“No, Rose, that’s not it. I can see it in your eyes. I am thrilled your interview went well, but we promised no more regrets, which means no secrets. Spill it.”
I fidgeted with the straw wrapper she had discarded on the table, trying to prolong the conversation that I had initiated with a text. I knew the interrogator Leslie wouldn’t let it go.
“I had a nightmare. They are back,” I mumbled under my breath, hoping that brief response would satisfy her curiosity.
“So? What’s the big deal? I mean, it sucks, don’t get me wrong, but it’s probably just a stress reaction,” Leslie placated as Richard set our plates in front of us with a friendly smile.
I snatched a chip off my plate and chewed on it as I thought over why it was a big deal. Was I making it one by hiding it? “It scared Bryant,” I thought aloud.
“Well, I’m sure that Bryant hates you having to deal with it,” Leslie continued as she chewed on a chip of her own. “Wait a minute!” she exclaimed, holding the sandwich mid-air in front of her mouth.
I averted my gaze to avoid her intense scrutiny as she put the pieces of the puzzle together, “You haven’t told him still! Still! Rose, he needs to know. He deserves to know! Why haven’t you told him?”
Avoiding the inevitable when I confirmed her suspicion, I took a large bite of my sandwich and slowly chewed, watching as Leslie’s eyes narrowed in on me, willing me to give her the answers she was demanding.
Letting out a loud huff I continued, “No, I haven’t. I don’t even know where to begin. I don’t want him to look at me differently, and we’ve had so much to battle through… What if this is that last straw.”
Leslie’s expression changed slowly from irritation to sympathy. “You told Jordan. You didn’t even think about it with him.”
“That’s because my mom made him — aware. And with Jordan, it was different, you know that. Jordan is like my big personal security blanket, and he is easy on the eyes too,” I said, closing my eyes and envisioning his dynamic emerald-green eyes and warm caring smile looking at me, making a mental note to call him and see how the Navy was going for him.
Leslie’s voice cut through my thoughts. “Rose,” she began, reaching over and taking my hand. “You can’t hide this from him, and the longer you wait the harder it’s going to get. I understand not telling just anyone, but he is going to be your husband.”
Taking another bite of my sandwich, I hoped to put the conversation to a rest. I just didn’t want things to change. We were finally happy. And more than anything, we deserved to be happy after our past.
“So, what do we need to accomplish to get you married in two weeks?” I asked, falling back on my tried-and-true art of distraction.
Leslie raised an eyebrow at me, obviously knowing exactly what I was doing, but, as I’d known, couldn’t resist the turn of the conversation.
We spent the rest of lunch discussing to-do lists to accomplish in order to have the wedding of the year that had been postponed after my accident. Soon her lunch hour was up and I needed to get home to look through the welcome packet. We said good-bye and made plans to get together Friday to re-evaluate our lists for her wedding the following weekend.
I had pulled into the driveway at least ten minutes before, but instead of going in, I sat in the car, looking at the beautiful Craftsman home Bryant had welcomed me into. He had found it for me without knowing I’d ever return, and it was everything I’d ever dreamed of with its picturesque appearance, a flower garden I had planted over the summer edging the front porch, and a flag hanging from the column.
This is everything I’ve ever wanted, and when Bryant asked me to marry him, not a single doubt crossed my mind. I had lived the past four years with regrets and I would not waste a minute of my life with the what-ifs and could’ve-beens. I did not want to jeopardize everything and tell him, and I wasn’t sure I ever would.
The house was eerily quiet as I stepped in and set my purse down on the foyer table. I could smell the mouth-watering aroma of the pot roast I had simmering in the slow cooker for dinner. Deciding to take a quick peek, I lifted the lid and saw everything seemed to be coming along nicely. My phone lit up with a notification letting me know it was near dying. After plugging it into the charging station on the counter, I sent Bryant a quick text, asking when he’d be home so I could have dinner ready.
No reply came, and I hoped the silence was because he was busy with work and not still mad at me. My stomach clenched at the thought of a fight brewing between us. I went to our bedroom to change out of the dress into a comfy pair of yoga pants and a shirt. Coming back downstairs, I heard the front door close and could see Bryant setting his gear down.
Leaning against the wall as I stood on the landing, I watched him stand there a moment, shoulders slumped, before running a hand through his short brown hair and turning to lock the deadbolt. He looked exhausted, and I ached to close the gap and smooth away the wrinkles on his furrowed forehead I had seen. Turning around, Bryant started to tug his shirt hem from his pants. His chocolate eyes locked onto mine, making my heart break a little more at the space I had let come between us.
“Hey, honey. How was your day?” I asked as I stepped down and closer to him to place a soft kiss on his warm lips.
A breath of air whooshed out of his lips in a huff, and Bryant shook his head at me. “My day was long. Why was the front door unlocked with you upstairs?”
Biting my lip, I could see the irritation reflected in his eyes. “I didn’t even think about it. I came in and checked dinner and then just ran upstairs real quick. It’s not a big deal. It’s still daylight out.” I reached up to wrap my hands around his neck, trying to soften his disposition. “Go change your clothes and come relax a bit. I just need to make some yeast rolls, and then we can eat dinner,” I added, kissing him again before heading toward the kitchen.
I heard the TV turn on to ESPN, I felt at ease that our night could run like every other as Bryant settled in and caught up on the sports’ recaps. Wanting Bryant to relax and unwind, I grabbed a beer from the fridge and I walked out to the living room to help cheer him up. Delicately setting myself into his lap, I handed him the beer with a smile and saw the corners of his lips tilt up.
After sliding off him, I settled onto the cool leather couch to let him watch his recaps on the gigantic TV hung on the opposite wall.
Bryant bent down and scooped up my feet, pulling them onto his lap and turning me to face him. His hand worked its magic as he began massaging the soles of my feet with one hand as the other held his beer. He returned his attention to the television.
I wanted to keep our connection going, the carefree atmosphere, so I snatched the beer and took a long draw from his bottle, letting the cold barley flavored lager pour down my throat.
Bryant’s eyebrow raised as he gave me a shocked expression. “Did you just take my beer? The beer you brought me to butter me up in the first place?” he asked as he plucked the beer bottle from my hand and set it on the table beside the couch. The clink of glass to wood was like the starting signal for torture time.
In a flash, Bryant had me flipped underneath of him as he pinned me down, grasping me by my wrists and raising my hands above my head. While securing them with one hand, his other trailed delicately down my arm, making my skin tingle with awareness.
Continuing down, he traced each rib of mine as I lay stuck beneath him, squirming to get myself free. My cheeks ached from the smile plastered on my face.
Bryant’s eyes sparkled with mischief as he softly came to the crest of my hip before grabbing hold and anchoring me to him.
His head came down, and he softly kissed my nose, but despite his sensual touching, I saw in his eyes the devious mind that had a wicked plan.
“Bryant, don’t you do it!” I screeched, hoping to intimidate him a little. Placing his knee between my legs, he gently positioned himself between me and rested his weight on my hips, effectively pinning me completely.
“Why,
Rose, I think you started this little game,” he chastised, running his lips along my jawline.
“Bryant,” I chided.
“Rose,” he mocked back at me.
Damn him.
The hand holding my hip squeezed a bit tighter, causing my hips to buck against him. Rearing back, Bryant laughed, obviously knowing I was defenseless beneath his lean muscular frame.
“What’s wrong, Rose?” Bryant teased as he nuzzled against my neck, rubbing it with the bristle of his five o’clock shadow.
Before I could answer, he came down onto the hollow of my neck, growling and nibbling as his hand that had been on my hip worked its way up to tickle me, leaving me a withering, squealing pile beneath him — defenseless against his attacks.
“I give, I give,” I gasped out.
Laughing his carefree, beautiful laugh that made my heart melt, Bryant shut the television off before scooping me up and carrying me up the steps to our room as he continued to nuzzle my neck and place soft, delicate kisses behind my ear.
“What about dinner?” I squealed.
“Let it burn,” he growled as he tossed me onto our bed and began devouring me instead.
My body instantly changed gears for a night with the man I loved with all my heart.
CHAPTER FOUR
THE WEEK WAS OVER BEFORE I knew it; I had been running around like a chicken with my head cut off, trying to get things perfect for Leslie. I felt like I needed to go above and beyond the call of duty since I’d ruined the first wedding. My phone rang, just as I was pulling out of the bakery parking lot to check on her four-tiered cake that had more flavors than a Ben and Jerry ice cream store. After digging into my purse, I pulled my cell out just in time then answered without even seeing who I’d be speaking to. “Hello?” I asked into the phone. Hearing no reply, I pulled it away from my ear to look at the screen. Blocked number. Odd. “Hello?” I tried again, letting my exasperation come across. The call was disconnecting, so I dropped my phone back into the passenger seat.
Heading home to get ready for the bachelorette party we had planned tonight, I went over my mental checklist Leslie had given me. Bridesmaid dress, check. Florist, check. Bakery, check. My phone rang, and I looked down to see the blocked number calling again.
“Hello!” I bellowed into the phone, irritated at the nuisance. “Hello, Ms. Barnes?” A nervous female voice came back over the line.
“Um, yes. This is Ms. Barnes. Who is this?” I asked, pulling in a deep breath to calm myself back down.
“Yes, this is Becky from Ingram Elementary. Principal Sullivan just asked me to call you and see if you had a moment to speak with her?” she asked, her cheerful voice coming through as the nervousness eased away.
“Of course!” I animatedly replied, crossing my fingers in hopes that this was the call I had been eagerly awaiting.
“Okay, hold one moment. Sorry for calling so late in the day. I hope I’m not interrupting anything,” Becky said, letting the tension creep back in on her.
“Not at all. When you had just called, I didn’t hear you, and the number was blocked, so I thought I had some kids prank dialing me or something. I am very sorry if I sounded cross,” I apologized, feeling bad that I had been so terse with Becky. Thank goodness, it hadn’t been the principal herself calling. That would have been embarrassing.
“No worries at all, Ms. Barnes. I forget the number comes across as blocked when I pull an outside line. Hold one second for Principal Sullivan, and between you and me… congratulations,” Becky whispered the last part.
My excitement grew inside of me, taking away the butterflies that had been fluttering in my stomach.
“My lips are sealed. I’ll be sure to act surprised. Thanks, Becky.”
“You’re welcome, hun. I look forward to seeing to back here soon! Oh, and, Ms. Barnes, don’t go ruling out a prank caller yet. I only rang once. I’m transferring you now. Take care.”
Becky’s voice was gone. As the pit in my stomach tightened into a knot, the phone rang once before a tight, stern voice came on the line.
“Ms. Barnes, I’m glad we could reach you today. I had planned to notify you earlier, but we had some issues arise that demanded my attention,” Principal Sullivan began, and I thanked Becky for letting me in on the secret because this woman was brutal. “However, I would like to offer you the job here at Ingram Elementary. You will need to be here for a staff meeting on Monday and start preparing your classroom for students. Do you accept?” she asked with a pregnant pause.
“Most certainly. I look forward to meeting the other staff and starting on Monday,” I quickly answered, trying to come across as professional and happy as possible. After discussing a few questions I had and Principal Sullivan telling me exactly what she expected of me, we hung up just as I was pulling into the driveway.
Climbing out of the car, I let out an excited squeal and did a little happy dance, shaking my hips and prancing on my feet in a circle while punching my fists in the air in celebration. Finally! I got the job I wanted, I am home, my best friend is getting married, and we are partying it up tonight! How could my life get any more perfect? Completing my circle and opening my eyes, I caught sight of our Grant and Leslie watching me from their car parked in front of our house. Damn! They had not been there when I pulled in.
Smoothing my blouse out and composing myself, I half-heartedly raised my hand as Grant doubled over in an all-out belly-shaking, tears-streaming-down-the-face laugh.
Walking up alongside him, Leslie gave me a smile and then whacked him in the stomach, seizing his moment of enjoyment. She winked at me in a moment of girl-power triumph.
“Hey, guys, I didn’t even see you pull up,” I started.
“Apparently,” Grant shot back, earning him a smack upside the head from Leslie.
“Hey! Did you get the job?” Leslie excitedly asked, moving to me and giving me a hug.
“I did! I’m thrilled. I was pretty confident, but still, hearing it confirmed has made my day.”
“Well good. You will be even more fun tonight. We can celebrate my poor life decision to marry this ass along with your new job.” She scowled back at Grant as he visibly tried to contain his laughs.
Once inside, Leslie and I decided to head upstairs while Granted planted himself on my leather couch and turned on the large TV. We obviously kept ESPN in business.
Padding up the carpeted stairs, Leslie ran ahead to get herself in my closet as my designated wardrobe specialist.
Lord help me.
I let myself sink into the king-sized bed. I heard the hangers slide on the metal pole as Leslie muttered to herself, “No. No way… uh-uh, oh my… maybe? My goodness, woman, what are you? Eighty?”
I let out a chuckle. Leslie and I had never seen eye to eye on styles and fashion.
Coming out with a few choices on her arms, Leslie looked irritated at my slim pickings. “Okay, so this is what I’m thinking — although, if I had time I’d run home and grab you something else from my closet.” She let out a long sigh to cement her displeasure as she set out her choices on my comforter.
I pushed myself back up to my feet and stood then turned to look at what she had laid out, thinking she was having me get pretty fancied up. On my bed were four choices. Immediately, I tossed to the side two of them, leaving a red satin dress with an asymmetrical line that went over one shoulder, and a navy-blue bandage dress that dipped dangerously low in the front that Leslie had bought me a few years back for a sorority event. Beside me, I could see Leslie’s smile growing as I’d apparently made the choice she was hoping. I gave in, since it was her night, and pointed toward the blue dress and raised an eyebrow at her in confirmation. Nodding emphatically, I picked up the three losers of the night and hung then back in my closet.
Leslie ran down to Grant’s truck fast to grab her outfit she had brought with her and was back before I could blink. We had two hours to get ready before the rest of the girls and limo arrived, and, according to Leslie, we
’d need every second of it.
Not wasting a second, I hopped in the shower and lathered my hair, letting the hot water wash away my day and prepare me for a crazy night.
I heard her before I saw him. “No, no, no! Bryant, we don’t have time!”
The bathroom door slung open, and my hunk of a fiancé was standing there raking his eyes over my body.
Leslie tossed her hands up and stomped from the room, hollering back, “Y’all got five minutes, and I’m dragging her out by her wet brown hair!”
Laughing, Bryant stripped off his white button-up uniform shirt and tossed it to the side, giving me my first mouthwatering glimpse of his chiseled chest and six-pack abs. His hands slid down to his pants ever so slowly, my eyes following obediently. As he slid his pants off, my eyes couldn’t help but trace the deep V muscle that I adored and paid homage to each time we made love.
“Hey, you. Eyes up here,” Bryant called out to me with a laugh.
I quickly averted my gaze and moved it back to him. I locked on to his honey-colored eyes twinkling in the light as he closed the gap between us and stepped in the shower.
“Hey,” I whispered as he brushed his lips against my own.
“Hey,” his husky voice replied. His lips sealed over mine, and his tongue licked inside my mouth. Bryant scooped me up and effortlessly wrapped my legs around his hips, the action forcing me to let out an involuntary moan as my body caught up to my pre-event celebration at home. Who needs a skimpy blue bandage dress? His big strong hands trailed down my ribs, and, my body tingling, I rocked myself against him.
“Holy crap! Five minutes is up. Let’s go!” Leslie’s shrill voice rang out.
“Damnit, Leslie. Go. Away,” Bryant growled.
“I warned you. We have to get ready, and now you’re sending her into a lion’s den hot and bothered,” she teased.
Secret Regrets (Living For Today #2) Page 2