A Change of Heart: Boys of Bragg, #1

By Randa Knight

Dee

One night.

One decision.

Taking chances isn't a new concept to me, but I've never been one to take a chance on love. Michael changes all of that. No more party girl, no more one-night stands. I fall hard for the cerulean-eyed sex god who shows me what it's like to truly be cherished and loved. 

Only, I'm not sure how long it can last.

 

Michael

I knew the moment I met Dee that she was trouble. But when she unexpectedly opens up to me the night we meet, I realize she's the only person who could change how I think about relationships, how I feel, and how I look at life. She's a fiery, spontaneous woman who challenges me at every turn. I should let her go. But I don't think I want to. 

But right now my career won't allow me to be the kind of man she deserves. 

And Dee doesn't trust herself or my love for her. 

If I'm going to keep her, I have to let her walk away, as much as it pains me to my core. 

Yes, it sounds crazy and it might just backfire, but if my plan pays off, we'll both stop running and finally realize how much we need each other, how our hearts were made for each other.

 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Randa Knight
• Release date: Sep 28, 2021
• ISBN: 9798201659332

Book preview

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Ten months earlier...

"COME ON, LIZZY. YOU ARE taking fooor-evah. I grab a bottled water from the fridge and head down the hall to Lizzy’s room. I’m coming in even if you’re naked."

She’s holding up the miniskirt I laid out for her to wear. This is NOT a skirt. She points to the clothes I put on the bed earlier. You expect me to wear those? I don’t think so.

I look at her impatiently and grab the skirt to help her into it. I did that stupid dinner party thing, where old man Howard tried to grope me. You owe me. A night of three Ds—drinking, dancing, and hopefully, we both end the night with dick. She pulls the shimmery tank top over her head, and I unhook her bra.

What the hell are you doing? I need that, she bitches and attempts to stop me. I roll my eyes at her dramatics.

No, you don’t. Besides, your bra straps were showing.

So, I can unhook the straps. I can’t go braless. My boobs are bigger than yours. I can’t dance without a bra. Give it back without the straps. I hand the bra back sans straps. She adds, And the third is not an option. Don’t leave me for one either!

My eyes widen and I mock, When have I done that?

New York when we went out with my aunt. You left me for the lead singer of a band.

Ginny was with you. If it makes you feel better, he was a complete disappointment. Total false advertising. I cringe at the memory.

Lizzy pulls the strappy stilettos on and huffs. Not really. If sleeping around with random guys makes you happy, go ahead. Not my cuppa tea. Let’s get this night over with. We head out to start our bar crawl.

By the time we make it to the third bar—Whiskey Tango Foxtrot—both of us are buzzed. My bestie’s angelic face scowls at me while I’m slowly and seductively moving my ass up the slacks-covered thighs of the guy I’m dancing with. He’s normally not my type—Wall Street business types are wound waaaay too tight for me. But I’m equal opportunity. He’s cute enough and the man can dance.

Lizzy is still giving me that look. I hate that look. The look that tells me one of two things: One—I’ve said or done something while drinking that’s pissed her off. Or two—some asshat has hit on her and won’t take a hint she’s not interested. I know her too well. Option number two is most likely the winner tonight. Clubbing is not her thing, but she comes to protect me from... well, myself. I wouldn’t trust me either. Drunk me will say and do inappropriate things, like have sex in the club bathroom with my ex-boyfriend/bartender. Never again. Sadly, it wasn’t even worth the five minutes.

You need to meet new people. Find that fling Aunt Ginny told you find. Loosen up. Let your hair down, I coax and flash her a huge grin.

Lizzy is wearing one of my black leather miniskirts and a low-cut sparkly tank top with sexy lace-up, heeled boots that stop below her knees. I’m rockin’ a slinky, midnight blue halter dress that leaves little to the imagination.

Normally, I would ditch Lizzy for a meaningless hookup or disappear for a quickie in the restroom. Tonight, that just doesn’t appeal to me. Don’t get me wrong, if I find a hottie, I’m bringing him home.

Lizzy seems more frazzled than usual. This has never been her thing. She usually comes to appease me and babysit my big mouth. Like I said, I tend to say and do inappropriate things when smashed out of my mind. I have gotten into fights, both verbal and physical, when plastered cause my mouth has a mind of its own.

Let’s go. You’re beyond drunk. I don’t want to carry your butt up the stairs again, she says, rolling her eyes at the hunk checking us both out. No, he’s not even good looking. I probably should listen to her, but I never do.

Smiling above her shoulder at the hunk heading our way, I add, Ok, but first... I push Lizzy toward the brown-eyed stud that would definitely loosen her up... if she would let him. Though, she won’t. She doesn’t believe in casual hookups or one-night stands, while I’m the queen of them. Does that stop me from trying? Nope.

She’s the yin to my yang. My peanut butter to marshmallow. My glue to glitter. My soulmate.

Watching the hunk chat up Lizzy makes me want to find someone for myself. Until... the hunk puts his hands on her ass.

Lizzy goes stiff as a board and plasters a fake smile on her face. I know she wants to dropkick his ass for being so forward. I like that in a guy, but she doesn’t. There are certain places she doesn’t like to be touched, especially only knowing the guy for like five seconds—ok, three minutes. But still. I’m giving him one more minute to move his hand before I walk over and pretend we’re lovers. What? I may have done that a time or two—ok, numerous times—just to chase guys off. Only sometimes they think we want a threesome. I mean, really?

Hey, gorgeous. I barely acknowledge the muscled-up brunette who barely fits into his shirt. Normally, I would ogle his muscles busting out from his shirt. But I gotta watch my girl. Lizzy sighs and sips her lime and club soda. She quit drinking about an hour ago. She’s so responsible. I should be more like her, but instead, I did shots with a bunch of guys renting a house down the road from us. Lizzy rolls her lips inward while the stud leans in to whisper in her ear. She’s not laughing or flirting, being her polite self. He probably thinks she’s into him.

Do you want another drink? Or dance? Mr. Muscles asks, standing directly in front of me and blocking my view of Lizzy. I really should stop drinking. But where’s the fun in that? My flirting continues.

My response to Mr. Muscles is Sure. A cranberry vodka, please. I head over to the bar with him cause a girl can’t be careless with her drinks. Mr. Muscles hands me the drink from the bartender. I flirt and touch his oh-so-incredible biceps while chatting him up about his physique. I mean, da-a-a-amn. His arms are huge, something that makes my hands look tiny.

Come dance with me, he requests.

My lower lip juts out as I contemplate my next move. Looking around the bar is when I realize what a horrible friend I am for not checking on Lizzy. Shit, she will kill me even though I’ve only been gone for two songs. She’s sitting at a table and is on her phone, and I ditch the muscled-up brunette for my bestie, who looks completely miserable.

Hey... sorry ‘bout that. I use my pouty face to soften the blow, wrapping her in my arms and hoping she forgives me for ditching her. So... did you get his number? I ask. She loops her arms in mine and we head out.

She raises her eyebrows, showing I’m outta my mind for even asking. I should know better since the bar scene isn’t her thing. You know... never mind. Lizzy storms off down the street toward her aunt’s super awesome beach house. If I was gay, I would be all over Lizzy. Unfortunately, I love the D. I need a male version of her. I should get on that.

No, you don’t. I wouldn’t date you even if we were both gay and you were the last person on Earth. You are too much sometimes. And a complete ho. Not my type. You only say things like that when you’re drunk. Lizzy snarks and smirks at me. Guess I said all of that aloud. Whoops. Yeah, you did. I still love you. I’m just tired and didn’t want to come out tonight. I mean... She trails off as we cross the street toward the beach.

Lizzy continues. I’m not looking forward to working for my aunt and grandfather, she admits. We stop on the front steps, and she plops down, crossing her long legs across three steps. I lay my head on her shoulder and think about all the what ifs.

I know. I must still say everything instead of thinking it.

Lizzy chuckles. You’re still thinking aloud. You always have, especially when you’re drunk. No sensor. That’s why I was shocked when you said you wanted to be a teacher. Boy, do they need to sensor. That’s not you. She points her finger at me.

I whisper, Who’s gonna keep me outta trouble? I can’t be left to my own devices. I’m a danger to society. I look toward the ocean kissing the shoreline.

Instead of laughing at my joke, we both sit quietly and mope together. I’m glad your aunt is letting us stay here. One last hurrah before acting like real adults, I say, gazing at Lizzy.

She pulls me up. Let’s go pass out, she says, smirking in my direction. I hang my head, knowing she’s right. I hate it. She knows it. This is why we are perfect for each other.

She shakes her head. You crack me up. Maybe I should’ve let that dorky guy in the horrible suit take you home. It woulda served you right. Night, hussy. Lizzy heads inside to her bedroom.

Night, hun. I sit on the steps for a few more minutes before heading to my room and passing out.

The next morning starts our new routine with both of us on the back deck watching the morning runners jog up and down the beach. One of the many perks to Ginny’s beach house is that it’s literally right on the beach. The floor-to-ceiling windows in the living room showcase the waves slapping the beach. Every morning, we drink our coffees on the deck, looking for some eye candy to start our day. Even though Ginny pays us to house sit, we still have part-time jobs since neither of us can sit still for long. Plus, we both like to drink. Me more so than Lizzy, though she can take down a bottle of Jose Cuervo by herself.

We have also noticed that many of the other beach houses are rentals. Every so often, we invite our short-term neighbors over. Sometimes we have blow-out parties. Other times, a dinner party or simply a bonfire.

While Lizzy has her life together, I’m far from having my crap together. She graduated summa cum laude in Accounting with a CPA exam to take in October. I have a bachelor’s degree in education. It sounds like a great achievement, but I realized at the end of my student teaching that I don’t like kids. I don’t have the patience or the passion for it. Teachers should love their job. I’m indifferent. I figured my mother would freak when I told her I wouldn’t be using the degree she paid for. Instead, she told me to find my passion. It’s only money. My mother isn’t normal on so many levels.

Each night, I go up to the terrace by my room and think about what I want and look back on my decisions. A few of our college friends would say this is out of character for me, but it’s not. I keep a journal and reflect a lot. But I’m also that loud, obnoxious person that doesn’t know how to shut up or when to quit. Lizzy has had to drag me out of places many times for running my mouth. I have a problem.

See any cute guys yet? I ask Lizzy.

She barely looks up from her steamy novel and says, Nah, mostly old guys today. Yesterday, a few. Did you notice two of the houses down the way have new tenants?

What kind of tenants? That family of seven was annoying. The two-year-old kept eating the sand and the mom let him. Oh, and that super religious couple who wanted to ‘save’ you? I mean, I would get it with me. I probably am going to Hell. But you? Miss Goody Two-shoes? Please, I comment and peel the banana I brought out to eat.

Lizzy agrees and rolls her eyes. True, since I go to church most Sundays and when I go home for visits. When was the last time you even saw the inside of a church?

When was the last time I went home with you?

Anyway, one looks like a small family. The other, I have no idea. Haven’t seen them. Just the lights on at the house.

Well, hopefully we get some eye candy for the beach. I giggle and wiggle my eyebrows, head inside to throw my banana peel away, and hop in the shower before heading to the bagel shop where I work.

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TWO AND A HALF MONTHS of relaxing in the sun. Lucky for me, it was my turn to pick the destination—thank fucking God for that. I love my friends, but sometimes they can be too much. Spelunking in Spain, hiking through the rainforest in Brazil, and how can I forget the time they wanted to run with fucking bulls? Bulls! I didn’t do the last one—neither did they. Evidently, not just anyone can run with bulls. Thank God. But we watched it and got plastered off our asses.

I wanted this vacation to be more relaxing, especially since I’ve spent the last eighteen months getting my ass shot at in the Middle East. I say Middle East because my unit was in four different countries during this deployment, which sucks by the way. I much prefer to stay in one FOB (forward operating base), hell, even one country. Before that, I was trying to fix a dam—literally a dam in the middle of a hurricane. And I’m not a water engineer! Not fun times. But that’s what I signed up for when I raised my hand and signed on the dotted line almost ten years ago.

Last week, I re-enlisted for another four years right after they promoted me to E-8 master sergeant, and in rare cases, first sergeant. I haven’t told anyone about my promotion yet. Normally, Bly knows right away since we were in the same unit together for most of our contracts, but they sent his squad to Germany while mine went to the sandbox. I haven’t seen Bly, Sanders, or Thornton for six months, as normal people/civilians call them—Josh, Brody, and Tommy.

I met all three at my first duty station, and all have been my soldiers at some point. Bly was the first. He came to the unit four years after I did. Now, he’s two ranks below me. Sanders and Thornton are still specialists and continue to fuck up so much that Bly and I need to ride their asses to straighten them out. I love those guys, but they have a habit of pissing me off.

The three of them have labeled me with a few colorful names—Sarge, old man, and Auggie are the three most popular. The sad part is that I’m younger than Thornton by two years! Old man, my ass. I like to be precautious to ensure the safety of my men, even when the dumb fuckers are being stupid as fuck. Auggie is due to my last name—St. Augustine.

I rented a brown flat board beach house right on the beach about thirty minutes from Wilmington, North Carolina. The best part is, we’re less than two hours from my next duty station—Fort Bragg. I will need to make trips back and forth periodically to transition and in-process. Bly will need to do the same thing as he received new orders for the same duty station. At least I’ll have one of my guys with me again.

I can see myself relaxing here—from taking walks out on the beach and drinking coffee on the deck to people-watching. There are beach volleyball nets set up a few houses down. Up the road is a place where we can rent jet skis, windsurfing equipment, and other water sports gear. The guys will love that. I scheduled a few days for us to go deep-sea fishing.

The women on this beach are gorgeous. I’m not looking for a hookup, but the other three always are. I’m the wingman. The sweet guy girls trust but never date. No, they go after the bad boys like Thornton and Sanders or the pretty boys like Bly. No one wants the all-American boy next door when the pretty boy and bad boys are around.

I’m more of a commitment kind of guy, anyway. I want someone to come home to. Someone to Netflix and relax with—not to be confused with the Netflix and chill that Thornton and Sanders usually partake in. I want to watch Netflix and relax with a girl. To hold her. Love her. Someone who will be there when I return from deployments and training exercises. Until I find her, I’ll relax and forget about the hell I endured during my last deployment. The last one was a complete shitshow.

Holy hell, man. Did you see the view from our deck? Thornton hollers from the deck railing.

Bly places a box on the kitchen island. Ten bucks says he won’t be home tonight, he deadpans.

I shake my head because we both know it’s true. I respond without looking up from putting groceries in the fridge. Sanders won’t be far behind him. I’m seriously surprised that we haven’t had to counsel either of them for being pussy-obsessed or for sexual harassment.

Bly laughs. That’s because they only act like pussy-obsessed little shits when we leave base. They know better while on duty. They give a shit about their careers to fuck them up over a piece of ass. He takes his duffel into one bedroom, probably the one we’ll be sharing. We always share a room since the two dipshits always bring women back, thus needing their own rooms. If Bly brings a woman back, I’ll sleep on the sofa for the night. He would do the same for me.

Thornton drags in the last of our stuff from the SUV. We need to party tonight. Auggie needs to get wasted after his deployment, we all know he hasn’t been plastered since he returned. And God only knows the last time he got laid! I bet he’s been working his NCO ass off, Thornton says and looks at me for confirmation. He’s right, but I’m not giving the fucker the satisfaction of admitting it.

There was a huge welcome home party... the single soldiers all went down to the strip club— I start to respond but am interrupted by Sanders.

Yeah, but you were probably in your office working while everyone else was partying. So... we’re finding you someone to get on top of... or under, whatever. Sanders ponders and adds, Auggie, when was the last time you saw a pussy, let alone were in one? I mean, you’re becoming a monk.

I flip them all off. They know I don’t do one-night stands. I do agree, though, that we need to blow off some steam. Unlike them, I won’t go home with a nameless woman. I agree and say, Let’s find a bar so I can carry Sanders home in a few hours since he’s a lightweight.

Did you guys see the hotties a few doors down on their deck? I will tap that. A promise. A guaran-fucking-tee, Thornton hollers and tosses a Nerf football to Sanders. Those two will never grow up. I hope those girls are smart enough to stay away from these two, especially since we will be here for most of the summer. The last thing I need are issues from my neighbors. I guess a month and half isn’t short term for beach rentals. Time is different for soldiers than for civilians.

Just remember, we still need to go for a run in the morning... or in Sanders’ case—afternoon, Bly reminds the group. I love that Bly picks on them as much as I do. Bly loves running. He was some hot-shot runner in high school, even had a full ride, but gave it up for the Army. Occasionally, I will run with him. I need to stay in shape for our PT tests. He keeps after all of us about fitness... even on vacation.

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Everyone is hungover the next morning, but I do remember we went for a pub crawl down the boardwalk. A gorgeous brunette in a skin-tight blue dress kept looking my way. I hope she was looking at me. But I was too far gone to do anything about it.

Now, I’m sitting on the back deck overlooking the beach, praying that the coffee will clear my head. This is my fourth cup. The first cup barely made it past the countertop before I downed it. The cool breeze from the ocean also helps, as well as the scantily clad women already on the beach. I watch a few—three in particular catch my eye. One constantly falls while the other two are trying to help her up. After the third attempt, I set my coffee down to go assist them.

Ladies, do you need any help? I smile. I want to make sure they know I only want to help.

The brunette drops her friend’s arm. Damn, why does Gina always do this? she says and looks at the honey blonde standing beside me. Shit, this gets old.

It’s your fault! You shouldn’t’ve taken her drinking. You know she can’t hold her booze, the blonde says and tries to pull the passed-out bikini-clad brunette up—possibly Gina? I step in and pick her up under her knees.

Where do you ladies want me to put sleeping beauty? I ask and flash another friendly smile.

The brunette answers. Uggh. Ok, Smiles, let me show you. The brunette wears tiny shorts with rainbows and a yellow tank top. If I wasn’t a gentleman, I would be staring at her hourglass curves. Maybe I’m less of a gentleman right now. I can’t help it.

The blonde walks beside me and introduces herself. Hi, I’m Lizzy. Miss Attitude in front of us is Dee. Well, actually, DeeAnna, but if you don’t want her to murder you—Dee. You’re carrying our new friend, Gina. She broke up with her boyfriend recently. Dee was trying to cheer her up. I’ll have you put Gina in Dee’s room for letting Gina drink so much. She whispers the last part and gives me a shy smile.

Once we’re in the house, Dee disappears while I place Gina on Dee’s bed that’s gray with yellow flowers and covered with a ton of pillows. I look around her spacious bedroom and notice that it overlooks the grassy area before the parking lot. It’s feminine but not overly girly, with a few hints of lace, but yellow and bright.

Dee stands in front of the kitchen island drinking coffee and says, Smiles, you want a cup? It’s the least we can do for carrying Gina in, even if you did put her in my bed. The last bit is loaded with sarcasm.

I would, thank you. You’re Dee, right? I’m Mike. I hold my hand out for a handshake, but she shoves a coffee cup at me instead. She doesn’t offer any cream or sugar. I can drink almost any coffee, even black as motor oil. Lattes and those fancy coffees are not available in the middle of a training exercise or the desert.

Dee smiles at me and offers, Muffin? She holds out a basket full of various muffins. I take a banana nut.

She scoffs. So, Mike, she emphasizes my name, do you always help out strange women? Or are we just lucky today?

Raising my eyebrow, I respond. Strange? I thought I was helping three women who needed it. Nothing more. I pop a piece of the muffin in my mouth and take a sip of the coffee before taking my leave. I can tell this chick doesn’t want me around even though I’ve been nothing but nice. The blonde heats up a muffin and sits next to me.

Thank you for helping us. Someone wasn’t cooperating with me this morning. She’s moody cause she was shut down last night, Lizzy says and flashes a brief smile.

Dee huff and mutters, I was too drunk, not shut down—there’s a difference. So, Mike, again, emphasizing my name.

Did a Mike screw her over or something?

Where do you live? Here or just vacationing?

My buddies and I are here for a few weeks on vacation, then I start my new job. That’s much easier than explaining that I’m PCSing to my next duty station, or in simpler terms, transferring. Most civilians don’t understand that.

A new job, huh? Did you get fired, Smiles? Come on, you can tell me, Dee gloats and gives an evil smile I’m sure spells trouble.

No, I was promoted, so part of the promotion is that I have to move to a new place. Nothing as nefarious as I see your brain concocting, I retort and get up since Dee obviously hates me... or some other guy named Mike. I want nothing to do with that. Even if she is gorgeous as hell with curves for miles. Her long brunette hair falls in waves over her shoulder, those luscious lips spit fire. But once she opens her mouth, the crazy comes out. Maybe she’s perfect for Thornton. Teach him a lesson. Somehow the crazies always want me, not him. Ladies, thank you for the coffee and muffin. Have a terrific day, I add and give them another one of my perfect smiles.

Right before I get to the door, Dee stops me and blows out a heavy breath. "I’m sorry. I was being a bitch. Can I make it up to you by inviting you and your friends to a party we’re having next weekend? I promise... ok, I would promise to be on my best behavior, but I can’t do that. Just not in my nature. I can promise that I won’t be a total shit to you. You were just being nice and I... I’m not used to people being nice, especially men, she sputters, looking down at her feet. So... thanks." She runs off to the back of the beach house.

Smiles, Lizzy gapes and stops me on the deck steps. Did Dee just thank you for helping us? she asks, almost shocked.

Yeah... and the name’s Mike. She also invited me and my buddies to party you guys are having? I question. I’m not sure if Lizzy doesn’t want us there or what’s going on. These chicks confuse the fuck out of me.

She nods her head and gives a small smile. Hope to see you there. Her attention moves to Bly, who’s running a few feet away, heading to our rental. Interesting.

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WHAT THE FUCK, MAN? IS the first thing that comes out of Bly’s mouth.

What?! I act innocent, but I want to know if he’s been running south just to watch those girls. The question is, does he want the blonde, Lizzy, or the crazy brunette, Dee?

The blonde? I’ve been watching her since we got here. Don’t pull the shit that Thornton and Sanders do about not making a move. She’s shy, anyone with a half a brain can see that. I didn’t want to be too forward. She seems like the type that would shut me down if I was, he adds. I bust out laughing and walk into our rental.

I was helping her and her friends because one of them passed out on the beach. I carried her up to their place, which I don’t think is a rental because it is a thousand times nicer than ours. I had coffee and a muffin with two of them—including the blonde, who is Lizzy, by the way.

I pause to watch his reaction, which doesn’t disappoint. He raises his head. That got his attention and answers my previous question.

Dee, the brunette roommate, was rude. But she apologized when I left and invited us to a party at their place next weekend, I admit.

So, we have plans for next weekend then? He pauses. You’ll do introductions? God, this is too easy.

Laughing, I dump the dregs from our earlier pot down the drain and start a new one. Yeah, man, I’ll introduce you. She’s just as shy as you thought. She barely looked at me the whole time. She was more concerned about her rude friend, Dee, than anything else. I got batshit crazy vibes from the friend, so maybe we should set her up with one of the dipshits. Bly nods before heading off to take a shower.

We spend the next five days on a deep-sea fishing boat, which I think is actually a small yacht. Honestly, I have no idea. We were up every morning at 5 a.m. to board a very large boat with fishing equipment and didn’t return until after the sun set. It was incredibly relaxing. We drank and fished. Ok, we attempted to fish. Each person caught at least one large fish. The skipper told us what kind of fish we caught and helped us return a handful since they were too small to keep. But like I said, we drank a lot. I’m surprised the skipper let us fish at all. It was a great time, even if I only vaguely remember it.

I almost forgot about the party our neighbors invited us to. Bly told Thornton and Sanders about it while we were fishing. The dipshits wouldn’t pass up a party. I’m forced to go so I can introduce Bly to Lizzy. I’m just not looking forward to it. At least I won’t have far to walk when I drag one or both of the dipshits back to our rental.

Bly dresses in a gray button-up with his sleeves rolled up and stone-washed jeans. I’m wearing a short-sleeved blue button-up with the top few buttons open, and black jeans. I don’t know why I’m spending so much time getting ready since I’m only going for the guys. I run gel through my longer-than-regulation hair. I had the barber trim the sides and back but left the top longer. I’ll have to cut it before reporting for duty, but I like being able to run my fingers through the top of my hair.

My Italian heritage shows in my jet-black, wavy hair and crystal blue eyes. My sisters were always jealous that I have more Italian features than they do. They have the black hair, but it’s straight as a board and only our baby sister has the same blue eyes I do.

Thornton is wearing skinny jeans with a white dress shirt and