by Aly Martinez
Just as I end my internal rant, I hear a loud whistle behind me. Turning to look, I see a smoking-hot brunette headed my way. My eyes start on her high-heeled knee-high boots before sliding up her sculpted legs and over her perfectly curved waist. I freeze as I watch her full breasts bounce with each step. My dick instantly gets hard, and I quickly shove my hands in my pockets, trying to rearrange myself before anyone notices. Just what I don’t need is for Jesse to show up right now, forcing me to explain why I’m playing pocket pool while staring at some woman walking down the street. That would probably go over about as well as when I cussed at her the other day.
“Hey.” I hear as I tear my eyes away from the woman’s breasts just in time to see her stop in front of me. I glance up and into a pair of familiar golden-brown eyes.
“Jesse? Jesus, what are you wearing?
“A dress,” she answers shortly.
“Are you sure? Because it looks like you left half of it at home,” I respond as my eyes rake over the short black sweater dress with a plunging V in the front, revealing most of her tits.
“Don’t you dare start with me about this outfit. It took me six hours to convince Kara that I didn’t need to wear a red corset and black leather miniskirt here today. So this”—she motions her hands over her luscious body—”was our compromise.” Did she just say red corset and black leather miniskirt? Oh yeah, my dick heard her loud and clear.
I try to clear my throat and shake my head to stop myself from staring at her chest again, but damn, she is showing a ton of skin. Until today, I didn’t even know Jess had cleavage. I bet I could hook the tip of my finger into her top and stroke her nipple without anyone even noticing. I groan at the thought as she stands looking at me questionably.
“Are you okay? You’re making weird noises. Do you want me to go?”
And just like that, my shit life comes crashing back down. I remember that I won’t be stroking anyone’s nipples tonight unless my left hand happens to wander to my own during a much-needed solo cold shower.
“Yeah, I’m fine. Sorry. No, I don’t want you to go.”
“Well, can we go inside then? It’s getting cold, and Kara said it would be an insult to cover this dress up with a coat so I had to freeze my butt off the whole way here.”
“Lead the way.” I give her my best uncomfortable smile and motion for her to walk ahead.
I follow her into the stadium as my gaze once again travels down her body. This time, it meets a perfectly round ass that causes my cock to stir back to life. Shit! Caleb’s right. I have got to get laid.
We walk into the stadium and up to the VIP box. Normally, I would have been stoked to have such amazing seats, but I know the conversation we are about to have will probably leave me watching the second half from the sports bar around the corner. As we are settling into our seats, our personal waitress stops by to take our drink order.
“I’ll take whatever lager you have on draft, please.”
“Just make that two,” she says as I turn my head in shock.
“Beer, huh? And not even a light beer?”
“Are you saying I need a light beer? Brett, are you calling me fat?”
“No, not at all! It’s just that most women drink light beer. I just assumed…” As I trail off, she lets out the most adorable giggle while smiling at my discomfort.
“I was just kidding. Guys always get so squirmy about a woman’s weight. But to answer your question, yeah, I’m a beer girl. I’m sad to report that I’m a lightweight. I blame it on my size. Kara says I haven’t ever built up a proper tolerance. She once created a daily drinking schedule for me, requiring me to drink an increasing number of shots every night. I did it for the first day and puked on her bed. After that, she deemed me a lost cause, and the schedule was gone the next morning.”
We both laugh, falling into our normal casual comfort with each other.
The waitress returns with our drinks a few minutes later, and when I try to pay her, she tells us that all the drinks are free. Damn, I’m really going to hate leaving here after we have this conversation.
“I’m sorry,” I start, wanting to get this over with as quickly as possible.
“For what?”
“The other day at Nell’s. I was out of line. I had no right to talk to you like that.”
“You’re right. You didn’t, but I accept your apology. Thank you.”
She takes a sip of her beer, turning back to the game just in time to see kickoff. Wow, that was easy. Sarah would have given me absolute hell for hours before finally accepting my apology. Jesse, however, just sits there sipping her beer, peering out of the box’s glass windows as the Bears move the ball down the field. No sign of residual anger—whatsoever. Interesting. Okay, I guess that part is over. Now on to the hard stuff.
“Jesse.” I touch her arm to catch her attention.
When she smiles over at me, clearly enjoying the game, I’m floored by how breathtaking she looks. I’m not going to lie—I’ve noticed that Jesse is attractive. I am a man after all. She’s actually really cute. So tiny and innocent. That’s not usually the type I go for, but since I met her a few months ago at Nell’s, I’ve felt some sort of draw to her. It wasn’t a sexual attraction though. The way I feel about her is a lot like the way you would feel for your best friend’s little sister. You know, the one who makes you laugh and you enjoy spending time with, but you tend to think of her as one of the guys more than a woman you would like to see naked. Right now, though, in this tight-ass dress with her long chestnut-brown hair draped across her shoulders, her legs crossed and showing off those incredible boots and faintly tan thighs, there is no way anyone could describe her as anything but sexy. So before I have a chance to do something stupid, like bending her over the seat and fucking her through the second quarter, I spit out the words that are sure to drive her away.
“I’m married.”
Jesse
DAMN! I know I said that I don’t curse, but if the moment your date tells you he’s actually married isn’t the perfect moment to start, I’m not sure when is.
I stare at him for a second before gathering the courage to respond. “Can you excuse me for a minute? I need to use the ladies’ room.” So I can burst into tears in private. Thankfully, I don’t say the last part out loud.
“No. Wait, please.”
“I’ll be right back. I just drank that beer too fast,” I lie as I quickly rise to my feet, ready to all but run out of the box.
“Jess, wait!” Brett shouts as he follows me.
I don’t slow down. I have to get away for a few minutes to collect my thoughts—and more importantly, my emotions.
How did I not see this coming? Caleb said something the other day about Brett’s wife, but I just assumed he was talking about an ex-wife. He specifically told me that Brett was not in a relationship. Last I checked, a marriage definitely counts as a relationship.
“Wait!” I hear as Brett grabs my arm and turns me to face him. I know I’m on the verge of tears, so I avoid his eyes by digging through my purse.
“That’s really sweet, but I’ll be right back. You don’t have walk me to the bathroom.” I laugh unconvincingly, even to my own ears.
“Just give me a chance to explain.”
“You don’t have to explain anything to me,” I say quietly, dropping my hands to my side, abandoning the imaginary mission in my purse. Not sure I can look him in the eyes without opening the flood gates, I just stare down at my shoes.
“Yes, I do. I feel like I did something that accidentally led you on. That wasn’t my intention at all. I think you’re a great girl. It’s just that my life is such a mess.”
“Don’t apologize. You didn’t do anything wrong.” I take a deep breath, finally raising my gaze to meet his.
I have no reason to be hurt right now, but that doesn’t change the fact that I am. I need to remind myself that he didn’t ask me out on this so-called date. There is no one to blame for this fiasco except mysel
f—and maybe Kara for forcing me out of the house in this ridiculous dress. Fantastic! I’m dressed like a slut and out on a date with a married man. This just keeps getting better and better. I can’t even aim my frustration at Brett. He got sucked into this the same way I did. I asked him to the game, and his best friend made him come. His stupid, lying best friend.
“I’m going to kill Caleb Jones,” I mumble under my breath.
“Huh?” He looks confused as I start to get mad.
“Nothing. I just hope you aren’t overly attached to Caleb, because I plan to strangle him next time I see him.”
“I know that feeling all too well. What did good ole’ Detective Jones do to you?” he laughs.
“He told me you weren’t in a relationship,” I sigh. “Look, I’m really sorry about all this. This was supposed to be fun, and now it’s weird. Can we just forget all this happened? Maybe go back in time to last week before I made a total fool of myself? I had no idea you were married. You don’t wear a ring, so I just assumed. Anyway…you can go if you want. I’m sure your wife isn’t happy about you being out with another woman right now.”
“What else did Caleb tell you?” Brett says in a tone so harsh it could wound, causing me to take a step backwards.
“Nothing. Nothing at all!” I backtrack, trying to figure out the reason behind his sudden mood swing.
Replaying the conversation in my head, I come up empty-handed. I have no idea what has set him off this time. It’s probably best if I just cut my losses and leave now. He is already going to think I’m a fool, but the least I can do is not confirm it.
“Okay, well thanks for meeting me here today to explain things. I’m going to head out, but feel free to go back to the box and finish the rest of the game. Please apologize to your wife for me. I really am sorry.” I turn to walk away, only to feel him grab my arm, pulling me to a stop again.
“Stop running away and just let me talk for a minute. Okay?”
Sweet Brett is back, so rather than open my mouth again, I just nod, fearful of the angry ogre’s return.
“I lost my wife in car accident four years ago.”
“Oh God, Brett, that’s horrible.” I gasp, stunned by his announcement.
He doesn’t even pause to acknowledge my comment.
“I’ve never tried to move on from Sarah. I honestly don’t even know where to start. So yes, I’m married, but Caleb didn’t lie to you. I’m not in a relationship.” He finishes and simply shrugs as if he didn’t just tell me something so heartbreakingly tragic.
“I’m so sorry.” I’m not sure why I’m apologizing, but that’s what people do when faced with a death.
“It’s okay. You should know that the accident is a really sensitive subject for me and Caleb. Hence the fight last week at Nell’s. His fiancée was killed in the car that night.”
I suck in a breath and throw my hands up to cover my mouth. Tears spring to my eyes. I can’t stop myself from reaching forward and wrapping my arms around Brett’s waist. He doesn’t immediately respond to my unexpected show of affection.
“Are you crying?” he asks uncomfortably. I don’t care though. This man needs a hug.
“That’s really sad. You both lost your wives in the same accident. It makes my heart hurt. I can’t imagine how that must have felt. God, I am so sorry.”
He finally wraps his thick arms around me. One hand grabs the back of my head, pulling it to rest on his chest. As the tears run down my face, I feel him ever-so-slightly chuckle.
I crane my head all the way back to see his face filled with humor. “Are you laughing at me?”
“Well, when I imagined how this conversation would go, it sure didn’t end with you crying over my broken heart. So yes, I am,” he says, looking down but not releasing me.
I rest my head back against his hard chest, sniffling and trying to stop my tears. “We should call Caleb. I need to give him a hug too,” I say, causing him to burst into loud laughter.
“I think it’s in Caleb’s best interest not to see you dressed like this while trying to hug him. So how about you just give him his tomorrow?”
Not completely understanding but not ready to step out of his warm arms, I stay silent.
Chapter Ten
Brett
OF ALL the ways this conversation could have gone, I never once expected Jesse to cry over Sarah. Yet here she stands, curled into my chest, trying to dry her eyes. I wasn’t entirely sure I was going to tell her about the accident at all. But she kept trying to run away from me, and I couldn’t stand the idea of her being so upset. This tiny woman brings out something in me that makes me need to protect her. It killed me that she might be hurting. The fact that I was the reason for her pain just magnified the guilt tenfold. This whole screwed-up situation is my fault anyway.
There is no way she could have known about Sarah. I haven’t worn a ring in years.
Three Years Earlier…
COVERED IN my wife’s blood, I pace the hospital’s hallways. I’ve become entirely too familiar with these halls over the last seven months. Between all of Sarah’s doctor appointments and her two—now three—attempts to end her life, I know every inch of this hospital. I wish I felt lost here. I wish I didn’t belong. But here I stand, staring at the same cheesy picture of a laughing couple captioned with a lame message about getting health screenings to extend your future. I’ve seen this picture a million times before. However, today, it cuts me to the quick.
I could get every test this hospital has to offer and it wouldn’t extend my future with Sarah. No. That was stolen from me. As I try to imagine a future without her, my body physically responds to the panic I feel in my heart. I break into a sweat and I’m forced to prop one hand against the wall to keep my legs under me. I’m not ready to let her go. After today’s gruesome show, I’m not sure I have a choice anymore.
“Detective Sharp?” I hear the nurse say from beside me as I try to calm myself.
“Hey, Debra.” I look over at the middle-aged woman I’ve met several times over the last few months.
“I brought you these scrubs. I figured you would want to get out of those clothes. I also put some soap and shampoo into the shower in room 228 so you can clean up a bit.”
“Thanks, but I’m going to wait a few minutes. I need to get an update on Sarah first.”
“She’s going to be okay. I overheard the doctors talking about admitting her for a psych evaluation again, but for the most part, they have closed up all of her wounds. I think they are just wanting to talk to her for a minute before they allow you in to see her.”
“Well, that’s good news.” I breathe out a sigh of relief before going back to my selfish pity party.
“Just go take a shower. I’ll come get you as soon as the doctors will let you see her.”
“Okay. I’ll be quick,” I say as she looks at me sadly, her eyes filled with sympathy.
I walk into room 228 to find it decorated the exact same way as the room the day of the accident. I felt so hopeful that day, knowing that Sarah was alive. We had cheated death. Literally. Today, only seven months later, I feel nothing but defeat.
I make my way over to the shower and turn it to the hottest setting. I need to feel something. The burn of hot water might be enough to help me wash away this day along with the blood of the love of my life. I look down at my hands, dried blood still settled deep into my knuckles. I did my best to clean up with the rag the paramedic gave me, but I wasn’t worried about my appearance as I watched them load Sarah into an ambulance—yet again.
While staring at my hands, I notice my wedding ring caked in dried blood. The symbolism of this moment is overwhelming, even for a simple man like myself. Spinning it around a few times, I try to scratch off the chipping brown with my fingernail. I’m too afraid to take it off. Even just for a minute to clean it. In a lot of ways, this ring is the only thing left of my marriage.
Sarah never put her rings back on after the accident. The nurses had been f
orced to cut them off when she was brought in that night. I took them the very next day to have them repaired. I even went so far as to pay the rush fee to ensure that they would be ready before she was released from the hospital. However, when I handed them back to her, excited to see her reaction, she just gave me a weak smile and placed them on her nightstand. The next day, she moved them to her jewelry box—the very same place they still sit today.
Reaching down, I slide the platinum band off my finger. I hold it up, looking closely at every bump and blemish. I never take my ring off, and it shows in its tattered condition. Inside, it is still shiny silver. Clean and unscratched. My breath catches and my chest tightens when I see the inscription.
No take backs. Love always, Danika.
“FUCK!” I scream, throwing the ring across the tiny bathroom. I step back against the wall, sliding down until my ass finds the cold hospital tile. I know I need to get up, but I don’t have the strength to face this God-awful situation anymore. Sitting with my legs bent, elbows touching my knees, I drop my head only to see that silver blood-covered reminder resting directly between my feet. After begrudgingly picking it back up, I move to the sink. Using a damp washcloth, I begin to scrub away the stains. Once it has been returned to its normal worn state, I tuck it into a small pocket in my wallet. Wearing it would just feel like a lie.
* * *
SNAPPING BACK to the present, I realize that I’ve been standing here holding Jess for several minutes now. She hasn’t tried to move away either, and if it’s even possible, I think she snuggled closer. Her hands are wrapped around my waist, my left hand holding her head to my chest and my right wrapped around her shoulders. Despite my mind screaming at me to let her go for fear of leading her on again, I can’t seem to convince my body to release her. It’s been a really long time since I’ve been physically connected to another person like this. I have to admit that it feels amazing. And even more confusing, it feels right.