I’d just gotten a bottle of water from the kitchen when the doorbell rang. It was about three. I opened the door to find an attractive man dressed in black jeans and a gray muslin shirt, standing on our front porch. His smile alone made me understand how Jenise had fallen under his spell.
“You must be Sean." I extended my hand. "Nice to meet you.”
Sean had incredible big, brown eyes, long eyelashes, and a lean, well-proportioned body. His dark hair was short and thick, and framed his high forehead.
“Same here.” He shook my hand. “Sean Taylor.”
“Nicky. Come in.” I stepped aside to let him walk through.
“Your sister brags about you so much that I feel like I already know you.”
“Likewise, she’s—”
“There's my Baby!” My sister shouted from the top of the stairs. She seemed to glide into Sean’s arms.
“Wow!" I exclaimed. "You look beautiful, sis.”
Dressed in skintight white pants, black heels, and a low-cut, sleeveless, shiny black shirt, Jenise was stunning.
“Thanks!” Jenise barely looked at me. She was only interested in her striking boyfriend. After they kissed, she took his hand. The time had come for the two of them to meet the judge and jury that waited in the kitchen.
“Good luck, you guys,” I offered hopefully.
“Thanks!” When my sister turned to answer me, she never took her eyes off of her sweetheart. She was radiant.
Just after they walked into the kitchen, the doorbell rang again. This time I opened it to find a delivery woman with a box and a bouquet of flowers. I signed her tablet and closed the door. The flowers had a card tucked into the tissue paper surrounding them. It was addressed to my mother.
“I’m sorry to interrupt.” I peeked into the kitchen. “Mom, can you come out here a minute? A delivery came for you."
She stepped into the hallway with me.
“Here," I handed her the flowers. When she peeked at the card, her expression warmed. I couldn’t wait to hear her read it. “What does it say?” I asked impatiently.
When I'd gotten my flowers on prom day, Mom had also been anxious to know what my card read. I’d brushed her off. The memory made me realize how I'd chosen my own codependent path, burying myself in anything but my family.
My chest tightened as I thought about that moment.
She read it to herself first and then said, “For a woman as lovely as her daughter—Ryan.” She turned to face me. “Remember when I told you that you'd have to make your own decision about him?"
“Uh-huh.”
“He doesn’t miss much, does he?” Mom questioned.
“No.” If you only knew . . . he’s murder!
I picked up the large box with my name on it and headed up to my room. Looking back quickly, I saw her bury her nose in the bright yellow roses. An obvious melancholy swept through her. I set the box on the step and walked downstairs.
“It’s been years since I’ve gotten flowers." Her eyes glistened with tears.
“Now you understand, Mom.” Although she had difficulty putting her arms around me when I needed her, I couldn’t help but give her a hug.
She nodded and carried the flowers into the kitchen.
I took the box up to my room, set it on the bed, and opened it. A card on top of the delicate paper read: This is so you don’t have to borrow clothes from your sister. If you’d rather not wear them, it’s okay, Love, Ryan.
Carefully, I folded the paper into a square and tucked it into my journal. In the box were a pair of flat, black ankle boots, a black knit top with long sleeves, dark blue jeans, and a matching short denim jacket with rounded edges. It came to my waist. I smiled as I considered how in tune Ryan was with my style.
I’m training him well. Or is he training me?
There was a smaller box that contained a pair of diamond-shaped emerald earrings; they matched the necklace he had bought for me earlier in the week.
You had this planned all along. What a sneaky boyfriend.
Still sleepy because of the dramatic events over the last few days, I needed to take a nap before we left so I'd have enough energy to last the evening. Ryan wasn’t supposed to pick us up for three more hours, so I laid the clothes on my bed, turned on some music, and dozed off. In what seemed like only a few minutes, my sister knocked on my bedroom door.
“Nick!”
“Yeah?” I said with a sleepy voice.
“Are you ready?” She barged in unapologetically. “It’s six o’clock. Ryan is on his way.”
“I just need a few minutes.” As I focused, I noticed that every part of her outfit, makeup, and hair was in place.
“Make sure you do yourself up right. This isn't a night for innocence and daisies,” she said boldly. "We're going to have a few beers and rock out! Take more than a few minutes, for God’s sake. Do you need any help?”
I winced at her comment about having a few beers and hoped that was all she planned to have.
“Ryan sent me an outfit—look. Isn’t that romantic?”
“Does it fit?” My sister teased, watching me put on the jeans.
“Oh, man, I can hardly . . . let’s see, if I squeeze this way—there. Damn, they’re tight. I can hardly breathe. My damn ass—I have such a hard time finding pants.”
“Gee, I wonder why Ryan got that size,” she giggled. “Probably to get a good view of that gorgeous ass.”
“You really don’t think that, do you?” I asked with a look of panic. “He wouldn’t, would he?”
“Uh, no, not your sweet little Ryan,” she mimicked.
I was embarrassed at the thought and looked away.
He wouldn’t be this bold so soon. We just agreed after our long talk this morning to take it slow. He probably just misjudged the size, that’s all.
“Sean and I suggested we go a movie first. Afterward, we’ll all go to the Waterfront Café. You know, that club near the ballpark? They’ve got live music tonight. How does that sound?”
“When did you guys decide all this?” I fastened one of the emerald earrings.
“Wednesday, when you and Ryan went out. What happened that night, anyway? Something wasn’t right.”
“I’ll tell you about it later.” I didn’t want to talk about our drama. “What if they won’t let me in tonight? Wouldn’t that be embarrassing?” Damn, more dancing. “I’d have to take a cab home while you guys have your fun.”
“You didn’t have a problem at Gary’s, did you?” Jenise reminded me.
“No, but that's a restaurant first and a bar with dancing second. It could happen. You never know how carefully they’ll examine my driver’s license. Oh man, I—”
“Nicky, they’re not going to question you when they see who your date is. Besides, if you had a problem he wouldn’t stay without you. I mean, really, sis!”
“No, I know." Would he really stay with me? "Hey, how did it go with Sean?”
“Mom and Dad were a little reserved, but overall not too bad.” She looked happy. “For our first meeting, we’re okay with how they reacted.”
“I’m glad.” It was as if I breathed with her. “I’ll get ready now. Close the door, okay?”
After she left, I freshened up and then pulled my hair back with a black headband. It lifted and tossed my long, wavy hair so it stayed off my face and cascaded down to my lower back. I finished with the other earring and the emerald necklace Ryan had bought for me.
The doorbell rang a few minutes later.
I heard my boyfriend walk in and greet my family. His rich, masculine voice took every breath from my lungs.
Chapter 15
A Double Date With Sis
Standing out of sight at the top of the stairs, I listened as Jenise introduced our boyfriends to each other. I could only imagine their masculine handshake routine and "bro" conversation. Taking several deep breaths, I walked down quietly and stood back so I could see and hear everyone interacting.
“We’ll be
out late, Mr. and Mrs. Young.” Ryan’s hand was on my father’s shoulder. “Don’t worry about your daughters. They’ll be in good hands. I don’t drink and I’m a good driver.”
I wonder what Dad thinks about his comment. Hell, I wonder what he thinks about being touched? My family never does that.
Shades of judgment washed over Dad's face. Still, he seemed to listen to Ryan.
My sister held Sean’s hand. Her eyes were bright; her expression filled with excitement.
Two strong men were taking his daughters out for an evening—possibly into another life.
The days of being subjected to his rage were over and every decision of how we moved forward was ours to make.
Mom looked at the yellow roses, now in a vase on the coffee table.
Never missing a thing, Ryan’s eyes went from Mom, to the flowers, and back to Mom. I could read the satisfaction he felt by the look on his face as he realized she had been deeply touched.
“Do you like the roses, Mrs. Young?”
“Yes. Thank you, Ryan. I was telling Nicky earlier that it’s been years since I’ve gotten flowers—especially roses.”
“You deserve them,” he remarked.
How is Dad handling my boyfriend sending his wife flowers when he knows it's been forever since he’s sent her any? Maybe he never let Mom know how special she really is.
“Wow, you look great, sis.” Jenise noticed me standing to the side. She turned to Ryan, who spun to look at me. “Thank God, you got her something to wear. Otherwise, you'd have seen her running down the stairs in something of mine!”
“Shut up, Jenise,” I kidded. “No I wouldn’t. She’s always saying stuff to embarrass me.” I made the comment to no one, but then again, everyone seemed to have heard it.
Ryan wore faded blue jeans, a crisp looking white shirt with the collar pulled wide-open, black shoes, and a grey jacket. It was accessorized with a sharp looking black knit scarf, untied and hanging evenly on each side of the jacket. He walked over to me and kissed my cheek.
Oh, those lips . . .
Mom and Dad looked on cautiously.
Were they being concerned parents? Or did they finally realize their daughters were at the point of major transition? They'd numbed themselves for so long—had they even seen it coming? Dad offered a simple goodbye. Mom reached for her cell phone to take a picture.
“You can trust me, sir,” Ryan repeated his last statement and kept his hand extended until my father shook it.
“You really don’t drink?” It was obvious from Dad's tone he didn’t believe that a man like Ryan could stay away from alcohol.
“No, I don’t,” he reassured. “I haven’t for a few years.”
Our father accepted whatever silent agreement had just been made between them and we all said goodnight.
“Now that I know you like my arm around you . . .” Ryan's strong arm slid around my shoulder as we walked to his car. It felt natural. Effortless. He was mine and I was his. It was as if the heat from his body flowed from my neck, to my shoulders, and down my spine. I felt the soft whisper of two souls becoming one.
“Do you want to drive, Sean?” Ryan tossed him his car keys.
“Thanks!” Sean’s smile told us he appreciated the gesture. “I’ve never driven a Land Cruiser. Handles nice?”
“Like she's on rails,” Ryan flattened his hand and slowly moved it through the air, visually demonstrating the way he perceived his car's capabilities. "Eight cylinders, 381 horsepower, Bluetooth, voice command, and dual controls for just about anything you want. Look at the screen and the menu will lead you through what you need."
I laughed to myself at the natural male bonding that seemed to form over cars and trucks.
“Sean’s a good driver, don’t worry.” Jenise eagerly scooted alongside of him.
Ryan opened the back passenger door. He waited until I was settled and then slid in next to me, holding my hand all the way to the theater. In some ways, it seemed as if we were starting over. He was careful about touching me, being a perfect gentleman.
“Are you tired, Ryan?” Jenise asked. "Sean told me you pitched. I'll have to pay more attention. Of course your girlfriend fills me in on absolutely everything you do."
"Oh, really?" He turned to me.
Oh, God. Don't start the fire already.
"That's all I hear about. Ryan this and that, and he just got his fortieth save and blah, blah. Anyway, tough game?"
“Uh-huh. I need to rest on your sister it was so tough. In fact, I think I need to sit extra close so she can help me relax.” His grin was wicked. "Maybe she needs to be on my lap."
They all laughed. I wondered what it was about me that was so entertaining.
“I talked to someone in my graphic-design class today,” Jenise turned halfway around in her seat. “He’s just reentered college and said he enrolled in one of your networking groups.”
“Which one?” he leaned forward a little.
“The one for returning vets. When he was discharged, he was referred to SF State because of the support your group offers. When he told me, I said, I know that guy!”
“What’s his name?” Ryan questioned.
“Hal Mesa.”
“I remember him,” Ryan stroked his chin. “Beautiful family, two little girls—his wife is Madeline?”
“Yeah, that’s right!” Jenise clapped her hands. “Anyway, he told me he and his family came to a meeting you hosted. He said you were unusually humble for someone in your position. You made a big impression.”
“Cool,” he said. “Thanks for telling me. One of the requirements of being in the program is having a support network. They bring family members, friends, and anyone critical in their lives to the first meeting. We chart a plan for them largely dependent on the support they have.”
“He’s so good with people.” I couldn’t help chiming in. His generous spirit made me want to brag about him. “You should see him in public, you guys. Well, you will tonight, but he takes his time when he meets his fans. He makes everyone feel like they matter. He’s so thoughtful.”
“Nicky, what a nice thing to say. Isn’t my sister a sweetie?”
“Yes, she is.” Ryan kissed my hand.
I looked out the window, embarrassed that I'd made such a fuss over my boyfriend.
When Sean parked the car, Ryan got out before me.
I scooted on the seat to step out to the curb.
His hands went around my sides.
He lifted me to his body.
My feet dangled a few inches above the ground.
How can he hold me like this?
“I see you’re wearing the earrings I sent you.” He shot me a devilish look.
“And the necklace,” I added. “Did you notice?”
“I noticed." He laughed his one syllable, low-toned, sexy sound, kissed my cheek, and then let me touch the ground. "So, you like the outfit?”
“Yes, but it’s too tight. I can't breathe, the size is wrong and—”
“Oh really?” he winked. “Whatever could I have been thinking? I tried to get something that wouldn't accentuate
your . . .”
“My what?”
“Your . . . beautiful . . .” He took a deep breath. “That curvaceous . . . never mind.”
“You’re making fun of my butt." The nerves in my belly fluttered. “Nothing fits right. I hate it.”
“Oh, baby, there’s nothing back there to hate. In fact it's uh . . . quite spectacular." His tone was suspiciously smooth. “Why don't you walk ahead of me so I can look at it—I mean, look at you. Um . . . watch you is what I meant.”
“God, Ryan.”
I don’t need to hear everything that’s on your mind.
Jenise and I sat next to each other during the movie, while our dates sat on either side of us. I watched how tender she was with Sean. Automatically, she slipped her arm in his, rested her head on his shoulder, and gave him the occasional kiss on the cheek or lips.
“They really seem to be good together, don’t you think?” I whispered.
“They’re in love,” Ryan whispered back. He didn't attempt to kiss or put his arm around me. Although he was being a good Boy Scout, I wanted his touch. I couldn’t wait any longer. After all, even a Boy Scout liked to hold a girl’s hand.
“I don’t mind if you put your arm around me,” I hinted. “I didn’t mean we couldn’t touch when I asked you to go slow.”
Immediately, he lifted the armrest and pulled me close so that I could put my head on his shoulder. Jenise shot me a glance and smiled. We were two sisters on a double date with our special men and another photo filled the memory book in my mind.
“Let’s go party!" My sister stood up as soon as the movie ended. "I’m starving. I can’t wait to hear the band, can you, Sean?”
“Can’t wait, Neesee,” he answered. “I’m looking forward to some slow dancing with you, babe.”
“Neesee?” I raised my eyebrows at Jenise.
“My nickname!” Her whole body seemed to come alive. It was as if she had an aura that glowed around her. “He used to call me Pima.”
“How did you come up with that?” I asked Sean.
“Your sissy was a big pain in my ass,” he laughed. “So, P.I.M.A. fit her. But then, well, she wasn’t a pain after all.”
They’re so sweet together!
“Maybe you can sing a song tonight, sis,” Jenise announced.
“I heard you sang the National Anthem at one of the Goliaths’ games,” Sean commented. “That must have been an awesome experience.”
“Yeah, it was. It feels a little surreal now. When I went through the tunnel it was kind of traumatic for me.” I looked at Ryan.
“I’ve heard you say that,” Jenise commented. “But I’ve never known why. What happened?”
“Everything seemed to close in on me. I couldn’t catch my breath.” I pulled on my shirt as if it constricted my airflow. “Just in time, some nice fellow walked me all the way to the door to make sure I was all right.”
Jagged Heart (Broken Bottles Series Book 3) Page 11