at the store on the way to work and buy a bottle of juice sometimes.”

“Do you?” he asked, his tone rife with skepticism.

“I mean, I don’t always have time to stop on the way to work. But I do stop at the store on the way home. For a bottle. Of wine. But it’s almost grape juice.”

“I have wine, and several corkscrews. So why don’t you just leave your juicer here.”

She wanted to run through a list of yet more appliances that she would probably never use in his house, because she wanted to do something to delay the inevitable.

“Did you get Natalie’s things out of your house?” she asked.

“I paid some movers to come by this morning and take care of it. I think they took it back to her parents’ house.”

“Is that where she is?”

“You know, I didn’t make it my mission to figure out where the woman who left me at the altar was. But, seeing as she’s your friend, you might know.”

Lydia swallowed. “I didn’t exactly think she would want to hear from the bridesmaid who ended up marrying the groom.”

He laughed. “Coward.”

“So are you.”

“No, I just don’t think she’s my problem anymore. That woman is a project. And I did my very best to make her happy.”

Lydia should not feel at all like she had to defend her friend. Natalie had abandoned Colton at the altar. Not only that, the relationship between the two of them had been borderline toxic during the planning of the wedding. The only reason that Lydia had continued to be involved was for appearances. Which was what her entire life was beginning to feel like it came down to.

Still, Natalie had been the first friend she had made in Copper Ridge. And things might have been rocky in the ensuing years, but she still didn’t think that Colton had a right to act like he had no stake in what had happened. Natalie cared more about appearances than Lydia did. Possibly more than Lydia and Colton combined.

“Right. You had nothing to do with her running out on the wedding.”

“I told you, I was totally shocked.”

“Totally. Completely. There were no indicators that things were perhaps not completely healthy?”

“I didn’t know. If I’d known I would not have submitted to standing up in front of the entire town with my dick in my hand.”

Heat flooded her face, which was stupid, because he was being crass on purpose, and not talking about his actual...that. Still, it forced her mind there. And that, in combination with the scent of the soap, was a little too real.

“Fine. I’m just saying. It’s clear to me the relationship wasn’t perfect. And I sincerely doubt that she’s the only one at fault here.”

“Oh, are you a relationship expert? Does that mean that this marriage is getting in the way of a close, intimate relationship you’re in?”

She shot him her deadliest glare. “Yes. The relationship I hold most dear. The one I share with my personal space.”

“Well, as the more experienced party, I’ll just say this. There is no justification for leaving someone at the altar.”

“Did you cheat on her?” She didn’t know what was driving her just now, why she wanted to push him. But then, that was kind of the story of her entire history with Colton. From the moment they had been introduced they had pushed each other’s buttons. And that didn’t happen to her. Everyone liked her. She was diplomatic by nature. It was one reason she was going into politics.

More than that, she just liked people.

But him, she didn’t like. She just hadn’t. Not from the first moment they had been introduced. They had been at Ace’s, and Natalie had been chomping at the bit to introduce Lydia to the man she had been dating for a couple of months. It was serious, according to Natalie, so it was time to see if he passed the friend test.

She could remember it clearly because she’d had such a visceral, intense reaction to the sight of him. Like a hand had wrapped itself around her spinal cord, squeezing hard, tension climbing up from that point and up to the base of her neck.

“This is my boyfriend, Colton West.” Natalie smiled like she was holding a winning lottery ticket.

Lydia knew the name Colton West. Everyone in Copper Ridge did. But she’d never met him before. And she hadn’t realized he was quite so good-looking.

Lydia stuck out her hand and he grasped it tightly. Immediate discomfort rolled over her like a wave and she let go of him, taking a step back.

“I’m Lydia,” she said. “Nice to meet you.”

Her throat felt scratchy and dry and she felt uncertain. Insecure. She never felt uncertain or insecure.

The corners of his mouth had turned up slightly before flatlining again. “You too.”

She attempted conversation with him all night, only to have every topic killed after a couple of one word answers.