Meant to Be

Can first love get a second chance?

A decade ago Lawson Potter would have said his life after high school was paved into the future with hope and love. That future crashed down around him the day after graduation following a run-in with his girlfriend’s father. Faced with a secret threat and targeted by a racial hatred so strong he had no choice but to flee Browning for the Marine Corps, but he never stopped loving the red-headed girl he’d left behind.

Veterinarian Heather James is stubborn, spunky, smart, and still hopelessly in love with her lifelong best friend, Law. By high school graduation they had their lives planned out, a plan that included college, careers, marriage, and babies. Lawson’s abrupt departure for the Marine’s was a shock she never anticipated. After a decade of rebuilding her broken heart, she struggled with the idea of forgiving him, but she never stopped loving him either.

Now that Lawson is back in Browning and working as a conservation officer, he’s doing his best to stay away from Heather. With close mutual friends, she is impossible to avoid, and every moment spent together ends in argument or painful longing. It doesn’t help that they’re frequently paired as partners for search and rescue missions with Heather’s trained bloodhound, Frank.

To Heather, it seems that Law is always around to witness her foolishness and tears, and to keep her out of trouble. In a low moment when her pride is wounded, Heather decides to start dating and resolves to keep Lawson at arm’s length. It’s a decision that sets off a chain of events that threatens her safety…and finally pushes Lawson over the edge. He knows that to regain her trust he’ll have to confess his reason for leaving, but doing so could damage her relationship with her family and put him in danger again.

This time he’s not going to walk away without a fight.

Chapter 1

Dr. Heather James, DVM, stepped inside the dimly lit Teddy’s Bar and glanced around for her friends. Spotting them at a couple of pushed together tables along one side, she headed their way. She was excited to see Myla and Sheriff Tucker Armstrong, newly married and just back from their honeymoon. Also at the table was Jace Richardson with his flavor of the week. They were sure to be entertaining. Her gaze rested on the two empty seats and paused. She wished now she’d brought a date. Her only thought tonight had been to have a fun night out with her friends; it hadn’t occurred to her when she agreed to come that she’d be the only one without a date.

Read an excerpt

Myla spotted her and waved. Too late to back out now. Damn. She pasted on a smile and headed for the seat next to Tucker. Myla immediately switched seats with her husband so they wouldn’t have to talk over him. She tugged Heather in for a hug while Tucker signaled the waitress to take her drink order.

“We’ve got pizza and other fried things on the way.” Myla told her when the waitress left.

Heather laughed. “Fried things?”

Myla tipped her head toward Jace. “You know, fries, onion rings, mozzarella sticks.”

“Ah. Jace’s four food groups.”

“Right.” Myla laughed too.

“So fill me in. How was your trip?”

While Myla and Tucker shared stories from their trip to the Canadian Rockies, Heather felt a presence behind her and the table went quiet. He was here.

She hadn’t seen Law since Myla and Tucker’s reception, where champagne, emotions, and nostalgia had gotten the better of her. She’d been vulnerable and had made a horrible fool of herself in front of him. For nearly two weeks she’d managed to avoid every circumstance that would have brought them into contact. Why hadn’t it occurred to her that he’d also be here tonight?

Heather felt the start of a panic attack. She couldn’t deal with him tonight. Not this soon. She shoved back from the table, and without looking behind her, she mumbled “Excuse me” to Myla and fled to the bathroom.

She locked herself in the corner stall and leaned back against the cold tile wall. She whispered to herself. “He has a right to be here, Red. These are his friends, too.” Just like you have a right to avoid him.

Heather took a couple of slow deep breaths, waiting for the awful rush of adrenaline to subside. There were no windows in the bathroom. If she wanted to leave it would have to be through the front door. In full sight of everyone.

She’d be running away. Law had done it. Why couldn’t she? She dismissed that tempting thought. She’d never been one to back down from difficulty. Not difficulty, you’d be protecting yourself. Heather shook her head even though she was alone in the stall. No, she wasn’t going to leave. She wasn’t going to act like a hurt, lovesick fool tonight, either. As Law had devastatingly reminded her at the reception, they were grown adults now. She should have recovered from their adolescent obsession years ago.

It was time to act like it.

Heather checked her appearance in the mirror, smoothed her red hair and re-entered the bar. She was about to do the best acting of her life.

Her seat was taken when she returned to the table. Law was sitting in one of the chairs and an attractive brunette she’d seen around before had taken the other seat. Heather avoided eye contact as she approached, but she knew Lawson stood when she reached their group.

“Hey Red.”

Dammit. She could feel him looking at her. She willed her fair skin not to blush, but she knew everyone was expecting her to answer. After all, he was still a part of their group. She managed a nod, sweeping her gaze around the table, skipping over Law and his date. Her friends’ expressions ranged from knowing to sympathetic, and suddenly she couldn’t take it. She laughed.

“This is awkward, isn’t it?” She swallowed, thankful her voice remained steady. God, what could be worse than being the seventh wheel, the only one in the group with no romantic prospects? Her heart was pounding almost painfully. She reached for her drink and moved it to the opposite side of the table between Jace’s date and Myla. No one said anything for an extended moment. Heather turned and borrowed a chair from the next table, scraping it across the floor and plopping into it to face Myla.

“Sorry. Where were we?”

While Myla continued a story about a bear, Heather could see in her peripheral vision that Law was being hit on now by several single ladies. She couldn’t blame them, he was six feet of solid dark skin, a recently retired Marine, and he looked hot tonight in a soft gray T-shirt that molded perfectly to his defined biceps and chiseled chest. Didn’t he already have a date? Clearly Lawson wasn’t held back by memories of the woman he’d once claimed to love more than life.

The waitress set a pilsner of beer on the table in front of Heather and she immediately gripped it to distract her shaky fingers. She still had a quarter of a glass, but maybe the waitress was psychic. Clearly she understood Heather’s situation.

Two drafts later, the conversation with Myla had faded and Tucker had pulled Myla away to nuzzle her neck. Heather swiveled her chair around to watch the dancers in the middle of the floor. Jace was out there with his date. Heather smiled. Jace was naturally a good dancer, but she suspected he played down his skills for an audience. She wondered what he was like in private. He was an outrageously sexy man. Was he different when he was alone with a woman?

She chanced a look at Lawson, who was likewise dancing with someone. She knew he was holding back. The son of a dance teacher and Heather’s lifelong dance partner, she was intimately familiar with his skills on the dance floor. And elsewhere. The woman he was dancing with now was stiff and uncoordinated. Heather suspected he was holding back to match his skills with hers so as not to embarrass her. It was sweet of him, but the longer Heather thought about that, the angrier that idea made her. Law was born to stand out, not to hide behind some faceless floozy. Okay, she admitted the woman was pretty, and there was no denying she was well-endowed. In fact, she was currently rubbing her well-endowed parts all over his chest and arms. Heather snorted to herself. Lawson Potter could do better.

Heather’s skin began to crawl. She told herself it was pity for Lawson's choice of dance partner, but the little part of her brain that still executed reason suggested she was feeling plain old red-hot jealousy.

Her beer-fueled logic won out, so without stopping to think through the possible outcomes, Heather marched up to the DJ and slipped him a five-dollar bill with her song request. She waited a couple of beats for the song to change and walked confidently onto the dance floor.

Law had just excused himself from his partner and turned to leave the floor when Heather stepped into his arms. He barely reacted as she executed the first move in a dance they both knew so well. Without missing a step they fell into the familiar routine and after a few seconds Heather realized that everyone had moved to the sides to watch. With a smile for Law alone, she put her all into the dance. For four and a half minutes they moved and touched in perfect harmony. She knew Law was enjoying himself, enjoying her, because she knew him better than anyone. They had always been able to communicate without words. Even now, knowing Law was angry with her for putting him on the spot, she could feel that familiar charge flowing between them. He wanted her. And he didn’t, at least not emotionally.

The dance ended and the crowd applauded. Heather nodded to the gathered audience and went back to her seat. Law went straight to the bar and ordered a shot.

“Oh my God, Heather! That was amazing.” Myla grinned, pulling Heather’s gaze away from Lawson. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“They didn’t do the lift,” Jace grumbled, referring to the iconic dance move in Dirty Dancing.

“Oh stop!” Myla chided with a laugh and turned back to Heather. “Tell me that was rehearsed.”

She shrugged. “Sort of. We know all the steps, but–”

Jace leaned around his date and whispered sotto voce. “They just move like that. Always have.”

“That’s crazy,” Myla marveled.

Heather took a gulp of her now-warm beer and watched as women at the bar crowded around Law, probably begging for a personal re-enactment. Great. She’d done him a favor.

She needed another drink. Maybe two.

Before long, she too was pulled onto the dance floor, receiving quite the same attention Law was getting. Only, it felt like a shallow victory. She spent two songs swatting away wandering hands before Jace took pity on her. He swooped in and twirled her out of a particularly greasy man’s reach.

The music slowed to something they could sway to, so Heather relaxed and rested her head on Jace’s shoulder.

“Thanks for the save, Richardson.”

“Anytime, Red. You know that,” he whispered back.

She smiled and tipped her head back to look up at him. She was tall at nearly five-seven, but Jace was a full head taller. With his streaked blond hair and intense gray eyes, he was every straight woman’s fantasy.

“Why don’t we have chemistry, Jace?” She saw the surprise cross his handsome face before he chuckled and pulled her in closer.

“Crazy, right?” He squeezed her in a hug. “It’s better this way. You’re meant for someone else, and trust me, I make a better friend. I’m not husband material.”

“Speaking of chemistry, am I getting you in trouble with your date?” She glanced around the room for the woman.

“Hardly. After your little performance she wanted her own turn with Law.”

She winced. “Sorry.”

“I’m not.” Heather looked up at him in surprise and then narrowed her eyes. “As if you couldn’t have treated her to your own performance. I know you have moves, Jace Richardson.”

He wiggled his eyebrows. “Perhaps I like to show off my moves in private. Besides, now I can do you a little favor.” He looked over at his date and then grinned down at Heather.

“What favor?”

“You can thank me later, Red.”

The next moment Jace passed her into Law’s arms and snatched his date back. Heather felt Law stiffen and start to pull away so she slid her arms around his back and pressed into him. She literally felt his internal struggle and knew the minute he gave in. She relaxed her grip and moved her arms up to link behind his neck. He was wearing his ball cap backward, remnants of being playful with the other women he’d danced and drank with tonight. She fiddled with the brim as she looked at his face. His eyes, always so expressive and usually on the verge of a smile, held an expression she couldn’t decipher. There was a hardness in those depths that she didn’t recognize. Maybe from his years being deployed.

“Why do you keep doing this to me?” he asked in a low voice.

She could have pretended that she didn’t know what he meant, but that would have been petty, and she knew he could read her better than anyone. Or he used to, back when he cared. She knew he was referring to this strange new dynamic between them. From high school lovers to acquaintances, to…what?

What was she trying to prove? That he still had feelings for her? He’d made it pretty clear at Tucker’s wedding that his side of their love affair had been over a decade ago. That she still had feelings for him? He couldn’t possibly doubt it.

Several excuses rushed through her mind, but she didn’t want to spend their dance talking. She’d pushed him too far tonight and she knew she wouldn’t get another chance. Whatever his reasons, he’d work even harder to avoid her after this.

“I just need to feel you,” she whispered.

Law closed his eyes for a second and she knew he was remembering at least one of the times he’d said those very words to her. When they were five years old and nervous about the first day of kindergarten, he’d reached for her hand in class and held onto her like a lifeline. Or maybe the last time he’d said it, on prom night before they’d made love for the first time. He’d pulled her into his arms and held her until she thought she’d break.

It was only two weeks later that he’d left for boot camp without saying goodbye. Since they’d been planning to leave for college together, Heather’s shock had almost broken her. Joining the military hadn’t even been a blip on the radar of their future. Where had that idea come from?

It had been ten years since that day and Law had been back in Browning for only the last year and a half. Since his return he’d been friendly, but not intimate, rarely claiming to know her as more than a part of their larger friend group. Certainly he wasn’t hers anymore. She dropped her forehead to his shoulder. She still didn’t even know why and she wasn’t brave enough to ask.

Law tucked her close to his chest and rubbed his cheek against the top of her head. Trusting him to keep them balanced, she snuggled in and relaxed into his familiar smell. For the next three minutes everything was right in her world because Law was in her arms. She reveled in it, hoping that for once when they parted, she wouldn’t feel the suffocating loss of separation. She hoped that this time would cauterize the pain. When the song wound down, Law leaned in close to her ear. “You’ve got to stop, Heather.”

Law practically bolted away from her the instant the song was over and didn’t return to the table. He spent the next several songs being fawned over at the bar.

As far as Heather was concerned an emotional gutting should never take place in a bar. She stepped up to the far side of the bar and ordered another beer. If the extra alcohol didn’t make her feel better, maybe more dancing would.

Law dropped a fist on the table and pushed his beer away. “That’s it. She’s had enough.”

Jace slanted him an amused look. “Red’s had enough? Or you’ve had enough? Cuz, from where I’m sitting it looks like she’s just catching her second wind.”

They watched Heather slide off her barstool and head for the dancefloor again. She’d already shed her flannel over-shirt, leaving her in a tight tank top and ass-hugging jeans. He ground his teeth together. She was a damn good dancer, and he knew he wasn’t the only one noticing. He looked around the room, sizing up the other men watching her.

He had no excuse for feeling possessive, but he’d given up on trying to pretend it would go away. He felt like the Hunchback of Notre Dame or the Phantom of the Opera. He was destined to love a woman without the freedom to do anything about it. He couldn’t even explain himself. Their situation would be so much easier to deal with if she stopped taunting him.

“Let it go, man,” Jace muttered across the table. “She’s just blowing off steam. Having a good time.”

Except this wasn’t how Heather blew off steam. Or had a good time. “She’s not a drinker.”

Granted, there were a handful of years when he’d been deployed and she’d been away at college, but she was a health nut and he knew her idea of blowing off steam was hiking with her bloodhound, Frank, or pulling weeds in her garden. This wasn’t the girl he’d known his entire life.

“Looks like she’s trying it out tonight,” Jace pointed out unnecessarily.

They watched as men swarmed in to dance with her, but no one could move like she could. No one currently on the dance floor anyway. That knowledge improved his mood slightly.

A natural redhead, Heather was bold and outgoing, but far from a party girl. Whatever was going on right now was nothing short of a personality transplant. When one particularly confident man stepped forward and fitted her against him to try out some sexy moves Law decided they’d all had enough. He pushed away from the table.

Jace groaned and set his drink aside. “Don’t do this, Law.”

“She’s going to hate herself in the morning if I don’t stop her.”

“She’s going to hate you,” Jace pointed out.

“Good.” Maybe that would solve both their problems. “Hating me is better than hating herself. At least I won’t take advantage of her.”

Jace rolled his eyes and stood. “Yeah, heaven forbid you make a move on the woman who’s madly in love with you.”

“It’s been over for years,” Law muttered. He headed for the dance floor and wasn’t surprised when Jace kept pace with him. He knew Jace was expecting a fight. “Settle our tabs. I’ll pay you back tomorrow.”

Jace shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. I suspect once you get her home you’re going to have bigger problems than settling a tab.”

He knew Jace was right. Heather was going to flay him. He wasn’t worried, he could take whatever she threw at him.

“Hey, can I tell Tuck you waited until he left to start a bar fight?”

Law paused to frown at Jace. “I’m not starting a fight. I’m taking Heather home.”

“You’re going to start an honest-to-goodness barroom brawl. These guys aren’t gonna let you just walk up and take her. Tuck will be called right back here–in uniform this time. Being newlyweds and all, you know they are probably trying to get busy right about now.” Jace made a noise. “Myla will be pissed at you, too!”

“I’m not going to start a fight. Tuck’s not here and I only have you for backup.”

“Yeah, not as badass as having the sheriff at your back, right?”

“Tucker can enjoy his evening. Just let me get her out the door before you let ‘em come after me.”

“How much of a head start do you need, Ace?” Jace joked, once again falling into step beside Law.

Law crowded the jerk dancing with Heather. “She’s with me and it’s time to go.”

They stopped dancing, but the guy gave Law a pitying smirk. “Kinda looks like she’s with me now, don’t it?”

“She’s too polite to shove your greasy ass to the floor. But I’m not.” Law tugged Heather toward him. She stumbled into him wafting the sweet smell of alcohol with her. “Time to go home, Red.”

“You don’t get to call me that,” she hissed. “That name is reserved for friends only.”

“Babe, right now I’m the best friend you’ve got.”

Heather cuddled into him and sighed. “You always were.”

Law wondered if he’d miscounted her drinks. She was more drunk than he expected. The jerk stepped forward and took hold of her wrist, and tried to pull her out of Law’s embrace.

“You can’t just take her, asshole!”

“See, that’s that thing. He can,” Jace informed the man. When the guy bunched up, Jace tilted his head at Law and then stepped in front of the man, a solid hand to his chest to stop him from following.

Law bent and swung Heather over his shoulder and then headed toward the bar to retrieve her shirt and wallet. “Don’t puke on my ass, alright?”

“God, no!” He heard her answer just before he felt her small but surprisingly strong hands close over his cheeks. “It’s a fine ass. I would never want to ruin it.”

Lawson grunted on his way out to his truck. “As long as we’re in agreement, then.”

“So cocky,” she muttered.

She had no idea.

Heather was a lot of things, but quiet wasn’t one of them. Law stole a glance at her while he drove her home. She seemed smaller somehow, sitting in the passenger seat of his truck. Perhaps it was her normally bubbly personality that made her seem larger than life. Still, Law suspected her silence didn’t bode well.

“You okay over there, Red? Need me to pull over?”

Her cheek was resting against the window. She rolled her head at an angle to give him the side-eye. “Why do you do this, Law?”

He took a breath and played dumb. They rehashed this conversation every time they were alone. Since he couldn’t tell her what she needed to hear and she refused to give it up, they only had two choices. They could keep having the same old argument, or they could avoid each other. So far, neither option was working. “Do what?”

“Take care of me. Why do you bother?”

Law frowned. “Because we’re friends. I take care of my friends.”

She rolled her head back to face out the window again. “Tuck and Jace are your friends. You don’t haul them out of the bar. I’m friends with Tuck and Jace too, and they don’t put me over their shoulder and carry me out like a sack of...something.”

He chose to ignore the point she was making. “Do you spend much time in bars, Red?”

“I told you not to call me that,” she muttered. “I’m thinking about it.”

“Maybe wait and make that decision in the morning.”

“Ha,” she answered, seeming to have nothing more to add.

They were both quiet as he turned into her driveway.

“So why are you thinking about hanging out at bars?” He cut the engine and came around to help her out of the truck. She wobbled a little and then let go when she was steady on her feet. He followed her to the door and pulled her keyring out of his pocket.

“Hey! Where did you get those?” She was cute when she was indignant, but now definitely wasn’t the time to tell her that. In fact, he’d probably never be able to tell her that again. Dammit. He should have let Jace take care of her.

“You left them on the bar when you were on the dance floor.” He leaned into her face. “Where any bum could have picked them up.”

She tilted her head. “So I should thank you for being that bum?”

Lawson almost laughed. She was starting to turn green and still she was full of sass.

“I want to get laid,” Heather answered.

He dropped the keys. “Did you just say you want to get laid?” He shook his head and stooped to retrieve them. He jammed the right key into the lock and forced the door open before her neighbors could notice a black man lingering on her doorstep and call her folks. It wouldn’t have mattered if her neighbors knew him. This was Browning, and people talked.

The moment Law opened the door Heather bolted for the bathroom. He closed the door and followed the sound of retching to find Heather huddled over the toilet. Her bloodhound, Frank, was hovering nearby and when he spotted Law, his fuzzy eyebrows twitched as if to ask what was wrong with his human. Law hunkered down to pet Frank’s long ears.

“Do you have to go out, bud?”

Frank’s tail thumped lightly.

“Okay. Let’s get you taken care of and then we’ll come back for your mama.”

Law patted his thigh and when he moved to the door, Frank followed. Law studied Heather’s backyard koi pond while the dog investigated the perimeter of the yard and did his business. He hadn’t spent much time with Heather since he’d come back to Browning, limiting himself to their combined efforts during search and rescue missions or when their friend group was getting together. Keeping the promise he’d made to her father, he hadn’t come anywhere close to her house. Until tonight.

Heather had created a beautiful home. Law knew from Tucker and Jace that she’d bought her own house, and while the guys helped her with the heavy stuff, she had mostly done all the work herself. Law didn’t doubt for a minute that she was capable, but it broke his heart remembering how much of this had been their plan. The future they’d planned to spend together. Taking care of her now, when there was a good chance she wouldn’t remember any of it in the morning, was the best he could do.

“Good job, Frank,” he told the dog when he trotted back to the door. Lawson slid the patio door open and followed Frank back through the house to the bathroom where Heather was lying on the tile floor with one towel rolled beneath her head as a pillow and another haphazardly covering her like a tiny blanket.

Law squatted beside her and brushed a strand of silky, flaming red hair out of the way. “How are you feeling, sweetheart?”

Frank plopped beside her with a groan and rested his floppy face on her hip.

“Will I die?” she whispered.

He suppressed a smile in case she opened her eyes. “Probably not.”

“Why did I do this?” she mumbled.

“Apparently you thought it would get you laid.”

She opened one eye and frowned at him. “I couldn’t even pull that off.”

“I suspect it’s only because I ruined your fun. If I hadn’t stepped in you’d be lying on someone else’s gross bathroom floor right now.”

“Ha. Ha.” She half-rolled to her back to look up at him. “Are you ins–, inf–? Are you saying my floor is gross? Cuz it’s not, you know.”

“If you say so, Red, but you’d be more comfortable in your bed.”

“Will you come too?”

“No.”

She looked at him for a minute and then rolled back to her side. “I forgot you hate me.”

Law watched her eyes sink shut and frowned. He started to explain himself and then decided she was too drunk to listen anyway. He patted his thigh again. “Alright, Frank. Let’s get this woman to bed.”

Frank got to his feet and waited near the door as Law lifted Heather in his arms and carried her through to her bedroom. Her bed was unmade so it was easy enough to see which side she slept on. He deposited her in her spot and reached for the blanket before pausing and cursing softly. She was still fully dressed, right down to her cowboy boots. The boots he could deal with. The skin-tight jeans? He wasn’t so sure.

“Why couldn’t you have worn a sweatsuit or something?” He grumbled as he pulled her boots off and set them neatly beside her nightstand.

“That wouldn’t have been sexy.”

So she wasn’t completely out. Good, then she could undress herself. “They would’ve been easier to take off.”

“Oh. That’s a good idea. Are you going to undress me?”

“No, I need you to undress you. You’re a lead weight right now.”

“Do you think I’m too heavy?”

He thought she was perfect. “No, but you have on tight jeans and I don’t think we’re, ah, intimate enough to flash each other our undies, ya know?”

“We were, once.”

“We’re not anymore.”

Without opening her eyes she unfastened her pants and then lifted one leg in the air. “Pull from my ankle.”

He moved to the end of the bed and hooked his fingers into the hem of each pant leg, eased the cuff over her heels and tugged. Before he even had a chance to look away, his vision was scorched by a glimpse of a silky peach thong. He tossed her jeans aside with one hand and threw the blanket over her with the other.

Shit. He would never get that image out of his brain now. He would always be picturing what lay beneath her normally casual attire.

Heather rolled to her side and sighed which was evidently Frank’s signal to go to bed as well. He hopped up on the bed, turned in a neat circle and laid against her back with a lazy, satisfied groan.

“You’re a lucky dog, Frank,” he muttered, and reached over to turn out the light.

From the doorway he heard her call out softly. “Law? I don’t want to be alone tonight.”

His heart stopped and restarted so quickly that he felt light-headed. “I’ll be right outside, Red.”

It was going to be a long night.