It wasn’t strictly a sexual thing either. Hell, he could handle that, even if it made him crazy and turned on more often than he cared to be. No, the really damnable part was how fucking in love he was with her. Other than Bram, there wasn’t anyone in this world that he felt as close to as he did Lacey. Unlike his two best friends, he hadn’t been raised in a traditional household. An abusive dad forced him to run away from home at a young age. Child protective services had stepped in and shuttled him off to various foster parents until an estranged uncle took him in when he was ten. Life became relatively normal after that, but it wasn’t until he met Bram and Lacey that he truly felt a part of a family. Their family. Yeah, it was probably weird to look at his two best friends in that light, but so be it. Becoming business partners and going in together on the purchase of the Dockside cemented their bond as the three amigos. The only possible way his life could be happier was if Lacey’s heart belonged to him.
He might ache for something more, but he’d have to be content with her friendship. Even if it was all he’d ever have, he was still a damn lucky man to have that much. Yeah, Dan was a fool for destroying his future with Lacey. And all for a silicone-enhanced, easy lay. The reminder of the fucktard brought Ry’s thoughts back to Lacey’s recent meltdown. He hugged her close again and massaged the nape of her neck. “It’s only been a year, baby. Plenty of folks need more time than that to heal.”
“Sure, if they’re grieving the loss of someone.”
“Do…do you miss Dan?” Please God, let her say no. The idea of Lacey still carrying a torch for that asshole sat like an elephant on Ry’s chest.
Lacey’s face scrunched in an adorable way. “Absolutely not. He had his chance and blew it.”
My sentiments exactly. Frankly, he’d never thought Dan was good enough for her to begin with. Sure, the guy seemed decent at first glance, but there’d always been something that rubbed Ry the wrong way. He’d originally thought it was his jealousy over Dan having unfettered access to Lacey’s bed and her heart. Two things that should rightfully belong to Ry, damn it. But once the news of Dan’s unfaithfulness spread, Ry had figured out what had been poking at the edges of his conscience regarding Dan. The guy had never looked at Lacey with the light of love shining from his eyes, or like he’d die tomorrow if she were ever taken away from him. Even when he’d been getting his ass kicked by Ry and Bram, Dan hadn’t once stopped his pathetic whining to ask if Lacey was okay and somehow surviving the heartache he’d put her through. That was just wrong in Ry’s book. A man didn’t put the woman he loved through that kind of pain and turmoil. He was supposed to cherish her. Beat to a pulp anyone who dared to hurt her.
Lacey stepped away from him again and fidgeted with the charm bracelet hooked around her right wrist. It was a gift he and Bram had given her several Christmases ago. Every year they tried to outdo each other coming up with the perfect charm to add to the collection. Bram got the biggest ooh and ah last year by popping for a sterling-silver turtle with emerald chips inset into its shell. Damn dickhead. This Christmas Ry would have to pull out all the stops if he didn’t want to get left in the dust.
Lacey stopped her fussing and offered them both a hesitant glance. “It isn’t so much about Dan as the possibility that I’ve…lost my mojo. If I even had it in the first place.”
He blinked at her. “What are you talking about?”
She swallowed, the muscles in her throat working. “M-maybe Olivia has a point. About me being boring.”
It took more willpower than he swore he possessed not to punch a hole in the wall. Or yank Lacey into his arms and slam his mouth over hers, proving without words precisely how damn ridiculous Olivia’s statement had been. “Baby, no way in hell are you the slightest bit boring.”
“You’re my friend. You’re supposed to say that.” She dropped her hands with a resigned exhale.
“No, I’m saying it because it’s true.”
She gave him her patented stare that always let him know when she thought he was being deliberately obtuse or stubborn. “I think we all know that I’ll never be mistaken for a stripper.”
Oh Jesus. Is that what this was about? “Please tell me you’re not comparing yourself to a stripper right now,” he growled, furious that Lacey’s confidence had been undermined to that degree.
“No. I know I’m not…sexy like that.”
He and Bram coughed at the same time, but Bram was the first to recover his voice. “Lace, you are.”
She rolled her eyes. “Hello. Did you not hear what I said about the friend thing?”
“Just because we’re friends doesn’t mean I don’t find you sexy.” There was no mistaking the slight huskiness underlying Bram’s confession.
Lacey’s cheeks turned pink and she averted her eyes. “Bram, please. We’ve all seen the women you’ve dated. They could be supermodels.” Her lips twitched into a mischievous smile. Just the sight of it was enough to give Ry wood. “Make that supermodel strippers in the case of Stalkerella Olivia. Regardless, I’m nowhere near their league.”
“Yeah, you’re miles beyond it,” Bram pointed out adamantly. “In another universe, practically.”
Ry couldn’t agree with him more. Lacey returned to Bram and stood on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. Ry tried not to let the jealousy eat at him.
“You’re a good friend,” Lacey whispered to Bram before dropping back onto her heels. She glanced over at Ry. “You both are.”
Oh yeah? So how come he didn’t get a goddamn kiss? He sent the obnoxiously grinning Bram a mulish glare as Lacey paced between them.
“But the truth is I can’t keep leaning on you guys to boost my sagging confidence. If I want to reclaim my mojo, I’m going to have to suck it up and…” taking a deep breath, she took several steps back and faced them both, “…jump into the dating pool.”
Ry could feel his heart knocking in an erratic rhythm. Lacey…dating? Someone other than him? He’d barely survived her engagement to Dan. How the fuck would he get through this? Without consciously thinking about it, he turned his stare on Bram. His best friend wore the same panicked look.
Fuck yeah. They were both screwed.
Chapter Three
By the time she finally dragged herself home, Lacey was dead on her feet. She plunked her purse onto the front end table and shrugged from her down-filled jacket. After hanging the garment in the closet, she rolled her shoulders, attempting to work out the kinks. A glass of wine sounded spectacular at the moment. Precisely what she needed to help her relax and wind down for the night.
She slipped off her suede snow boots and left them to dry near the heat register before traipsing into the kitchen. She poured the Pinot noir into her glass and took a sip, her gaze traveling to the stark landscape on the other side of the window. The snow-capped frozen surface of Lake Saint Clair resembled a glittering, crystallized desert. The barrenness of a Michigan winter never failed to depress her and make her long for the summer months, when the lakes were sparkling and sailboats and freighters bobbed in the distant waves.