Searching for Beautiful

by Jennifer Probst

  "I am mad!"

  He swam over and stood. "How mad?" he drawled.

  She growled. "Really mad."

  "That's what I thought. Better cool you off."

  She didn't have a chance. With a graceful motion, he loomed up from the water like some type of monstrous sea creature, grabbed her, and pulled her in. Her shrieks got cut off by the slap of warm water closing in. She hit the bottom, and her feet scraped against soft moss before she kicked herself to the surface. The huge grin on his face pushed one vow to the forefront of her mind.

  Revenge.

  Oh, it would be sweet.

  "Proud of yourself?" she drawled, shaking her head like a wet dog to get the hair out of her face.

  "Kind of. Things were getting way too serious."

  His outrageous statement made her laugh. Damned if he'd be the one to let her sulk, even on her failed wedding day. Wolfe sensed when she needed to stew, be depressed, or push through. Right now, there were so many emotions churning like choppy waters she didn't know where to focus. The water helped clear her head.

  Gen kicked her feet, treading water. "Ewww, it's all soft and gooey on the bottom. God knows what's down there."

  "Scared of a few fish?"

  She pursed her lips. "Don't come running into my room tonight."

  One dark brow shot up. He swam around her like a shark circling his prey. "A proposition? I had no idea you lusted after my body."

  She snorted and almost choked. "Oh yeah, it'll be romantic. Me, you, and the big hairy spider I'm putting in your bed."

  The humor drained from his face. "Don't fuck with me."

  She laughed and stuck out her tongue. "Bet there's a lot around here. Ever seen one of the wood spiders?" She gave a shudder. "Furry, with fat legs and superfast, so you can't catch them."

  He tried to laugh it off but she caught the paleness to his features. Damn, this was too much fun.

  "You know what comes with spiders?" he said.

  "What?"

  "Frogs. Lots and lots of green frogs. Like Kermit."

  The horror washed through her. "I told you that in secret," she whispered. A creepy shiver raced down her spine at the image. "You're a horrible, evil human being."

  "I find a spider in my bed, and you'll wake up to a portrait of Kermit."

  "Asshole. I was drunk when I confessed. Drunk info should be sacred--you broke the cardinal rule." She'd had a dream once that haunted her to this day, and was stupid enough to confide in Wolfe after too many beers. She'd woken up from a wicked nightmare of Kermit the Frog faces attacking her. Instead of sweet smiles, they had bloody teeth, and had gone after her like a herd of piranhas. She hadn't been able to watch a Muppets movie since.

  "An eye for an eye and all that," he said. Then dove beneath the water.

  Gen watched him swim, appreciating the raw power and grace of his body and flexing muscles. Awareness trickled through her, but she was an expert at ignoring it.

  Wolfe needed so much more than a quick lay or another affair. He needed a friend. Gen knew him better than anyone, and was gifted with the trueness of his soul. Sex was the surefire pathway to disaster, heartbreak, and the loss of one of her most important relationships.

  No thanks.

  What he offered was enough. No expectations, only acceptance, respect, and love.

  Very different from David.

  The thought was like an uppercut, and for a moment she fought for breath. She'd done a terrible thing, and she was going to pay. Wolfe was wrong. Mistakes ruined lives, and by not following through, she'd let everyone down.

  No. You protected yourself. You know why.

  The inner voice whispered slyly, as if she knew much more and couldn't wait to spill. But Gen didn't want to hear it.

  She swam to the dock and jumped back up, reaching for her beer. Her goal of drunken forgetfulness was the only thing keeping her together right now. Thank goodness for Mr. Samuel Adams.

  Wolfe surfaced, pulled himself out of the water, and grabbed a beer for himself. Quickly arranging the towels over the battered dock, he lay on his back, bottle propped up on his belly, and stared up at the sky. With a sigh, she did the same, shoulders touching, drying off in the hot breeze, watching the first stars poke out from the clouds. The alcohol gave the scene a nice blur that dulled all the sharp edges.

  "I should be on a plane to Bermuda," she said.

  "This is better. Pink sand is overrated."

  "The cake was coconut with chocolate icing. Five tiers."

  "I got you Sno Balls. They have coconut on them."

  A smile touched her lips. "True. My negligee was five hundred dollars of pure silk. Maggie got it for me in Europe."

  "Well, that's just stupidity. Gonna be on for two minutes and ripped off you. Never understood the expensive underwear crap."

  "You modeled them and made a million dollars." Maggie had turned Wolfe into a superstar of designer boxers, which he wore in billboard and magazine ads in place of formfitting tightie whities. Wolfe posed at a delicious side angle wearing simple black boxers, arms crossed in front of his chest, and a moody expression on his face. He was the rebel hottie incarnate. The tagline read F-- Briefs: Wear What Feels Good.

  The United States bucked the curse word. Europe loved it. He became a legend, a millionaire, and the biggest model in the industry.

  He quit after a year to go to college for his business degree and to run Purity. Women still chased him, but he never threw his fame around, and since he was growing his hair and usually covered up his tat with long shirts, many never knew.

  "It was a pisser for a while, but I'd never buy expensive boxers. Who's gonna see them?"

  A genuine laugh escaped her lips. He was so different. David adored anything with the right label, and he sniped about her boring wardrobe and lingerie constantly. "Agreed. But what about sex? Honeymoons are known for endless sun, drinks, and sex. I probably won't have sex again for a year. Maybe more."

  "You got beer, the sun was just out, we're by a lake, and I'm here. If you're hard up, I'll have sex with you."

  That earned him a punch that hurt her more than him. "Gee, thanks. You're a real buddy."

  "They call them fuck buddies. You know, great friends who don't want to mess up the dynamic so they just agree to occasional sex."

  "I hate that term, it's so crude. I've seen every one of those movies and they all end up the same. One of them falls in love, the relationship explodes, then someone confesses their undying love and they get together in a romantic way."

  "Hence the word movie, Gen. Fiction."

  "Some movies are based on reality. Maybe those are, too."

  She felt rather than saw him roll his eyes. "Other than the occasional war film, no romance movies are based on reality."

  She turned over, propped up on her elbow, and stared at him. His challenge sung to her sense of competition. They both had a strange need to win, and could spend hours debating ridiculous points of inane information. "Marley & Me."

  "Oh, for God's sake. I'm removing war, animals, and historical movies from the pool."

  "How many do I have to name?"

  "Two is good."

  "What do I get?"

  "I'll protect you from Kermit."

  "Hardy-har-har. You have to tell me one secret you've told no one else. I don't care what it is."

  She had no idea why that request popped out of her mouth. Gen waited for him to blow her off, and almost retracted her words. But something kept her silent. Probably since her life had exploded around her, she had nothing to cling to. A secret for a secret. Something to make her feel not so alone. Not so . . . broken.

  Arilyn would have been proud of her ability to self-diagnose her issues. As the counselor of the matchmaking agency Kinnections, she counseled clients on awareness in relationships and helped break down barriers that would block their journey to happiness. Of course, knowing she had emotional problems because she'd run away on her wedding day still didn't make her feel
like snagging a gold star.

  "Wolfe, forget it, I--"

  "Agreed."

  Wow. She didn't see that coming. Of course, now she had to find two movies based on real life that had some type of romantic relationship in them. No wonder he'd agreed. "Give me a minute to think."

  He rested his arms behind his head and gave her a cocky grin. "Take all the time you need."

  The lightbulb went on. "Titanic!" She beamed with pride.

  "Buzz. Based on history. Disqualified."

  Her mouth fell open. "Oh come on! The love story is separate from the ship sinking!"

  "You agreed to the rules. No history. Try again."

  Grumbling under her breath, she polished off her beer, grabbed another, and wracked her brain. Crap, there went Shakespeare in Love. Was there anything not based on history? "A Beautiful Mind! And don't try to argue a historical event. That counts."

  He didn't answer for a while. She knew he was checking loopholes, so Gen prepared for a big fight. "Okay, I'll give you that one. Not a bad movie."

  Yes! One more to go. "Oh, oh, The Sound of Music!"

  "Buzz."

  "It's true and it's a love story!"

  "Hmm, let's think about this. World War II. German invasion. Trek into the mountains to escape Hitler's regime. History, baby. Disqualifier."

  "I knew you saw that movie and lied about it."

  "Julietta forced me to watch it and I gagged the whole time."

  She pouted, drank some more, and realized she didn't know too many happy endings. No wonder. They were all fake.

  "Give up?"

  "No."

  He laughed. "Depressing, ain't it?"

  A few minutes later, she realized she won. "Get ready to spill."

  "What do you got?"

  "The Vow." Gen did a little victory floor dance, feeling more triumphant and capable than she had in a while. "I win, I win, I win."

  He frowned. "What the hell is The Vow?"

  "You never heard it? Channing Tatum, baby. Rachel McAdams gets amnesia in an accident, doesn't remember her husband, and he has to get her to fall in love with him all over again like a stranger. It's so good."

  "No way is that based on reality. Buzz."

  She shot up. "No buzz. Look it up on your phone--did you bring it?"

  He reached over the towel, snagged his phone, and began the search. His disgusted look told her he found it. "This is the most asshat thing I've ever read. Amnesia into a love story?"

  She sniffed. "It was very romantic and believable."

  "Tatum is so overrated."

  "Jealous?" He flopped back down and took a long swallow. If she was honest, she'd say Wolfe beat out Tatum any day, but she'd die rather than admit it. No need to give him a bigger head than he had. Damn, he smelled good though. Clean. Like pine, water, and cotton, with just a tang of male sweat to grab a woman's attention. Thank goodness she didn't think of him in that way. He'd always reminded her more of Adam Levine anyway. Tats, bad-boy angst, and a beautiful soul was a yummy combination.

  "The boy can barely act so he takes off his clothes to compensate."

  She hooted with laughter. "Says you." His image blurred into two. The crickets chirped music and everything around her softened and became more vivid. Oh yeah. Beer number four and she'd be good to go. No, it was five, right? Her nerves calmed, and suddenly, she wasn't as scared anymore. So she was a runaway bride? So she dumped the best thing that ever happened to her at the altar? So she broke his heart and made him endure endless humiliation?

  Big deal.

  "Feeling better?" He watched her as she opened her next beer and collapsed back on the ground. The sky spun.

  "Yeah. Snooze you lose on the beer."

  "I think you deserve them. Just don't want you to get sick."

  She giggled. "Remember that time at Mugs they tried introducing karaoke and after too many drinks we got on the bar and sang 'I Got You Babe'?"

  His laugh was infections and stroked her ears like a caress. "That was bad news. If anyone put it on YouTube it would've gone viral. Good-bye, respectable hotel career. Good-bye, doctor in training."

  "David hated me drinking. Said it reflected on him and the hospital. Said I'd become an alcoholic like my father."

  His body stiffened next to her, then slowly relaxed. "You're not a hard drinker, Gen. Believe me, I've seen them firsthand. You had some harmless fun before you became a resident. We were younger then. You'd never do anything to jeopardize your reputation or career."

  "Maybe. But sometimes . . ." She trailed off, too horrified to finish. Putting the thought out in the world might make it real.

  "Sometimes what?"

  She meant to shrug it off. But the world floated above her, beneath her, and she was safe. "Sometimes I wanted to get caught. I fantasized about David breaking up with me and getting kicked out of med school. I craved a huge scandal that would yank my choices from me." Emotion choked her throat. "I got my wish. And I hate myself for it." The shame of not being as strong and fierce as she always believed nauseated her. David was right. He'd called her weak, disgusted at her inability to communicate and do what needed to be done. Every day, he'd urged her to be better, but she'd failed over and over, until she ran like a coward on her wedding day.

  "My mother was a drug addict."

  Gen sucked in her breath. He spoke softly to the sky, as if by releasing the words into the night they'd be carried off to a magical place that couldn't hurt anymore. She remained silent, waiting for more.

  "She'd do anything to get high. Usually it involved starving us both to shoot up, or prostituting her body for a quick blow. I remember once when I was about seven, I got home from school and heard her screwing in the back room. I was used to it by then, so I started looking for something to eat and found some old Cheerios left in the cupboard. When I went to get a bowl, I found her stash. A small bag of white powder tied with a twisty thing. I was entranced. I mean, I was used to seeing her high, but she always hid the stuff well. It looked just like powdered sugar, something I'd put on waffles if I had any."

  Her heart pounded so loud she barely heard his words.

  "I took it down, opened it up, and realized I could be a user, too. I'd be happier that way. I'd be closer to her--like partners. She was happy when she was high, and would hug me, sometimes sing and dance, and I imagined it could always be like that. I swiped my fingers inside, rubbed it around, and brought it up to my nose. I wanted that coke so bad I shook with it. I wanted to go far away like her and stop being so scared and needy all the time."

  He let out a sigh. She didn't say anything, just waited.

  "I didn't get the chance. They came out of the bedroom, and when they saw me with the bag, her client beat the crap out of me. I never found her stash again. Guess she was afraid she'd have less if I got hooked."

  Her insides hurt. Shame washed over her. Even with her past, her parents loved her, and rallied together. Her family was the most important part of her life. What type of person would she have become if there had been no safety net in her world? No one to trust or depend on or love her unconditionally?

  Gen knew pity would make him vomit. He didn't deserve pity anyway; he was too strong for that. She made sure her voice never wobbled. "Motherfucker. Sorry, Wolfe, but I hate your mother."

  A surprised chuckle escaped his lips. "Yeah, me, too."

  "At least you didn't take the drugs."

  "I think I would've. And that's something I never forget. It wasn't strength of will that saved me. Just coincidence."

  She wanted to tell him he was full of shit, but sensed an argument. Gen let his words float back up to the sky with the rest of the stuff. He wasn't ready for a deep heart-to-heart, but this was the first time he'd ever shared information about his past. If that was a tiny piece, she wondered if she'd be able to handle the whole story.

  "Too bad. I was hoping for some awesome sex secret. Like telling me you really are into dominatrix stuff."

  "Sex a
gain, huh?"

  "Must be the alcohol." She finished up the fifth or sixth beer, and enjoyed the heat coursing through her veins. The fake happiness would soon turn to depression, but she didn't care for now. It had been so long she let go of control and did something reckless. "David said I sucked at sex."

  This time, he rolled over. Those stinging blue eyes pierced into hers and his jaw tightened. "David was an asshole and that's why you left. You don't suck at sex."

  The giggles overtook her. "How do you know? We never had sex. I probably do. I'm too in my head, always waiting to see if I'm good enough until faking orgasms became my art."

  Fury laced his words. "Let me repeat. He was an asshole, and lousy in bed if he had you faking orgasms. He messed with your head, babe. Don't let him get in."

  She waved a hand in the air and tried not to giggle again. Oh yeah, she was drunk. It wasn't so funny before, but now it seemed kind of lame not to be able to rock the bedroom with your fiance. "S'okay. I'm not the sexy type, you know? I'm vanilla. Boring. He even said my kissing was like missionary sex every night. But I know he didn't mean to hurt my feelings. He was just saying it to make me better, so I got some books, but it still didn't really work."

  His teeth clenched. She was fascinated by the naked rage flickering over his face, the way he held his body tight as if he was about to explode like some badass superhero. "I'm going to kill him."

  She almost laughed, but then he looked a bit too serious. Gen frowned and reached out. She got lucky and hit vision number one, which was real and not the duplicate dancing in front of her. Her fingers stroked his stubbled jaw in an effort to soothe his temper. Damn, she used to be able to knock back five beers in a night. Maybe because she had nothing in her stomach and it had been a hell of a day. Why did he look so mad again? Oh yeah, because she sucked at kissing and he was gonna kill David. "Not his fault. He never wanted to hurt me, told me that all the time. I kinda made him do it by not listening."

  "You really believe this shit, Gen?"

  "It'll be okay. I'll get a vibrator or something, or maybe take lessons. Kate's mom is a sex therapist, you know. Maybe she can help."

  He grabbed her hand and squeezed tight. "I'm gonna rip him apart piece by piece. You are good at sex. You are good at kissing. Are you listening?"

  She nodded hard. Ooooh, cool. Three faces now. He was so nice to look at, she could stare at him all day. So much better than evil Kermits. "Uh-huh. You're a good friend. My fault though. You don't know how bad I am at it."