No Way to Love

By Audrey Claire

Darcie Stevenson was on the verge of receiving a marriage proposal. She had just been given lead on an important project at work. Life couldn't get better, and it certainly couldn't go wrong. That was the view of an "avoider," according to her best friend because Darcie's life fell apart in one day.

Now unemployed and single, Darcie moves to a small town to a house that stinks of cat urine. She's sworn off men and determined to start over and face challenges with eyes wide open. Then she meets Buck Murphy—angry, bitter, unfriendly. The entire town hates Buck and claims he's murdered his wife.

From the first moment Darcie meets Buck, she's drawn to him. Buck wants nothing to do with either Darcie or the rest of the town. He's happy building his furniture and having his dog as his only friend. But Darcie can't leave Buck alone, and when misfortune falls on him, she's in the right place at the right time.

Buck makes Darcie a proposition. She sees a way to help herself while helping Buck. She'll keep her head on straight and not fall in love. But how can sparks not fly when the two of them spend hours together every night, hand in hand.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Audrey Claire
• Release date: Dec 2, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393700210

Book preview

Chapter 1

Darcie tossed her keys on the hall table and at the same time kicked her heels off. Her feet ached so bad she moaned. Would someone remind me why I wear those things all day? Oh that’s right. I love them.

She snickered as she strolled farther into the apartment. Thoughts of what she had in the fridge to cook for her and Umar ran through her head. Like clockwork, her tummy growled. Salad and steak, she mused. Umar loved that, and she was pretty good it if she did say so herself.

What time was he getting off work again? She checked her cell phone, prepared to text him the question. The phone buzzed, and she frowned. God, her boss was already calling about something? Didn’t he remember she was starting a four-day vacation and refused to think about stupid work?

Hello? She walked into the kitchen to take the steak out of the fridge. That’s right, she had thought of steak that morning and took them from the freezer. She must be getting senile at the old age of thirty-three. A snort of amusement escaped her.

Darcie, I’m trying to find the Johnson report. Sharon sounded harassed as usual, but there was a note of something else in her tone. Nervousness? Do you know where it is?

Hey, Sharon. She tried to keep the censor out of her tone over the fact that Sharon never greeted a person ever. I’m on top of it. My deadline to present a plan of attack isn’t until next month, and I’m meeting with Mr. Johnson the second I get back in the office to get familiar with everything.

Um…

Darcie’s stomach knotted. Um?

Well, listen, kiddo...

The package of steaks almost slipped from Darcie’s fingers. She caught it just in time and set it carefully on the table. Warning bells went off in her head. Sharon never called anyone kiddo unless she had bad news to share. The Johnson Report was a big deal. Darcie was over the moon to have been assigned the project. She had planned to use the opportunity to show what she was made of. Now Sharon had her worried.

I don’t like worrying.

What’s going on, Sharon?

Why don’t you come back to the office and let’s have a talk. I had hoped to have the conversation with you after your vacation, but it seems like it’s unavoidable.

What conversation? The words barely made it past Darcie’s lips. She would rather say she would catch up with Sharon later. Better still, turn back the clock and just tell her the report was locked in her desk and end the call. Is there something you need to tell me?

God, she’d gone and done it. She asked the question. Her mom came to mind, and Darcie could hear her complaining about how Darcie liked to keep the peace and would do whatever it took to maintain it. That was a good thing in Darcie’s book.

I can stay later and meet you here. Sharon paused, probably checking the time on her phone. Let’s say we meet in an hour and a half?

Let’s not and pretend we did.

Any clues to what we’re talking about? Darcie’s chuckle caught in her throat a bit.

See you then. Sharon ended the call.

Darcie stood beside the table, staring at the steaks and not making sense of it. All of a sudden, the meat turned her off. The food would probably turn to sawdust in her mouth at that point.

She patted her cheeks. Pull yourself together, woman. You have a great life. You’re good at your job, and others appreciate you. Not to mention the fact that you have a boyfriend to feed, so get a move on.

Her appetite came roaring back, and she laughed. At the end of the day, even if Sharon did give her bad news about the report, she could convince the woman to change her mind by stating all she had accomplished on the company’s behalf in the last five years.

Feeling hopeful, she texted Umar. Hey, honey, what time are you getting in? I’ll have something special waiting.

She waited for a reply, but got nothing. Maybe he was busy at the moment. Well, she would get started on dinner and listen out for the ding. After salting the steaks to get them a little more tender as they came to room temperature, she brought out the romaine, tomatoes, and other ingredients for her salad.

Her cell phone rang, and she sprang at it, heart beating fast in anticipation of hearing from Umar. God, she was too crazy about him. She wondered when he would pop the question. They had been dating for the last year and a half—a little short for marriage but one never knew.

Chrysta, Darcie said in surprise. I thought—never mind. How’s it going?

You thought I was Umar, Chrysta teased. Admit it.

I don’t know what you mean.

Hm. Christa laughed. Well at least you sound fine. I worried for a moment there.

What about? Darcie cut her finger while chopping tomatoes and winced. She sucked a dot of blood from her finger and searched for a bandage in the junk drawer. All she found was an empty box. Darn, she was far too clumsy and probably used more bandages than anyone in the history of mankind.

I thought you might be upset about something, Chrysta explained, because I got this really cryptic message from Umar to ‘talk to your girl.’ Any idea what that was about?

No clue. He isn’t here yet, so I can’t ask him. Maybe it was a joke.

Maybe. Chrysta didn’t sound convinced. Have you reconnected with your mom?

No, she’s still mad about me dating Umar. Of course she says it’s not because he’s Black. She says it’s because she ‘just knows’ he’s not right for me. I don’t understand her.

She’ll come around.

Darcie would like to agree, but it had been over a year since she spoke with her mom. The pain of losing the only close family member she had left overwhelmed her at times. She didn’t want to take a stubborn stance wit her mom, but neither could she let the woman rule her life. If her mom decided who she dated when it came to Umar, where would it end?

Still chitchatting with Chrysta, Darcie left the kitchen to go change her clothes. I’ve been so distracted, I’m still in my dress. All day, I wanted nothing more than to relax in a hot bubble bath. What are you doing?

Nothing much. Again, she sounded hesitant.

Darcie stopped in front of her closet door with her hand on the knob. What aren’t you telling me?

I’m sure I’ll tell you later. Like you I’m done with this day. In fact, I’m going to forget my diet and eat cheese and crackers for dinner.

Weren’t you trying to get into your size six jeans?

That’s a pipe dream. These hips aren’t going back in, and the part that makes me want to weep is that I can’t even blame the weight gain on having kids.

Cheer up, my friend. I’m right there with you.

You’re not fat.

I’m a cookie away.

Chrysta laughed. Exaggerator. That’s what skinny girls say.

Darcie pulled the closet door open and gasped. Umar’s things were gone. She knew it was true, because all her clothes were pushed to the side. A gaping hole remained where he kept several suits and a few pairs of jeans hanging in her closet. They didn’t live together. Umar had his own place, but had often spent the night with her. Now he was gone.

That can’t be right, she muttered.

What can’t? Darcie? What’s going on?

Darcie’s world collapsed. Her heart shattered into a million pieces. She dropped the phone on the floor and rushed around the room, dragging dresser drawers open and slamming them closed. She dropped to her knees and peered under the bed. No boxes where Umar liked to store his shoes. All evidence of him staying at her place was gone.

Chrysta, Darcie whispered.

From across the room, Chrysta shouted into the phone, but Darcie didn’t have the strength to pick it up. She sank onto the bed. Tears spilled down her cheeks. When she slammed a fist on the mattress beside her, something crackled. She looked down to find a note and picked it up to read.

I’m sorry you had to find out like this, Darcie. You wouldn’t take a hint.

She choked. "Take a hint? Take a hint? What kind of person breaks up with a woman based on hints?"

Wild emotion crowded her senses. She thought about the steak on the kitchen table, waiting for Umar to come. In a daze, she recalled that Sharon waited for her to meet her at work. The last thing she felt like doing was holding it together enough to talk shop with her boss.

The front door opened and closed. Hope rose in her for a second that Umar came to his senses.

Darcie? Chrysta called, shattering the hope. Are you okay?

Darcie forgot that she had a key to Chrysta’s place and vise versa. They were each other’s emergency contacts. When Darcie stopped speaking on the phone, Chrysta must have worried and come over.

What’s happening, sweetie? Chrysta appeared in her bedroom doorway.

He’s gone.

Wh— Chrysta balled her hand into a fist. That filthy jerk!

Darcie showed her the note. Chrysta shouted and stomped, complained and threatened. Her steadfast support warmed Darcie just a bit as her heart froze over.

I say we find him and let him know what we think of him, Chrysta suggested.

Darcie’s eyes widened. I can’t do that.

"I can."

It won’t change anything. The fact remains that he left without a word. He broke up with me in a note. Who does that?

Slimy men, that’s who.

Darcie snorted and then choked on the lump in her throat. I feel like a fool sitting here thinking he would propose any day now.

Chrysta studied the note. He says here you ignored the signs.

What signs?

Her friend eyed her doubtfully. Don’t let what I’m about to say hurt your feelings, sweetie, but you are a bit of an avoider.

Offense rose in Darcie’s heart. A what?

An avoider. The guilt and clear apology in Chrysta’s expression made Darcie want to tell her not to share. Her friend went on anyway. When things get tough, you tend to bury your head in the sand.

I do not!

You don’t like confrontation.

Nobody does.

You will pretend a problem doesn’t exist rather than have to deal with anyone who opposes your view.

Darcie’s mouth fell open.

Chrysta moved to kneel in front of her and rubbed Darcie’s arms. From the pain in her eyes, it was clear she didn’t want to make the admission she did. Darcie fought resentment. If she wanted a lecture, she could have phoned her mom. Not that she planned to demand Chrysta shut her mouth because if she fought with Chrysta, who else would she have in her corner?

So you were against us being together too?

Don’t be absurd. Chrysta rose and sat beside her. I’m not interested in Black men, but even I could see Umar was yummy to look at. I can only imagine—

Darcie groaned. I loved him.

Her friend hugged her. I know you did, sweetie. But if he couldn’t see what a catch you are, then he’s not worthy of you. We’ll pick ourselves up and carry on.

I can’t.

Don’t say that. Darcie Stevenson, you’re the strongest woman I know.

"No, I mean I can’t pick myself up yet. Maybe."

Explain.

I have to be back at work in— She checked her phone for the time. —a half hour. Ugh! I don’t want to go.

Tell them you’re on vacation, and they’ll see you when you get back.

I’d like to, but Sharon said it’s serious. Something tells me the bad news hasn’t stopped yet. So, you see, I can’t pick myself up until I’ve fallen over that last cliff.

You like dramatics, don’t you?

Darcie managed a smile, and her best friend gave her a knowing look. She could always leave it to Chrysta to cheer her up. She wouldn’t trade her for anything.

Chapter 2

Darcie shoveled yet another spoonful of ice cream into her mouth. She could just feel her hips widening with each bite. Staring blearily at the TV, she tried to figure out what was going on in the show. The problem was she didn’t recall what happened five minutes ago, let alone the title of the show or the plot.

Her mind scrambled every time she tried to focus. She raised the pint of ice cream and checked the ingredients label. Does this thing have alcohol in it? I swear I’m drunk.

Since she was alone in her apartment, no one answered. Loneliness brought out a sigh, and she blinked back tears. God, when would the pity party be over? No matter how hard she tried to cut it short, the emotions clung, making her weepy, droopy, and lethargic.

She leaned forward to grab the remote off the table and got a whiff of herself. Ugh, she hadn’t showered in a couple days. Things were getting desperate. All around her living room were discarded pieces of clothing and dirty dishes. Mail on the dining room table spilled over onto the floor.

A key rattled in the front door lock. Her heart didn’t stir. She knew it wasn’t Umar, and she didn’t want it to be. She despised him, wished she had never met him. The door opened, and Darcie stepped inside.

Her best friend gagged. It stinks in here! Darcie, haven’t you opened a window or a door all day?

What’s the point?

I have your mail here.

Throw it over there.

Her friend set a hand on her hip, standing in front of her. I’m all for eating ice cream when you’re down and throwing yourself a pity party for a while. But there comes a point when you have to pick yourself up and begin again.

That’s true.

And?

Darcie pointed her spoon at her. That point hasn’t come yet.

You’ve been sitting there for two months.

You’re exaggerating. Yesterday I was sitting on the floor. The day before that I was in my office.

Chrysta shook her head. She walked over to the dining room table and began sifting through all the mail. For some reason, Darcie felt like defending her situation.

You know I’m not crying over Umar, don’t you? I’m crying over my life. Well, not crying anymore but…

Chrysta didn’t respond.

In the same day he dumps me, I lose my job.

Uh-huh. Chrysta still wasn’t paying attention.

"The same day. And… Darcie huffed. Are you listening to me?"

Sure am.

I’ve put my resume in at a million different firms. I called many more, and even interviewed. I’ve been blackballed. That must be it. Then again, I’m not important enough to be blackballed. It’s just…I don’t know. Bad luck. Whatever the case, I have just about used up my savings, which were tiny in the first place. I’m scared and sad all at the same time. This isn’t me, Chrysta.

Now her friend turned around, holding a large envelope. You’re right. It’s not you. That silly, bitter ex-supervisor will rule the day she let you go. Her niece won’t be able to do half the job you did. I guarantee it. But you have to get up, and you have me to help you.

A sense of warmth spread over Darcie. I’m so glad you’re here. I know it’s hasn’t been easy dealing with me.

It would be a lot easier if you would shower and straighten this place up.

Darcie flushed. She set aside the empty ice cream container. Sorry. I’ll do that. I don’t want to run you off.

You can’t get rid of me that easily. Remember, I need you too. I don’t know what I would have done if I couldn’t hide out here. It must be the season for horrible exes.

Darcie began picking up the dirty clothes from the couch and the floor. Have you heard anything from yours?

No. I’ve been incognito at work. Although I did get a strange phone call earlier. You didn’t call me and not say anything, did you?

Darcie pushed fingers into her hair. The greasy mess grossed her out. Yeah, it was time to wash. I’m not sure if I called you. I haven’t slept for days. I’m moving into zombie mode at this point. Wait, hold on. A neuron is starting to fire. If I called you, my name would come up on your ID.

Good point.

Chrysta half turned away so Darcie couldn’t see if she was worried. Unlike Darcie’s ex, Chrysta’s ex—more a lover than a boyfriend—was obsessed with her. When she broke off relations, the man turned stalker. Chrysta had begun spending nights at Darcie’s place just to get some relief, and she changed her hours since they worked in the same building.

There’s an envelope here from a law firm, Chrysta said.

Darcie’s stomach dropped. Throw it away. I can’t take anymore bad news.

Who says it’s bad news? It could be good news.

From a law firm? Darcie shook her head. "Bad