A Love We Deserve (True Love Book 2)

by Betsy Anne

  “Yes, you are, and you look very happy. You know me: Miss Worrywart. I just want you to find someone who will love you and your boys like you deserve. I know, I know, all in good time. No lectures. OK, change of subject. Jason wants us to have a dinner party, nothing crazy, just a few close friends. We’ve both been so busy lately that we haven’t had much chance to socialize with friends. In a couple weeks, he’ll be slammed with football season, so I have to take him up on it or I may not see him again until spring. You in? I figured we could also invite Jill and her husband, and whoever else Jason had in mind.”

  “That sounds perfect. I could really use some down time with friends. Can I help?”

  “Nope, not at all. Jason wants to do everything himself. He’s so proud of the two of us and the work we’re doing, he just wants us to relax and enjoy. Seven o’clock, this Friday. Be there or, well, you know.”

  I’m looking forward to this. Between the job and the kids, I haven’t had any social time. Even Katie and I usually talk about work, so I feel like I’ve been engulfed. I’ll make my famous peach and pecan pies to bring. Jason loves them so much, I know he won’t mind if I do.

  Jill has managed to secure both locations that Katie found, and that has kept us hopping all week. The logistics of re-modeling and outfitting not one, but two shelters seems an insurmountable task some days. We’re hoping to get at least one finished and outfitted before winter hits. Chicago winters are brutal enough with a heavy coat and a warm home, I can’t even imagine being homeless with children and no place to go. The thought makes me work even harder. Friday comes before I know it, and I haven’t made my pies yet.

  “Shit! I have to get home to make those pies. I promised Jason, and I’m not letting him down, see? There’s a reason my momma sends me fresh peaches all summer.”

  Katie smiles at my drawl. I put it on thick for her whenever I speak of home. She loves it. She drove today, so she drops me off at home just in time for me to get the pies made and out of the oven in time for the party.

  I’ve got flour and sugar every place possible for flour and sugar to stick. I’ve been rushing as fast as possible to get them in the oven and take my shower. The kids are all staying over here tonight with a babysitter from down the street. She walks into the kitchen and laughs at the mess.

  “Hi, Mrs. Kennedy. Anything I can help with?”

  She looks around my kitchen, and I can tell she’s praying I’ll say no.

  “Yes, you can, hon. Order pizza and stay out of here until I get back to clean up. I’m going to run and shower, so if the timer rings will you take them out for me? Thanks!”

  I give her my credit card for the pizza, and bolt up the stairs. I don’t have much time for anything but a quick shower and a little make-up. Heck, my hair’s not too bad; maybe I’ll just throw it in a bun. Twenty minutes later and I’m not red-carpet ready, but I’m presentable. The pies are done, and scalding hot, but at least I’ll be on time. I lay a couple of towels in the bottom of the kid’s old red wagon, and place the pies on top. I had to hold them using oven mitts and dish towels, they were so hot. If anyone sees me wheeling my pies down the street in a wagon I might die of embarrassment. Thankfully, their house is close.

  Just when I think I’m in the clear, I hear laughter. Katie’s door is open, and guests are on the front stoop chatting with her as I squeak my little wagon up her driveway.

  “Mel! You need help?” Jason asks as he approaches me and my wagon. He is suppressing a laugh, but I can see it flicker in his eyes.

  “These are for you, dammit, no laughing!”

  He takes the handle from me and I storm off ahead of him in mock anger. He lets his laughter go and it echoes down the street. I walk in the back door, and see Kat in the kitchen.

  “Your ugly husband has my pies,” I say with a smirk, as she gives me a quick hug.

  “Help me get out the wine glasses, will you? I need to get the door.”

  She gives me a peck on my cheek, and smacks my rear. This is definitely what the doctor ordered, some silly time with friends. There are about ten people here already, all of whom I know or have met at least once before. It seems I’m the only one here without a significant other. Then it hits me like a lightning bolt. This is a set-up! She’s doing the matchmaker thing again. Just as I’m relaxed and have let my guard down, she pounces. How did that not even cross my mind?

  I hear her speaking with the latest arrival, and I instantly recognize the voice. It’s the trespasser from our fundraiser: the guy I found up in John’s room, looking at his stuff. Insanely hot, yes, but not my type. I need more than a walnut brained athlete. I relax a little, knowing that the pressure’s off. No one I care to impress. Anyway, I’m pretty sure the feeling would be mutual based on how bitchy I was to him. I mentally shrug it off, and go back to counting the wine glasses. I hear Katie approach me from behind, and I know she’s going to introduce us. I don’t recall ever telling her about the run-in I had with him. Maybe I’ll let her figure it out for herself.

  “Melanie, there’s someone here I’d like you to meet.”

  I’ll just bet there is. I turn around slowly to add more drama for her benefit. He and I catch eyes, and he laughs. What the heck!

  “Oh, hi. I’ll bet you didn’t think you were going to see me again, huh? I’m still sorry for overstepping the boundaries. I hope you have forgiven me.”

  Katie is staring at me, her mouth agape.

  “It’s OK, really. If I had a nickel for every man I’ve had to kick to the curb, well, I’d be broke. Nevertheless, you’re forgiven.”

  He smiles and reaches to shake my hand. He is nicely dressed, and smells amazing. I didn’t notice much about him at my house that night; I was exhausted. He’s almost as tall as Jason, but not quite. He’s muscular, very muscular, but not in a gross Conan the Barbarian kind of way. More in a natural-born athlete kind of way. Piercing green-blue eyes, and a bit too long, dirty-blond hair. Not that I’m interested or anything. His giant sized hand is still floating in the air, just waiting to land in a handshake. I remind myself that I’m not supposed to be interested, so I stare at it awkwardly. He takes the hint I guess, because he lowers it back to his side.

  “Well, my name is Brian. Brian Eyre. Nice to see you again, Melanie.”

  His name sounds familiar. I don’t know why, maybe I just remember seeing it on the guest list for the fundraiser. I don’t think that’s it, though. I know I’ve heard it somewhere. I turn around to find Jason in the kitchen, putting finishing touches on the steaks.

  “Jason, why do I know the name Brian Eyre? I just met him, and I’m sure I’ve heard that name before. Have you ever mentioned him to me?

  “Not that I remember, but I’m not surprised you know the name. He was Georgia football for a couple of years. I think he was behind you in school. Think back when you were there, remember a really talented tight end with that name?”

  “I do!!!! That’s where I know his name from. He was two years behind me. My senior year, he was a hot shot on campus. Of course, I would have only known him by name because I didn’t hang around athletes at all. About the only thing I can remember was that he had a reputation for being a jerk. Never went out or got into trouble, but always refused to speak to the media.”

  “Yeah, that sounds like him. There’s a reason he developed that reputation. “

  Jason is still talking to me, but I ignore him and go into the garage for a minute alone. I use my phone to Google his name, I have to find out more. Sure enough, there he is. Lots of pictures of him in college, ignoring the cameras, even one picture flipping the bird to a photographer. Two types of stories on him, it seems: The first are stories about his bad reputation and having a bad attitude off the field, and the second are article after article of his accomplishments on the field. I wrack my brain to remember that season, we were almost undefeated, but I can’t remember the details. Jerk football player? No big surprise there. There’s a reason I always avoided those types. Well, Mr.
Gorgeous, you can take your attitude somewhere else. I need another guy like that like I need an oozing hole in my head. I go back in and everyone is sitting around the dining-room table. Awkward.

  “There you are! I was looking for you. Drinks and appetizers are ready, have a seat.”

  She guides me over to my seat, and to my surprise, he’s not next to me. He’s sitting across the table next to an attractive young blonde. I think she works in Jason’s office. She seems enthralled with whatever he’s saying to her. Gag. Really? Why don’t guys see right through that crap? He’s not that intriguing, missy; just drop the charade already. My mood has changed from relaxed and casual, to feeling like I’m sitting on a bed of hot nails. My alter ego seems to want to come out and play.

  “So, Brian, it seems I do remember you after all. You played at Georgia when I was there. You weren’t very well liked as I recall.”

  That came out harshly. The entire table stops talking, and is looking directly at him for an answer. Oh my God, he’s blushing; I’ve embarrassed him. What the hell is wrong with me? Why would I say that? I can’t seem to think of anything to say to make it better. Bitch Melanie is strangling Nice Melanie for control of my mouth. He looks up at me, and appears genuinely insulted.

  “Well, you know college. Everyone has their least proud moments, I guess.”

  He gives a half-hearted chuckle and tries to smile, but it’s clear this always comes back to haunt him. Shit. What is wrong with me? The girl next to him throws me a look that would keep polar bears safe from extinction for the next thousand years. He rises and excuses himself, pretending he has a phone call. I feel lower than dirt. Even Jason is looking at me strangely. I stay silent as everyone resumes their previous conversations. Katie looks at me with a blank stare. She nods her head toward the kitchen, and I feel like my mom is about to yell at me but doesn’t want to do it in front of the guests. We make it out of earshot, and she spins me around.

  “What the hell was that? Why are you being such a bitch to him? He’s one of Jason’s closest friends, and he’s a nice person. I don’t know what happened between you two, but I deserve an explanation.”

  “I think I’m the one who deserves the explanation. Was this another set-up? I don’t want or need this right now, Katie!”

  “It is a set-up, but not for you! I was trying to introduce Julia to him, she’s been begging me to, but thanks to you I’m pretty sure that’s ruined. I respect your boundaries and when you tell me you don’t want a set-up, I listen. I might not agree with you, but I respect it.”

  Oh shit. If it’s humanly possible to feel lower than I do right now, I can’t imagine it. I made a fool of him and myself, ruined Katie and Jason’s party, and made a young, pretty enemy, all in about ten minutes. I suck.

  “I’m so sorry, Kat, I don’t know what else to say. I’ll leave and you guys can finish your party.”

  I slink off toward the back door, go into the garage and grab my wagon. I can feel how pathetic, and hilarious, I look as I shuffle down the sidewalk with my squeaky wagon in tow, like something from a cartoon. I go into my house as quietly as I can, I hear the kids watching a movie in the living room, so I sneak upstairs to my bed. I cry myself to sleep out of shame and embarrassment. How am I ever going to meet a guy when I’m this broken?

  Chapter 12

  Oh shit.

  I’ve never seen Katie this mad before. She is fuming, and ranting, and it’s so unlike her it makes me giggle.

  “Don’t you dare laugh at me, Mel, I’m pissed!”

  Her cheeks are flaming red, and her eyes are wild. I clear my throat and sit up tall as I accept the reprimand for my insolence. She’s right, one hundred percent. Everything she’s screaming at me is right on the money. I was incredibly rude to Brian for no reason. I was a bitch to the girl they were trying to fix him up with. She even told me that Jason was upset with me. Yikes. We didn’t have a great relationship when they first moved here, I think because he judged me for how Chris and I got together. Through their turmoil, he and I became close. He’s like a brother to me. To think he’s hurt too is embarrassing.

  “I don’t know what else I can say, Kat. I’ve said I’m sorry a hundred times. I really can’t explain why I behaved that way. He does that to me for some reason when I’m around him. He’s never been anything but genuinely nice to me, and I’ve been nothing but a giant bitch. I have to make it right.”

  Her face relaxes, and she gives me a half smile.

  “I know it’s been stressful over the past year, and I’m sorry for that. We’ll figure out a way to apologize for you so you can show your face again. He and Jason are pretty close, and he’s a great guy. I have to run, I’ll call you later.”

  She gives me a sideways hug and leaves. For Katie, that’s the equivalent of stern punishment. Lesson learned. Don’t piss her off.

  My head hurts from last night. I didn’t sleep at all when I got home; all I could do was replay the dinner scene over and over in my head. I don’t think I’ve ever caused someone to look so hurt. I’ve usually been the one in that seat. All I want to do is crawl back to bed. I slink upstairs, and bury myself up to my neck under the covers in my cozy bed. Damn! Still can’t sleep. I’m so tired I feel like I’m hallucinating, but sleep just won’t come. Chris used to masturbate before bed to help him fall asleep. Asshole. His poor dick has been used and abused. I giggle at my inside joke, but realize maybe it’s not the worst idea ever.

  I haven’t had sex of any kind in quite a while, so maybe I just need to take the edge off. The boys are at a friend’s house, so it’s nice and quiet. I roll over to my bedside table, and pull my toy out of the drawer. It probably needs to be dusted; it’s been far too long since I’ve used it. It’s nice and warm under the comforter, and I turn it on to a low buzz. I move it around my body, but I can’t get into it. I let it linger and vibrate on my nipples; that helps get the blood flowing.

  Who should I choose as my partner? I think of that hot actor in the movie I saw last week. Just as his gorgeous face appears in my mind, another replaces it. Brian’s face is smiling at me. Whoa. That came out of nowhere. His sparkling eyes are staring at me in the sweetest way. Certainly not like the last time I saw them. His image is a lighting bolt to my groin. The heat becomes intense, and I let my vibrating toy find the sweet spot. My fantasy becomes more detailed. He takes off his clothes and reveals a godlike, chiseled body. His large dick is hard and he’s squeezing it while looking at me.

  I’m fantasizing that he’s watching me masturbate, and he’s talking dirty to me. One hard thrust, and my dildo is in all the way to my hand. The vibrating sensation combined with his image make me come fast and hard. I hear my disembodied voice scream out, as beads of sweat roll down my face. My breathing is fast and deep. Jesus! I’ve never had an orgasm like that from masturbating. Ever. My subconscious mind had obviously paid close attention to the details of Brian’s face and body. Not that a conscious one would miss them, but I seem to have them memorized. I ponder that thought for just a minute, then pass out cold.

  When I wake up, I have to orient myself. I look at the clock and see that I’ve slept for four hours. What a treat! I might have to do that every time I have trouble sleeping. Chris might have had that one right. I feel my face flush a bit when I remember that I was fantasizing about Brian, the last man on earth who would want to be in my bedroom right now. Now I feel even worse. I have to talk to Katie to make sure she apologizes for me.

  I take a shower, and decide to spend my day getting paperwork done. Everything is ahead of schedule for now, but I don’t want to fall behind. I start a pot of coffee, and make a peanut butter sandwich. My head feels better after the nap, but I feel weak from having not eaten since lunch yesterday. If you want to make an ass out of yourself at a dinner party, wait until the meal is finished at least. I grab my laptop and phone, and sit out on the porch. It’s a beautiful day, and the sun is like a healing balm. I close my eyes, and lay my head back to soak it in. I’m startled
by the buzz of my cell. I have a text, probably one of the kids asking me for something. I glance at the screen; I don’t recognize the number. I shake my head after I read it, not really believing it.

  Melanie, this is Brian Eyre, from last night at Jason and Katie’s house. I was wondering if we could get together sometime. I feel I may have given you a bad impression or something. Thanks.

  He thinks he gave me a bad impression of him?? How fucked up is that? Is he really that nice or naïve to blame my being a bitch on himself? I can’t respond, I don’t know what to say. I can’t see him right now; I’m too embarrassed. I hit Katie’s number on my phone; I need to talk.

  “Hi, Mel.”

  “Oh. Hi, Kat. I just got the weirdest text message, you’ll never believe it.”

  “Let me guess, from Brian?”

  “Yes, how’d you know?”

  “He called here this morning to ask for your number. He told Jason he feels badly because he must have made you mad about something. Did you hear that, Mel? He feels bad.”

  Oh no, I hear that familiar tone in her voice again.

  “I know, I can’t believe it either. Is he really that nice or is he messing with me? Why in the world would he ever want to see my face again?”

  “That’s just the kind of guy he is, Mel, he’s the real deal. Genuine, no pretense at all. He doesn’t know you, so he deduced that something he did made you act that way. Most people who know him wouldn’t speak to him like that. Funny thing is, I almost set the two of you up. Jason didn’t think that he was your type, though; too much of a jock. I think you ruined Julia’s night too because he never asked for her number. I think I should stop playing matchmaker, it never seems to turn out well.”

  “Maybe it’s just the people you’re trying to get together. You have the best intentions; we all know that. I don’t know how I’m going to respond to his text; I’m too ashamed. I’ll talk to you later.”