Returning Your Love (Pippen Creek #1)

2. Chaz

Chapter 2

Chaz

“ J esus, Chaz—where the hell have you been? You’re even later than you normally are.” Shelly’s voice grated on my exhausted nerves as I walked in the door after work.

“I had to finish up Mr. Bernard’s truck. He’s leaving for a cross-country trip in a couple of days,” I explained, tossing my keys onto the small table in the entryway. “He’s headed to Arizona now that he’s finally retired.”

My wife stood at the doorway to the kitchen in all her fiery redheaded glory, hands on her trim hips, gray eyes narrowed. She clearly did not give two shits about my old football coach finally fulfilling his lifelong dream. “Did you forget about the welcome home party?”

I hadn’t forgotten—I just wasn’t sure I was ready to face who would be there. “I’m tired, Shell.”

She shook her head while throwing her hands into the air with her usual dramatic flair. “We never go out. Ever! Our best friend finally gets his ass back where he belongs, and you don’t give a shit?”

“He’s ignored me— us —for over four years,” I grumbled, remembering the day we’d last seen Jamie. It had been at our wedding, and I hadn’t even gotten a chance to hug him and tell him goodbye before he’d left the reception long before it had ended. He’d taken off like he’d been desperate to escape Pippen Creek and everyone who lived here, leaving my heart split in two. “What makes you think he’s still interested in being our friend now?”

“Can’t remember hearing about you reaching out to him the last couple of years either,” she stated rather than answering. She spun and stalked into the kitchen.

I followed my wife, needing a beer from the fridge before showering. Shelly spoke the truth, but?—

“I swear to God, I’ve never met a more selfish man.” She all but spat the words I’d heard countless times in the previous year since I’d purchased the mechanic shop in Pippen Creek. “All you do is work, Chaz. You’re never home!”

“Because I’m trying to build a business so we don’t need both of our incomes to cover the bills!” I shot back, my blood pressure rising.

It was bad enough I’d been denied a loan from the bank and had to go to my father for financing. Henderson Auto was the only one of its kind downtown, and still I struggled to make ends meet and payments on time. Father always reminded me when I didn’t even when Mother suggested he offer his only son some grace.

Like that would happen anytime soon.

“I’ve only ever wanted one thing from you, Charles Henderson. One!” Shelly turned stormy eyes on me, arms crossed.

“Don’t start, Shell,” I warned, yanking open the fridge door as my stomach twisted into knots. “Fuck knows we’ve been trying for years !”

“And if you had a normal job that offered insurance, we could figure out whose fault it is that I’m not pregnant!”

Fucking hell.

She’d spouted her disapproval of my decision to take over the shop after working there since high school but never to this extent. Dragging my failure to give Shelly her stay-at-home mom dream into this argument? Was she trying to cause a heart attack or make me want to jump off a goddamned bridge?

We’d been happy enough in the beginning. No fire or crazy passion but a calm, shared existence I thought I could be content with for the rest of my life.

Now?

I’d be fine if I winked out of existence, my failings unable to haunt my every waking breath.

I popped the cap off my bottle of beer and chugged until my lungs screamed for oxygen. A spin on my heel sent me toward the bathroom, but no way would I escape reality so easily.

I fucking bombed at everything, whether it was living up to my dad’s standards, getting good grades in school, bringing in enough money on my own and paying my bills on time, or keeping my supposed other half happy…

Shelly continued to rant about those vows I’d made to love and honor her, blah, blah, blah. And she called me selfish for working too hard—to provide for her, goddamnit! Shelly had always been an outspoken, determined woman dead set on getting what she wanted, and while I’d been attracted to that part of her personality when we’d still been in school, I’d learned the hard way she was as easily pleased as my father. Which was not at all, no matter what I did or how much I tried.

Lately, I’d been questioning if I’d made a mistake in marrying her.

I closed the bathroom door in my wife’s face, locking it so she wouldn’t follow me in and gripe at me while I showered.

Part of the reason I wasn’t quick to come home at night was due to her constant nagging and complaining. The woman drove me to drink, but I wasn’t about to become a drunk and add marriage to my list of failures for my dad to remind me of when I was forced to visit my childhood home across town.

I started the shower and hummed to myself while stripping to drown out the grumbling still going on out in the hallway.

Shelly pounded on the door when I chose not to respond.

“Leave me the fuck alone!” I finally raised my voice to her level. “Let me shower, and we’ll go to the party, okay?” I kicked off my shoes. “Jesus Christ,” I muttered to myself. “What does a man have to do to get some goddamn peace and quiet in his own home?”

“You’ve got five minutes!” Shelly yelled. “I hate being late!”

I huffed. The only time she did was when it was her period, but even that had changed because disappointment always followed a delayed menstrual cycle. Too much lack of success in getting pregnant had made her give up hope and left me with a limp cock that wasn’t interested in donating sperm even if she asked for it.

Which, she hadn’t done for months.

Intimacy had shit the bed when I’d found her sitting on the bathroom floor earlier that spring, pregnancy test in hand and tears rolling down her cheeks over yet another negative result. She’d made sure to remind me it was my fault, same as the prior thirty or so other months we hadn’t conceived. She hadn’t told me when she ovulated since then, and I couldn’t be bothered to initiate.

Didn’t want to deal with even more guilt over failing her yet again.

Shelly and I seemed doomed, and I didn’t know how to make shit better. Nothing I ever did created a positive change, and I was exhausted physically and emotionally.

The shower rid my body of sweat, grease, and grime, but my thoughts still felt shitty, all jammed up by her usual unwelcome home and the truth of why lay ahead of us tonight.

Jamie Forester had returned to Pippen Creek.

My heart sped even as my stomach twisted into a tight knot over secret, selfish thankfulness he’d come back years earlier than expected.

Once upon a time, Jamie, Shelly, and I had been three peas in a pod. Inseparable. The best of friends who did everything together. Hell, Jamie had even tagged along on a lot of Shelly’s and my dates in high school. Senior year, he attended prom with us as Shelly’s “side dish.” We’d gotten teased over it by others in school, and I often wondered after he’d left town how many people had expected us to end up in a poly relationship.

As a secret pansexual, I would have been down for that back then. Jamie, however, was as rednecked, jock-like, man’s man as they came. While he’d never shown much interest in girls, Shelly especially, I’d assumed it was due to football being his focus and ticket out of the backwoods of northern New Hampshire.

I never understood why he felt he had to make a name for himself. His dad Sutton, the chief of police in our small town, had a great reputation and was admired. Respected, even by those he had to toss into a cell to sleep off their drunkenness. Jamie’s mom showing her true colors as a piece of trash when we were in middle school hadn’t stained him. Not sure Jamie saw shit that way though.

I expected he hated being here again, and while I was nervous about his return, I was glad.

Too glad.

Talk about an asshole best friend or whatever we were to each other now. I supposed time would tell, but my lack of patience and conflicting desires had turned my insides into an absolute mess.

Shelly gave me space to quickly get dressed, so I got a few seconds to breathe without interference. I swore her heated glare singed me through the walls separating us though. Her toes tapped loudly on the cracked tile entryway, her agitation thick in the air.

Marriage had started out easy enough for us. Sure, we butted heads like every other couple in existence, but a lot of issues had snuck in since we’d exchanged vows four years ago. Distance weaseled between us, and if not for her bitching and fighting for more, I’d think she would be ready to move on as I sometimes wished I could.

But I wouldn’t quit. Refused to. Fuck that shit, because I couldn’t mess up something else for my dad to harp on, and how the hell would my bills get paid without the additional income?

I’d promised Shelly the family she’d always wanted since she had no one but her mother, who was in a long-term care facility, suffering from severe dementia. I’d been lucky enough to convince Shelly we had to wait for marriage to even try. Not saying we didn’t have sex back in high school. Just kept my cock under wraps because I’d refused to be a teenage dad. At twenty-four, we still had plenty of time even though her mom didn’t, and I thought that more than anything weighed heavy on her mind.

“Let’s go !” Shelly grumbled from down the hallway, and I ran a hand through my wet hair.

Scruff lined my usually shaven jaw, and purplish bags lay under my eyes, but depression did shit to a man, made him not care a whole hell of a lot about his appearance. Lips pressed tight, I exited our bedroom and heard exactly what I expected the second I rounded the corner.

“You’re wearing that ?”

I ignored Shelly, grabbed my keys again, and headed out the door. She hated my ripped jeans and plain T-shirts with the stretched-out collars, but it was what I felt most relaxed in, and fuck knew I’d need every level of comfort I could for what awaited us downtown.

Shelly muttered nonstop from behind me, but I did my best to pretend she didn’t exist. Shitty of me, but I’d had enough of her bull tonight. Needed something to look forward to, goddamnit. Excitement. A rush of adrenaline. Brightness in my dull, depressing existence.

Jamie’s smile used to light me up from the inside out, and that gorgeous grin of his made encouraging words about everything being okay unnecessary. His presence had been all I’d needed. Would seeing him again cause my stomach to flutter? Settle the unrest in my head like his proximity had done before he abandoned us for bigger and better things?

Huffing, Shelly buckled up her seatbelt, and I caught a sniff of her flowery perfume—and whiskey.

My brow furrowed as I cast a glare at her. “Seriously, Shell? You started already?”

“Shut up,” she muttered, riffling through her purse for who the fuck knew what. Probably that plumping lip gloss that made her lips puff up like a porn star’s. Used to get me hard.

Not anymore.

I backed out of our driveway and took off up the road fast enough that the tires chirped.

Teeth clenched, I fought to swallow down words that would only cause another argument, one we’d had countless times in the past couple of months. The newest reason I wasn’t super excited to get my wife pregnant was because her disappointment in me had led to her drinking hard liquor almost every night since our last failed attempt. Couldn’t trust a woman who was more interested in drowning her sorrows than agreeing to counseling.

She didn’t need a therapist, Shelly had stated with a sneer, just that baby I’d been promising her since high school.

Should have kept my mouth shut on seeking help for our marriage and setting myself up for yet another failure.

Fuck, I hated that word.

I released a slow, steady exhale, focusing on easing the tension in my shoulders and stomach. Getting my emotions set straight became a priority because I was about to be confronted with the one man I’d been desperate to forget but couldn’t no matter how hard I tried.

Memories played in my mind as they often did of all the good times the three of us had together. The laughter. Adventures. Camping out by Pippen Creek Pond, eating s’mores until we were all sick to our stomachs. Skinny-dipping beneath slivers of moon in a star-dotted sky while I hid my lust for Jamie’s perfect body. Drinking cheap strawberry wine we’d managed to sneak from the city south of our small town. The three of us piling up inside a two-man tent, snuggling like a litter of kittens before passing out.

Maybe, just maybe , Jamie’s return would be a good thing.

Then I remembered waking with boners that were more than mere morning wood, pressing against my best friend’s leg even though Shelly had been between us when we’d gone to bed. We’d camped out together three nights, and during each of them, I’d unknowingly clung to Jamie in sleep. Thank fuck he hadn’t woken up before I’d snuck away before sunrise. I might have left the temptation of him all three mornings, but the draw, the longing for more than friendship with my straight best friend…

Nope. Shut that shit down.

I’d made my bed and had no choice but to lay in it.

Jamie, I expected, had a different woman under him every night after accomplishing his goal of making it into the NFL. Career ending too early by an injury or not, the man could have anyone he wanted and probably had more notches on his bedpost than I did checks marks on my weekly to-do list.

I had no business thinking about him in that way. I was married. Owned a struggling business, which needed my full focus. Had responsibilities far beyond daydreams and fantasies of him returning home and declaring, “I’ve been gay this whole time and love you more than Shelly ever could.”

Yeah, that shit only happened in the movies, and I didn’t deserve a happy ride into the sunset after what I’d done, not done, and had fantasized over.

“Why are you parking all the way back here?” Shelly muttered yet another complaint.

Leave it to my wife to question every goddamned thing I did.

Ignoring her, I slammed the truck into park at the back of the lot and threw open my door.

She continued to bitch beneath her breath about the long walk to Frenchie’s entrance.

Secrets aside, I needed to keep my heart out of whatever type of friendship Jamie and I ended up hopefully rekindling after his absence. No way in hell I could handle more stress in my life.