Always You (Barker Sisters Book 1), page 1
Copyright © 2023 by Haley Zaragoza
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, ideas, situations, and places are the product of the author’s imagination and are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
ISBN: 9798871987728
Cover design by Haley Zaragoza with artwork by Simply Dylan Designs.
Editing by Jenn Lockwood.
Visit authorhaleyzaragoza.com for more information.
Created with Vellum
For all the moms hustling while their kids run around in the background, I’m right there with you.
It’s a miracle I got this book written.
contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
About The Author
Also by Haley Zaragoza
1
Ellis
This is not how I envisioned my night going—or my life going, for that matter. Of course I know Brandon has been acting shady for the better part of a year, but I thought we had just hit a rough patch in our relationship. All relationships do at some point, right? Even those adorable couples who have been together for fifty-plus years have had years where they’ve spent more time arguing than loving. I’m sure of it.
Brandon and I have been together for five years. Six, if you count that whole year of us telling everyone that we were “just friends,” when I was pining over him and his bad-boy attitude and just waiting for him to decide if he wanted to be in a committed relationship or not. That whole situation-ship should have been my first sign to see myself out, but I’ve never been one to run away from a challenge. Now I’m thinking I should learn when to see the signs for what they are. I’m a fool. Everyone knows you can’t change someone by dating them, and I’ve just learned that lesson the hard way.
My eyes are glazing over as I stare past the phone clutched in my shaking hand. I can’t bear to look at the picture one second more. I shove the phone back into Valerie’s waiting hand as she rubs my back with her other hand. She’s such a good friend, and I hate that I’m ruining this day for her with all my drama. Drama that I didn’t create, but mine nonetheless.
“Are you okay, Ellis?” she asks in a soothing tone that reminds me so much of a mother trying to calm a tantrum-y toddler. She has always been so good at making sure everyone around her is comfortable, but it’s her twenty-seventh birthday. She even got the hilarious Charlotte Lucas birthday cake with the Pride and Prejudice movie quote on it. (You know the one.) This night should be all about celebrating her and having fun. She shouldn’t be worried about me right now.
“Yeah…well, no. But I will be. What’s the name of the bar he’s playing at again?” I turn to her and ask. I straighten my spine, refusing to mope in the middle of this busy restaurant.
“Wiley’s. It’s all the way in Clifton, though. Do you think you should drive there…in this state?” she asks, waving her hand in front of my face that probably isn’t as composed as I’m hoping it is. She watches me for a moment and then comes to a decision. “I’ll come with you,” she says as she starts to gather her purse from the floor beside her.
“No! Enjoy the rest of your birthday. Don’t worry about me.” I push her back down by her shoulder as she tries to stand from her seat. “I’m fine,” I say in a wobbly voice, betraying the fact that I am not at all fine. She opens her mouth to argue, but I narrow my eyes at her, daring her to say anything else. Thankfully, she takes the hint and keeps her skinny butt planted in her seat.
I turn to the rest of the girls at the table, who have all gathered to celebrate Valerie’s birthday. They’ve all been doing their best to pretend like they haven’t been listening to my world crumble around me for the past five minutes. They suck at pretending, but it’s fine. They would all find out eventually. Everyone in this tiny town is going to find out.
Oh joy.
“Umm, something’s come up, and I have to go,” I say to them. They feign their best shocked expressions, but on my way out the door, one of them yells, “Destroy the jerk and leave no evidence!”
Another calls out, “Let me know if you need to borrow a shovel!” It gives me enough confidence to walk out with my head held high. Girlfriends are the best!
As I stomp to my car in the packed parking lot of the pub I was supposed to be spending my evening at, I can’t get the picture of Brandon—my Brandon—sitting in a dark corner booth with his arm wrapped around some leggy blonde girl. He’s playing with his band tonight—or at least that was what he told me he was doing. Now I’m not so sure if that was the truth. There are always groupies at his shows, and they always try to get his attention. I’ve seen him look plenty of times, and I’d be lying if I said it didn’t bother me. But I’ve learned it just comes with the territory. I’ve gotten used to it over the years—or so I’ve tried very hard to convince myself that I have. He never gave me reason to think he would pursue any of them… before tonight, that is.
He’s not famous, per se, but he has a huge following on social media, and his shows sell out most of the time, especially when he’s playing here in Texas. I’ve been with him from the very beginning, when his band was just getting started. I listened to the first song they ever wrote together, sitting on his grungy, stained couch in his parents’ basement. I was with them in the recording studio when they recorded their first album, which was a bit of a flop. I even sang backup on one of the tracks of their second album when the girl who was supposed to do it got food poisoning from bad shrimp and couldn’t make it. And this is the thanks I get for being such a supportive girlfriend.
I used to go to all his shows before my life got busy with a full-time job. I probably would have been there tonight if I hadn’t been at Valerie’s birthday dinner. Thank goodness for Val’s older brother, Logan. There’s no telling how much longer his little fling would have gone on if he hadn’t seen Brandon and Ms. Blondie together tonight. As much as I’d like to think that I wouldn’t have put up with his nonsense for much longer, I know that I was willing to put up with almost anything to finally get a ring on my finger. Good grief, that sounds pathetic. I never wanted to be so desperate. How did I become that girl?
I throw my purse on the passenger seat and speed out of the parking lot. My hands are shaking so much it’s a miracle I can even drive. I should plan what I’m going to say before I get there so I don’t end up standing in front of them all tongue-tied and pitiful.
“Hey, home-wrecker!!!” I scream alone in my car. No, no, no. That’s not right. I can’t blame this on her…or at least, not completely on her. What if she’s as much in the dark as I am? She might think he’s single. He hasn’t really posted about me on his socials much—or at all. Gosh, I really am an idiot. How did I not see it? That should have been the tenth red flag at least.
I could saunter in all sexy, like a model, and have a seat at their table nonchalantly before saying something like, “Wow, Brandon. What a surprise seeing you here. Why don’t you introduce me to your little friend?” I can just picture the shocked and horrified look he’ll have on his face when he realizes what’s happening. He’ll push her aside, and he’ll beg and plead for me to listen to whatever lame excuse he’ll have for me. But it won’t matter at all. Every word he utters will fall on deaf ears because I’ll be too busy walking away. I’ll flip my hair and never look back. It will be perfect.
A slow smile spreads across my face, and I grip the steering wheel tighter as I drive out of town. Clifton is forty-five minutes away. He must have thought it was far enough away that no one we know would be in the crowd since most people in Oak Grove have heard him play hundreds of times and don’t travel to see him anymore. Well, tonight is different.
My emotions spiral all over the place during the drive. One minute, I’m terrified and can hardly breathe, and the next second, I’m sobbing and heartbroken. Then, an Alanis Morrisette song comes on the radio, and I turn into an angry and vengeful feminist.
Screw men! Who needs them?! Definitely not me!
I eventually pull into the parking lot of the bar. It’s packed…because of course it is. Everyone just can’t wait to listen to Brandon Marsh sing about love and heartbreak. And I can hear the music all the way out here in the back of the parking lot. That’s Brandon’s voice I hear through the speakers. I hate that he has such a deep, beautiful voice. It’s soulful and the tiniest bit raspy. Why can’t he sound like a screeching banshee just this once? It would make it so much easier to hate his lying guts. My hands are trembling, so I shake them out and do some breathing exercises to gather my wits about me.
I’m a goddess. A lioness. A warrior queen. Nothing scares me…except for spiders. But they have eight legs, and some of them are venomous. Well, roaches are pretty scary too. I mean, they’re huge, and they can fly. Something that massive and disgusting shouldn’t possess wings.
But I digress. Other than those two things, I am absolutely fearless.
I walk to the front door of the bar on shaky legs, but it’s not because I’m afraid. It’s only because I had to leave the pub before my food came out, and now my blood sugar is crashing. I wonder if they have peanuts inside for me to snack on.
I am not afraid.
I open the door to the bar and pull out my I.D. for the bouncer. He gives it a quick glance and then waves me on through. I turn the corner, and the sight of the crowd dancing and cheering in front of the stage is overwhelming. He’s up there, front and center, looking down on his adoring fans as if he’s the king of the world. He has no clue that I know his dirty little secret.
I spot Valerie’s brother, Logan, hanging out in the back of the crowd with his arms crossed over his chest, looking almost as angry as I feel.
“Is she still here?” I ask as I step up beside him. He startles for a moment until he realizes it’s just me. He gives me a pitying look, so I look away from him and look at the crowd of people instead. Pity is not what I need right now, because it makes me want to cry. I cannot let Brandon see me cry. I need someone to cheer me on. There will be time for coddling and pity parties later. Maybe I should have let Valerie come with me.
“Uh, yeah, she is. But do you really want to do this here, Ellis? Around all these people?” he asks hesitantly. He takes my hand and winds my arm through his, and he tries to steer me back outside. I rip my arm free and back away from him. We aren’t doing this big-brother, protector act. It has to happen now, while I still have the nerve. I can’t go down quietly. Not after almost six years wasted on that man-child. I want to go out in a blaze of glory. I want to go down swinging. I want to make him feel as humiliated as I feel.
“Where is she?” I ask, putting as much steel as I can into my voice.
“It’s the blonde girl in the short pink dress, up front on the right,” he says with a deep sigh. He clearly thinks this is a horrible idea, and he’s probably right. Maybe I should wait until tomorrow when I’ve had time to process my emotions and calm down a bit, but something in me is telling me it has to be now. If this is a mistake, it’s mine to make. And oh boy, am I going to make it.
“Thanks.” I turn toward the stage and make my way over to where Logan said she’d be. Sure enough, there she is. The same girl from the picture. She’s even prettier in person, and I hate her even more. I could never compete with her perfection. I’m pretty enough, I guess. I have long, wavy, almost-black hair, and people tell me my blue eyes are pretty a lot. I’m not every man’s fantasy come to life like her, though.
I pretend to bump into her so I can have an opening to talk to her. I accidentally step on her toes in the process, and she lifts her foot in surprise. Too bad it wasn’t my stiletto heel digging into her foot.
“Oh, I’m so sorry,” I say in a breathy voice because my heart is racing, making it hard to breathe. I’ve never done anything like this before, and I don’t know where I’m going with this act. I watch her eyes, waiting to see if there’s a moment of recognition. But there’s nothing. She clearly has no idea who I am. Do I just outright tell her that I’m Brandon’s girlfriend? Would she even believe me? It’s not like I can go drag him off the stage to vouch for me. Should I wait until he has a break in his set to make the big reveal?
“No problem,” she says with a girlish laugh. She leans away from me with a wary look on her face, and I realize I’m still standing way too close and take a step back.
I need to find a way to talk to her… A compliment maybe? I give her a quick up-and-down look. She has smooth, toned legs that are tanned to perfection. Her hair is long and shiny, and her makeup looks like it was done by a professional. Call me a bitter shrew, but I don’t want to compliment her, per se. She probably gets enough of that already, anyway.
“Oh my gosh, I love your dress!” I say. I don’t actually love it. It’s not my style at all. I’m sure plenty of people do love it, though. I can see that it’s good quality.
“Thanks! My boyfriend bought it for me and surprised me with it earlier!” What a tramp! She has a boyfriend? And she’s wearing the dress he bought her while she’s cheating on him. Poor guy is going to be just as heartbroken as I am.
“How cute! Who is he?” I ask, looking around the crowd. Maybe I can go grab him and let him know his girl is a two-timing, no good… She laughs and points to the stage, right where Brandon is standing. Surely she’s not saying what I think she’s saying.
“Who?” I ask, because I have to be mistaken about the direction of her pointed finger.
“Him… The singer of the band.”
“The singer is your boyfriend?” I ask. My voice is shaky. I’m going to be sick. I assumed that she was just another groupie or something and they had just met tonight. I thought she was just a little one-night fling. I’m clearly wrong.
The current song ends, and the roar of the crowd almost splits my head in two. And then I hear Brandon’s deep baritone in the microphone.
“Lacy Roberts! Will you please come up here?” he says, his voice full of adoration that I’ve never once heard from him while he talks to me. The bubbly blonde next to me—Lacy, I presume—makes an excited squeaky sound before her long, tan legs carry her up onto the stage.
One of Brandon’s band members takes his guitar from him, and Lacy stands right in front of him, holding both of his hands. Lacy beams up at him as if he hung the moon in her sky. Brandon makes some grand speech to her that has the crowd ‘oohing’ and ‘ahhing,’ but I don’t hear any of it over the hum in my ears and the racing of my heart.
Logan rushes up to me, wraps an arm around my shoulders, and turns me away from the scene happening up on the stage. He makes comforting sounds and rubs my arms. He’s oh-so tender, just like his sister. I sway on my feet, and Logan pulls me in closer to his side to keep me from collapsing.
I turn back around, but Logan moves to block my view. I push him out of the way, and my eyes land on the scene that now has everyone in the crowd completely transfixed. Brandon is down on one knee in front of Lacy, holding out a tiny little box that is most definitely holding a tiny little ring that will slide onto her tiny little finger.
“I’m sorry, Ellis,” Logan says. The misery in his voice almost matches the misery in my heart.
“It’s okay,” I say, but it comes out all muffled. My vision is suddenly very blurry, so I blink a few times to clear it up. The crowd around us erupts into cheers and applause as the happy couple shares a celebratory kiss that lasts way too long. Brandon’s band member gives him back his guitar, and they prepare to play another song—a song he’s dedicating to his new fiancée. A song that I helped write last year when Brandon was having “writer’s block.” He always has writer’s block.
“Ah, crap. Are you crying?” Logan asks, sounding very put out by my display of emotions. You think he’d be used to it since he lives with his sister.
“No, of course not!” I shout at him. I swipe a hand at my cheek to hide the evidence, but there are now so many tears coming down in such a rapid succession that there’s no covering it up. Dang it! This is exactly what I did not want to do!
Lacy makes her way off the stage, and Brandon’s eyes follow her the entire time until she once again stands right next to me. And that’s when Brandon finally notices me in the crowd. His eyes widen in alarm, and his mouth opens and closes several times as he tries to figure out what to do. He’s supposed to be singing now, but he’s no longer paying attention to the song. The band loops around to the beginning of the intro, hoping he comes in this time.
I cross my arms across my chest and raise a questioning eyebrow at him. I’m very tempted to grab a drink from a nearby table and throw it at his head. Or march myself onto the stage and punch him in the face. But I don’t want to be arrested for assault tonight on top of everything else, so I simply turn and walk away. Logan moves to follow me, and he’s uttering comforting words in my ear as we walk through the crowd.
