Chat

  Jason Brewer: It’s hard sometimes

  Jason Brewer: I mean- well you know what I mean

  Carissa Steel: Hahaha I know what you mean

  Carissa Steel: But you guys have a pretty open relationship? She was willing to try all that stuff I sent you?

  I closed my eyes. The next reply from my fiancé would dictate whether I was going to march into the bedroom, wake him up, and kick him in the balls.

  Jason Brewer: I don’t think we should chat about that.

  Oh, I wanted to kiss him. I was contemplating waking him up with a blowjob when I read further on.

  And froze.

  Carissa Steel: Sorry, don’t want to intrude. I just thought that… maybe… she’d be open to, you know, us all getting together some time.

  Did she just suggest that? I had to read her reply twice before I got what she was insinuating.

  Jason Brewer: All three of us? Sure, why not.

  Carissa Steel: I don’t think you get what I mean

  Jason Brewer: Oh- I just got it

  Carissa Steel: I’ve never had a threesome before. Have you?

  Jason Brewer: Once, when I was married before.

  I choked on my sob, covering my mouth. How did I not know that he’d had a threesome before? Why did she know something that I didn’t about him?

  Carissa Steel: Did you fuck them both? And your wife was okay with it?

  Jason Brewer: It was her idea in the first place

  Carissa Steel: Was it another girl? Or guy?

  Jason Brewer: Girl. I should get going…

  Carissa Steel: Sorry, I don’t mean to ask such personal questions. They just come out naturally. Occupational hazard, lol

  Jason Brewer: No, that’s okay. Yes, please send me a ticket, I’ll stop by after my training is over.

  Carissa Steel: Awesome! Here ya go!! Have a great night, Jason. See you soon!

  “What are you doing, San?”

  I gave a startled cry, turning to Jason. He stood behind me, reading over my shoulder.

  “I’m… sorry, I don’t know…,”

  He rubbed his left eye with the heel of his hand, lowering to the chair next to mine. “Have I done something that made you feel that you couldn’t trust me?”

  “No,” I whispered guiltily. “I’m sorry,” I repeated.

  “Are you upset that I chatted with her?”

  “Yes,” I slid the chair back and stood, moving to the refrigerator for more ginger ale.

  “But you told me to talk to her.”

  “I know! That was before… everything,” I cried, fighting the cap on the bottle. He took the beverage from my hands, unscrewing the cap. “You’re going to be with her in Boston?”

  “Not with her,” he defended, narrowing his eyes through the darkness. “I was stopping at her signing before I left. It’s ten minutes from the hotel where I’ll be staying. If you don’t want me to, I won’t,” he replied with a shrug, pouring the ginger ale into a glass for me.

  “No, go,” I spat, cringing at the queasiness and reaching for the drink.

  “You’re doing the pouting thing. Say what you feel.”

  “I feel like I’m going to puke,” I snapped, carrying the glass to our bedroom.

  He followed with a heavy sigh. “I won’t go.”

  “You’re a grown man. You can do whatever the hell you want.”

  “Wow. That’s not fair at all, but I’m just going to let those hormones fly, because I know you’re hard at work making me two beautiful babies.”

  I stopped at the foot of the bed, fuming, glaring at him in the lamp light. “I trust you, but I hate the way she keeps circling back to talk about sex in your conversations.”

  “So do I, and if you’ll notice from reading my private Facebook conversations- which I have no problem with, by the way- I deflected her. Every time.”

  “I hate knowing that you wanted to fuck her, and now you’re going to be there, all alone with her, and- and I-…,”

  I cried like toddler. He took a deep, calming breath, crossing the room to me.

  “Wanted to. Past tense. Not anymore. I stopped wanting anyone but you the first night I was chatting with you.”

  I sniffed, lifting my face to his.

  After a long stretch of silence, I took a shaking breath. “I think Jack was sleeping with someone in Miami. I never told you because I was too embarrassed. I hated to think that I wasn’t good enough.”

  He cupped my chin in his hand. “Oh, Sandy.”

  “If you hurt me, I’d never survive it.”

  “You’ve trusted me all of these years. Why would I hurt you now, when you’re finally mine?” he demanded. “Come with me, then. I didn’t want you to travel, but if you’re going to sit here worrying that I’m cheating on you, that’s even more stress. I won’t go to the signing. I don’t even care about her.”

  “No, go,” I whispered, shaking my head. “I’m being very immature. There’s no reason for me to act like this. I’m sorry,” I managed weakly.

  “You’ve got a bazillion more emotions right now than you’re prepared to deal with. I understand. You and me, San. Me and you. You’re in my blood, remember?”

  He took my hand, lifting it to his lips. His gentle, chivalrous kiss forced a small smile to my lips.

  “You’re too good to be true. Sometimes I wonder if you’re just an imaginary friend that I made up, all those years ago, and I’m sitting in some white, padded room somewhere, rocking back and forth, dreaming all of this.”

  He laughed, sweeping me off of my feet.

  “If that’s true, I hope you never wake up,” he warned, his lips catching mine in a soft, promising kiss.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Jason

  The sales training on Friday lasted for hours, and I was submerged in the land of insurance for most of the day. At lunch, I called Sandy.

  She answered with a soft, panting, “Hello?”

  “Hey, are you okay? You’re out of breath.”

  “I’m working out. I gained ten pounds. Ten pounds in two months is too much.”

  “Sandy-”

  “Before you freak out, I called my doctor first, and I’m doing a prenatal workout that’s perfectly safe. And she said I could keep running throughout my pregnancy, as long as I’m healthy.”

  “Please wait until I come home.”

  “UGH Brew,” she complained, and I heard her drinking.

  “I’m allowed to worry.”

  “I know. How’s the training?”

  “Long. Boring. I miss you. I’ve been trying to get a flight out tonight, but there’s nothing until tomorrow morning.”

  “Well, tell Carissa I said hello, and she’s not hot enough for me to consider a threesome.”

  “I’m not going to the signing, I told you,” I said patiently, glancing at my watch. “I have to go out to lunch, though, with all these trainers. I’ll call you when it’s over, okay?”

  “Jason?”

  “What, San?”

  “I love you. And I miss you like crazy. And I’m going to count all the stars until you come home.”

  I grinned, lowering my voice. “I love you too, babe. Rest. Put your feet up. Shop online for my sons.”

  “Daugh-ters,” she sang with a smiling tone, and I turned my wide smile to the wall.

  “Either. Both. I love you.”

  I disconnected, and Greg, my boss, scared the shit out of me when he rounded the corner. “Jason, are congratulations in order? I couldn’t help but overhear,” he said in a semi-apologetic tone.

  I tucked my phone into my pocket, nodding proudly. “Twins. Due on Christmas.”

  Greg waved me toward the front door of the training facility, and I followed him into the parking lot. He reached into his pocket and extracted a pack of cigarettes, gesturing to the smoking area. “Let’s have a smoke. Off the record.”

  Fuck. I knew where this was going, and I wasn’t prepared to have the conversation in the middle of Boston, hund
reds of miles from home, without having discussed everything with Sandy.

  “Off the record.” I gave a low whistle, tucking my hands in my pockets and leaning against the wall of the building. “What’s up, Greg?”

  “’The chain of authority’,” he air quoted with a chuckle, taking a long drag on his cigarette and exhaling in the opposite direction. “I think that’s the only problem with your relationship with Sandy. Before the two of you march over to the HR office, I suggest you remedy that situation.”

  “Suggestions?” I drawled.

  I’d known Greg for years, and had every confidence that our conversation was ‘off the record,’ just as he’d suggested.

  The tall, jovial man shrugged. “I suggest you and your soon-to-be-wife work that out, that’s all I’m saying. I wish nothing but the best for both of you. Sandy’s been through too much. I don’t listen to gossip, but I know enough to know that both of you deserve happiness. And I’m happy for you. But don’t expect to walk into HR and ask for special favors. I can’t give them to you, and neither can they. She can’t be your wife and work for you. It’s as simple as that.”

  “I know. And I appreciate you talking to me about this candidly.”

  “No problem, Brewer.”

  After the training came to an end, I drove my rental car back to my hotel, thinking about Greg’s words. I wanted Sandy to decide; ultimately, if she wanted me to take a different position, I would in a heartbeat to make her happy.

  I knew several of my associates were meeting for a drink in the hotel bar, and I got there early enough for one beer before heading back to my room. I sat down and placed my order with the bartender, hearing a sharp gasp to my right.

  “Jason Brewer?”

  Carissa Steel sat two stools down from me, her bright, blue eyes and long, blond hair identical to her Facebook profile picture. I groaned inwardly, trying to paste on the most believable smile that I had.

  “Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world,” I murmured, and she giggled, sliding her drink down the counter to take the empty seat next to me.

  “Wait- don’t tell me. Pulp Fiction!” She guessed at my quote.

  “Casablanca,” I corrected, trying so hard not to roll my eyes.

  “Shit. I knew that. Well, it’s nice to finally meet you,” she said, extending her hand. I gave it a firm shake, nodding toward her empty drink.

  “What are you drinking?”

  “A Cosmo. Thanks,” she cooed, crossing her long legs slow enough for me to catch a glimpse of her thigh. Her dress was slinky and black, and the deep V cut down her chest to set her rack high on display. “How was the work thing?”

  “It was work,” I replied, gesturing to the bar tender and ordering her another drink. I needed to shoot the shit for at least fifteen minutes, finish my beer, and get the hell out of there before my co-workers showed up.

  “You’re a man of few words, Jason. But you make them count,” she flirted unabashedly, batting her long, dark lashes. “How’s your Sandy?”

  “She’s great. Home, waiting for me,” I answered, thankful that she had the decency to mention my fiancée.

  “Lucky girl,” she purred, her long, red nails tapping against the counter.

  “I’m the lucky one.”

  She made an affirming sound that almost sounded sarcastic.

  “Excited for the signing?” I tried, and she shrugged.

  “I used to be. I was more excited to finally meet you. You’re way sexier in person, you know,” she pointed out.

  The red flags slapped me in the face, and I smirked, taking a long swig of my beer. “Right back at you, sweets. Well, I’d love to buy a signed book off of you, if you have one,” I urged, eager to wrap up our meeting. “I was just heading back to my room.”

  When I realized that she’d already mailed me a signed paperback, I cursed myself. Now, it sounded like I was looking for an excuse to get her back to my room.

  She leaned in, and I recognized the same perfume that Elaina wore. “I have some in my room. I’ll walk with you.”

  I paid for our drinks, and she followed me to the elevator. The moment the door closed, she gave a soft moan, rising to her tip-toes to crush her lips to mine.

  I locked my hands on her upper arms, pushing her away. “Carissa-”

  “Call me Cassie,” she ordered, reaching for me again. “And what happens here stays here Jason. I’m married. I know I never told you that, and I’m sorry. But what we have is physical, and it needs to happen. And no one needs to know.”

  Her tits pressed to my chest, and I narrowed my eyes, setting my jaw angrily. “I’m not doing that to Sandy. And you just became so unattractive to me that, even if I was single, this wouldn’t happen.”

  She froze, her brows whipping together. “What, because I’m married?”

  I have her a no shit glare.

  “You’re a fucking twat tease, you know that? Leading me on for months, and here we finally are, and you’re walking away?”

  She was fuming, and the elevator door opened to her floor. I reached past her and held the DOOR OPEN button, jerking my head toward the hallway.

  “Bye, Carissa.”

  “Fuck you,” she snapped, stumbling a little in her high heels as she exited the elevator.

  I closed the door, reaching for my phone as it buzzed in my pocket.

  It was the airline, notifying me that there was a seat available. I rushed to my room and couldn’t pack fast enough.

  I was going home to my family.

  ~

  With the layover, it was nearly eleven PM before I pulled down my road. I wanted to surprise Sandy, and also didn’t want her worrying about me if I ended up missing my connection or getting delayed. As I got closer to the house, I noticed immediately that there was a car parked in my driveway.

  And it wasn’t Sandy’s.

  I knew hers would be in the garage. I gripped the steering wheel, adrenaline rushing through my veins when I realized that it was Jack’s SUV parked crookedly, with one tire on my lawn.

  A thousand terrible scenarios went through my mind, and I left my keys in my ignition, running for the sidewalk. The front door was ajar, and the kitchen light poured into the living room.

  I heard the pitiful whining before I turned my head.

  Joplin lay on her side, her fur matted with blood.

  She was panting heavily. When she focused on me, she whined again, trying to get up, but falling back down to her side.

  I felt like I was moving through quicksand. The terrible slow motion of what was happening stole my ability to think clearly; somehow, I reached for my phone from my pocket, dialing 911.

  When the operator answered, I lowered my voice to barely a hum. “579 Chestnut Street. I need police and an ambulance.”

  The operator was still talking when I dropped my phone, edging along the dark hallway toward my bedroom.

  My Glock was tucked between the mattress and box springs on my side of the bed. The clip was next to it, fully loaded, and I slammed it into place before chambering a round.

  Through my bedroom window, I could hear voices from the backyard.

  I flattened myself beside the window, separating two blinds and peering out.

  Sandy stood against a willow tree, bathed in moonlight. Jack was in front of her, holding her face, talking to her.

  She was sobbing.

  He had a gun in his right hand.

  He was too close to her. Her dad had taught me how to shoot, and in a brightly lit range, I was pretty fucking good. In the dark, with my heart racing so fast I could hear the pounding in my ears, I didn’t know what to do.

  If I drew attention to myself, he could pull the trigger. If I tried to take the shot, I could hit Sandy.

  I could wait for the police, but I had a feeling that if Jack had gone over the deep end, that would be the one thing that would set him off.

  “Jack, please,” Sandy sobbed.

  Moving through my bedroom, I
walked through the kitchen, trying not to look at Joplin. She wasn’t whining anymore, and grief threatened to take over. I remained focused on Sandy’s cries, thankful that the door between the garage and the backyard was open.

  “Just come with me. Come with me, and I’ll forget this ever happened. You shouldn’t have left and got him involved.”

  “Please just put the gun away,” she begged. “I’ll go with you, I’ll do anything you ask. Please Jack.”

  “If I knew he wasn’t here, I wouldn’t have brought it. I didn’t mean to shoot the dog. Fuck, Alexandra,” he moaned.

  His hand slid over her waist, and I nearly lost control. Knowing that she was pregnant only escalated the entire situation even more.

  “Just please put it down, please, don’t touch me,” she cried, flattening her back against the tree. “Jack, I’m pregnant, I’m pregnant,” she sobbed, covering her stomach protectively.

  He pulled back, blinking, stunned.

  “Pregnant? You and- and him?” he demanded. I could hear the anger rising in his voice, and I lifted my gun, aiming in his direction.

  “Yes… yes, but I’ll go with you, if you just put away the gun, please,” she cried hysterically.

  He cocked the pistol.

  I had to move. He was going to snap, and if I did nothing to try and stop him, I’d never forgive myself.

  I felt movement behind me, and Joplin limped between us, forcing a growling bark.

  Jack turned suddenly, and Sandy dropped to a crouching position, covering her head.

  I aimed and pulled the trigger.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Sandy

  Jack was on the ground, and I was in Jason’s arms.

  “Are you okay? Sandy? Talk to me,” Jason was begging.

  I stared at Jack’s body in horror, watching the blood soak the front of his shirt. “Did you kill him? Oh God… Joplin,” she sobbed, running for the German shepherd.

  He held me back, and I was locked in his arms. “No, she’ll bite, just stay here. Let me hold you. Let me hold you,” he breathed, his hands circling over my stomach. “Just stay calm. Come around the house with me. To the driveway. Sandy.”