Better Late Than Never

  Better Late Than Never

  by

  Diva D. Wood

  Better Late Than Never

  Copyright © 2019, Diva D. Wood

  ISBN: 9781949300352

  Publisher: Beachwalk Press, Inc.

  Electronic Publication: April 2019

  Editor: Pamela Tyner

  Cover: Fantasia Frog Designs

  eBooks are not transferable. No part of this book may be used or reproduced without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations in articles and reviews.

  This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.

  Back Cover Copy

  Some loves stand the test of time.

  After twenty-five years, Desiree Freeman is ready to take a second chance on first love and reconnect with her high school boyfriend Landon.

  Landon Stone, a Navy SEAL, has never forgotten Desiree, even though she broke his heart into a million pieces.

  Their high school reunion in beautiful San Diego provides the perfect opportunity for them to rekindle their relationship.

  The years have changed both of them, and there are more changes, heartache, and roadblocks ahead. Will their love see them through to the happy ending they both deserve?

  Content Warning: contains adult language, explicit sex, and war-related violence

  Dedication

  For all the special people who have encouraged my writing over the years. And to all the Desirees out there…stop chasing after the Dereks and open your heart to the Landons!

  Chapter 1

  Desiree Freeman was running late, but what else was new?

  Rummaging through her large walk-in closet for over an hour, she hadn’t been able to settle on a single damn thing to wear, and then, of course, she hadn’t been able to do anything about her always-fickle hair.

  Oh, well. Desiree sighed as she pulled into the nearly full parking lot of the Hyatt Islandia Hotel on Mission Bay. She was here, she was in one piece, she looked damn fine for forty-three, and she was damn well going to have a good time and forget about her whiny-ass kids, her trifling, good-for-nothing ex, and her overdrawn checking account for at least one night.

  And hopefully, before the night was over, she would start to correct a long-ago mistake. She put the car in park, yanked down the visor, looked in the mirror, and liked what she saw. “Okay, girl. Let’s do this,” she said.

  As Desiree exited her vehicle, she closed her eyes as a memory came flooding back without warning.

  December, 1984

  Landon rapped on Desiree’s locker. “Hey, beautiful.”

  Desiree smiled weakly. “Hey.”

  “Have I told you today how much I love you?”

  She smiled again. “Several times actually. Before school. At nutrition break. And at lunch. So this would make four times today. But who’s counting?”

  “Just making sure you’re on the ball, beautiful.” He grinned. “Are we still on for you coming to my house for dinner tomorrow night? My mom’s making barbecue—or trying to anyway. It should be interesting to say the least. And she’s been dying to meet the girl who makes me so happy.”

  Desiree sighed. There was no easy way to do this. “Landon. About that?”

  “Yes?”

  “I’m not going to be able to make it.”

  Landon’s wide smile was gone instantly. “Why not?”

  “Because I have other plans.”

  “I see.” Landon’s face hardened as he folded his arms and waited for Desiree to fill the awkward, widening space forming between them.

  Desiree exhaled and stared at her shoes. “I’m going to the dance with Derek,” she mumbled.

  “Excuse me?”

  “I said I’m going to the dance with Derek, okay?” she said, finally looking up.

  “I see.” Landon continued to stand there, his features hardening further, stone silent.

  All of a sudden, Desiree couldn’t think of a single thing to say. “It’s just that—”

  “Save it,” Landon interrupted, his green eyes ablaze. “I get it. You still have feelings for him. You have a history, yadda, yadda, yadda.”

  “Landon—”

  “Save it,” he repeated. “Now that you’ve had your little dalliance, your little walk on the white side, your little taste of vanilla, it’s back to chocolate, huh?”

  “That’s not fair,” she protested weakly.

  “It’s not, huh? Then how else would you characterize it, Desiree?”

  So much for ‘beautiful’, ‘gorgeous’, ‘baby’, and all of Landon’s other pet names for her, Desiree thought sadly.

  Not like she was going to deserve hearing those names anymore anyway.

  “Can we just go with your first instinct and leave it at that?”

  “No,” Landon snapped. “I think we’ll chalk it up to ‘a little of both.’ And then we’ll leave it at that.”

  He threw a few books into his backpack and slammed the locker door loudly. Desiree, whose nerves were already frayed, winced at the sound.

  “Don’t worry, Desiree. I’ll live. I’m used to this shit. See ya around.” He turned on his heels and stalked off.

  That went well, Desiree thought.

  Desiree shook her head to clear the unpleasant memory. She took a deep breath, exhaled, and pulled the door open. “Let’s do this,” she told herself.

  The reunion was just getting into full swing; 80s music was bumping from a huge set of speakers, and classmates were staking out tables.

  Desiree needed a drink. Already.

  She moved to the bar, ordered a Long Island Iced Tea, found an empty table, and sat down.

  Desiree began to sip her drink and reflect on her life. How utterly stupid she had been. Derek had been the prototypical bad boy, but he’d certainly had an allure to him.

  Didn’t they always?

  That certain charm. Oh, they all had it. That befuddling quality that compelled a girl to overlook the other women, the lame-ass excuses, the lies—all of it.

  Desiree had followed Derek to college, they’d gotten married, and popped out the requisite number of matched-set kids, and—on the surface, at least—lived the American dream in the San Diego suburbs.

  All of it, every damn bit of it, constructed on a foundation of lies, deceit, and popsicle sticks.

  Desiree sighed. It had taken her fifteen years to work up the nerve to kick Derek’s sorry, trifling ass to the curb. But she had finally done it.

  You can’t live on dreams forever, Desiree thought. At some point, there has to be a tangible reward for all that faith and hope.

  It had been five years since the divorce, and Desiree was in the same boat as millions of other women: doing the single mom shuffle.

  Too much month at the end of the money, and driving a ten-year-old minivan with multiple dents and dings that started when it felt like it.

  But she was happier than she’d ever been with Derek.

  Still, there was something missing.

  And that was what brought her to her twenty-fifth high school reunion.

  Desiree downed the rest of her drink and surveyed the room. Shannon’s Let the Music Play boomed from the speakers, and the dance floor vibrated.

  Desiree smiled. She thought back to high school, when that jam was the shit, all over the radio. She’d tried her best to teach Landon to dance. But like with most white boys, it was a hopelessly lost cause.

  Landon.

  Desiree’s thoughts had drifted back to him often over the past few years. He was the main reason she’d come to the reunion, truth be told.

/>   The result of a well-crafted plan by her best friend.

  Chapter 2

  “Dez!”

  Speak of the devil, Desiree thought. Her lifelong friend, confidant, and partner in crime, Danita Mawhorter, was striding toward her, a shit-eating grin on her face.

  The two women embraced tightly for a long moment.

  “I’m glad you made it, girlfriend,” Danita said.

  “Me too,” Desiree said softly. “You’re one of the only three people I came here to see.”

  “Uh-huh.” Danita nodded knowingly. “Is the other one here yet?”

  “No. But it’s early. It’s only—” Desiree looked down at her watch. “Six-fifteen.”

  “The night is young,” Danita observed, downing her drink. “Unlike us, girlfriend.”

  “Speak for yourself, sista.” Desiree laughed. “Isn’t forty the new thirty?”

  “I guess,” Danita said. “What’s your game plan when he gets here?”

  Desiree rolled her eyes. “Game plan. Listen to you. Sure hard to tell you married a football player, huh?”

  “Oh, step off,” Danita growled playfully. “Answer the question.”

  “I have no idea,” Desiree admitted. “I’ve had twenty-five years to think about it, and I still don’t have the slightest clue what I’m going to say or how I’m going to say it.”

  “You’ll think of something, girlfriend.”

  “All right, you two,” a loud, deep voice boomed. “Break up the hen party.”

  The voice belonged to Danita’s husband, Joe Mawhorter.

  Desiree smiled warmly as she greeted Joe with a hug. He was a bear of a man, six-foot-two, about 240 pounds, barrel-chested, everything about his physique and demeanor advertising ‘military’, which he absolutely was.

  He was also as white as a plate of Uncle Ben’s rice.

  “How’s my favorite white shadow doing?” Desiree asked.

  “Still a million bucks shy of being a millionaire,” Joe said with a mischievous wink. “How about you, Desiree? How’s the single life treating you?”

  “Much better than the married-to-Derek life,” she replied. “So broke I can’t pay attention. But I have my dignity back, and I’m ready to get my swagga on and fix a few mistakes.”

  “You go, girl.” Joe nodded solemnly. “True dat.”

  “Keep it moving, hubby,” Danita said, laughing. “Do you have any idea how silly a card-carrying white boy like you sounds speaking ebonics?”

  “I’m crushed,” Joe said, wiping away a mock tear. He smiled at Desiree. “You going to do the Safety Dance with me later?”

  “Maybe after I’m a little more inebriated,” Desiree said.

  “I’ll hold you to that,” Joe said. “And I’ll see you two fine ebony females later,” he added, kissing his wife on the cheek. “I’m off to indulge in some more lame football stories.”

  “Ah.” Danita nodded knowingly. “The stories that just get better with time.”

  “Yep.” Joe nodded back. “Just like you, baby.”

  “Get out of here.” Danita laughed, shaking her head and rolling her brown eyes. She and Desiree both watched as Joe swaggered off. “What a nut,” Danita commented, sipping her drink.

  “But you love him to pieces.”

  “That I do,” Danita agreed. “This October will be twenty years.”

  “Twenty years and three butterscotch babies.”

  “Yeah,” Danita said with a heavy sigh. “Three butterscotch babies who sure as shit aren’t babies anymore. Tyrus will be eighteen this year, Tyra will be sixteen, and Tyrell will be fourteen.”

  “What was the deal with that whole ‘Ty’ thing anyway?”

  Danita smiled. “Could have been much worse, girlfriend. Tyquasha, Tyquesha, Tydarrius, Tytoya—”

  “I get it,” Desiree groaned. “Sorry I mentioned it.”

  “What about your kids?”

  “They’re great kids, for the most part,” Desiree said. “In spite of their bitch-ass, sorry-excuse-for-a-man, trifling, worthless, good-for-nothing father.”

  “Now I’m the sorry one,” Danita winced. “Any other adjectives to add while you’re on a roll?”

  “As a matter of fact, yes.” Desiree grinned. “We can add ‘unemployed’ and ‘lazy’ to the list.”

  “Enough about Derek,” Danita said with a roll of her eyes.

  “The kids I love to talk about,” Desiree said. “Derek, not so much.”

  “He still doing the baby daddy shuffle?”

  “Every day,” Desiree said. “Getting child support from his sorry ass is like getting a root canal without Novocaine.”

  “Damn,” Danita said. “Now we really do need to change the subject. And I’ve got the perfect subject to change to. Look who just walked in.”

  Desiree turned her head—and there he was.

  Landon strode through the lobby, sporting a day-old beard, his green eyes obscured for now behind a pair of aviator sunglasses.

  The glasses came off and were stashed in a jacket pocket. Desiree couldn’t help but notice that he looked even more muscular than in high school.

  And he’d been pretty damn muscular then, Desiree recalled. Big, strong arms that always held her so tightly, soft hands that were just as adept at caressing her breasts as they were at catching footballs. long fingers that played every nerve-ending in her body like a finely tuned piano—

  Stop yourself, girl! Desiree thought, shifting in her chair as she felt her nipples hardening.

  A couple of other male class members—ex-football players, Desiree was guessing—greeted Landon with big man-hugs. Smiles and laughs were exchanged all around. They were supplemented by a few high-fives and a chant Desiree probably should have recognized but didn’t.

  Some lame, macho bullshit football deal, Desiree decided, resisting the suddenly strong urge to roll her eyes. Men.

  “Whatever your game plan is, girl, you’d better bring it,” Danita said. “I’ll holla at you later. Good luck.”

  “I’ll need it,” Desiree said, exhaling. “Thanks.”

  Chapter 3

  Landon, as usual, was in full command of the situation. Despite the back-slapping male bonding going on, he’d been completely aware of Desiree’s presence.

  But he was determined to play hard to get. For now.

  “What’ll you have, handsome?” the buxom blonde bartender asked, flashing Landon a smile.

  He smiled back politely. “Long Island Iced Tea, please.”

  “You got it.” The bartender winked and turned to make the drink.

  Landon scanned the room, seeing if Desiree was still in the same spot. She was sitting at the same table, sipping the same drink.

  Landon downed half his drink in one gulp, slapping a ten dollar bill on the bar. “Thanks,” he said, flashing a smile as he walked away.

  “Don’t mention it. I’ll be here all night if you need anything else, handsome,” the bartender said.

  “I’ll keep that in mind.” Landon moved to a table where yearbooks were displayed. He began to leaf through the 1984 edition.

  Twenty-plus years in the Navy—most of them as a SEAL—had honed Landon’s senses to a razor-sharp edge. His peripheral vision alerted him that Desiree was out of her seat and moving purposefully toward him.

  Landon turned around just as Desiree reached the table. “Hello, Landon,” she said, smiling widely. “Been a long time.”

  “Sure has,” he agreed with a nod. “About twenty-five years, give or take a day or two.”

  “Too long.”

  “Well, you certainly won’t get any argument from me there, Desiree. But as you no doubt recall, that wasn’t exactly my choice.”

  * * * *

  Ouch, Desiree thought. Nothing like getting right down to it, eh? “I know. That was a long time ago. I was young and stupid.”

  “Affirmative.”

  Desiree laughed, desperate to break the tension. “You could have argued a little bit.”

&n
bsp; Landon smiled. “What fun would that be? But I’ll yield a bit. You were young and misguided. But after several decades of stumbling around in the dark, you’ve come to your senses.”

  That’s more like it, Desiree thought. “Something like that. What are you drinking?”

  “I was drinking Long Island Iced Tea. But I’m done for the night.”

  “So early?”

  “I need to keep my senses sharp at all times,” he said. “Alcohol dulls them.”

  “Keep your senses sharp for what?”

  “Work.”

  “And what do you do for work?” Desiree knew this already from her friend Danita, but she wanted to hear it from Landon.

  Landon winked. “I could tell you, but then I’d have to kill you,” he whispered.

  Now it was definitely time for Desiree to roll her eyes. Oh, brother. Desiree laughed. “How many wide-eyed females have you sprung that line on over the years?”

  Landon laughed heartily. “None, actually. I was saving it for you. I’ve been saving a lot of things for you.”

  “Oh, really now?” She giggled. “Care to share?”

  “Later,” he replied. “All information will be given on a need-to-know basis. You don’t need to know yet. When you do, I’ll tell you.”

  “I see.” Suddenly, Desiree wasn’t feeling as in-control as she wanted to be. She decided to shift gears for the moment. “So, what have you been doing with yourself since high school?”

  “Naval Academy, then the Navy. I’ll have twenty years in next month.”

  “What do you do in the Navy?”

  “Special operations.”

  “You mean like the SEALs or something?”

  “Something like that.” Landon nodded. “Joe Mawhorter and I are in the same unit.”

  “I know.” Desiree winced. Oops.

  “You do?”

  “Yes,” she said. “Danita and I were best friends in high school. We’ve maintained that friendship over the years.”

  “I see.” Landon folded his arms, a bemused smile appearing on his face. He waited for Desiree to fill the dead air.