by Tina Reber
I stroked her long brown hair and hugged her fiercely. “We’ll get through this. I promise.”
When Ryan returned later that day after spending his morning being trained to rock climb, he gave Marie a long hug. “You need me to kick his ass for ya? Anything you need, just say the word,” he said softly.
Mike stood off to the side, a case of beer in his hands. He looked like he was sorry for interrupting.
Ryan shrugged. “I thought maybe you ladies would like some time to yourselves, so Mike and I are going to watch the hockey game later, okay?” Like two little boys, they appeared hopeful that they’d get permission.
We sat in the living room with the men when the pizzas arrived. Marie was slowly getting into better spirits; she seemed to be a little more relaxed.
“Here, let me get that for you,” Mike said, almost jumping out of his seat to open a bottle of beer for Marie. If he only knew how many bottles of beer she’d opened by herself in the last umpteen years working behind the bar. His gesture was endearing but almost laughable.
It was around eight thirty when Ryan decided he couldn’t live without salty junk food, so the four of us piled into Mike’s rental. Marie stopped abruptly, gasping in shock when Mike rushed to open the car door for her. Ryan, forever the gentleman, always held my door for me. He always treated me like a lady.
“I don’t need a map. I have the GPS,” Ryan joked from the passenger seat as he fumbled with the in-dash navigation.
“Good thing Mike’s sober or we’d be driving in circles,” Marie teased.
Ryan turned and leered at her. “Hey, don’t talk about my man, Mike. He’s an important part of this mission.”
“Thank God. Lord knows someone’s got to defend you when all those horny housewives try to assault you in the aisles,” Marie joked. “How much you want to bet that someone asks you to autograph their rump roast?”
Mike laughed. “Wait. Does his signature actually have to go on meat or are all groceries included in this bet?”
Marie raised a brow at me. “All groceries,” she clarified. “Why? You seriously want to bet against me?”
“Why yes, darlin’, I believe I do. Women always dig in their purses for paper first,” Mike replied. “I’ll give you a few minutes to think about what you’re willing to lose in this bet. Choose wisely.”
His flirtatious comment surely didn’t go unnoticed in the backseat.
I grabbed a cart before we went into the store, sensing Ryan’s apprehension. He tugged his baseball hat lower, glancing around nervously.
As usual, Mike entered the store first. He did that wherever we went, getting the lay of the land before allowing Ryan entrance. After he did his quick visual sweep of the produce section to make sure the vegetables weren’t staging an attack, he sidled up next to me and bumped my arm. “Jeez, woman. I thought we were here for Doritos. How much do you intend to buy?”
“For how much food you two pack away, I should get two carts. And unless you like wearing the same crusty underwear every day, I suggest you zip it and pick out your favorite fabric softener.” I gave him a playful elbow bump back.
Mike looked aghast. “Did you just threaten me with laundry?”
“Considering that we don’t qualify for on-set laundry services like some people . . . uh, yeah.”
Ryan was already piling the cart with fruit and some cookies that were on display when we first walked in. He frowned at Mike. “There’s no food in our place and if she stops cooking for me because you’re being an ass I’m going to kill you.”
Mike held up his hands in surrender. “You don’t have to tell me twice. If it weren’t for Taryn I’d never get a home-cooked meal and if she’s willing to wash socks for me . . . Consider it shut.”
I grabbed some lettuce. “Marie is a better cook than I am. She can make soup from a stalk of celery and a rock.”
Marie smiled broadly at me. It was one of our private jokes from back in the starving college days.
Ryan waved the pack of cookies in Marie’s direction. “There you go. Get your own cook.”
I took the pack of cookies out of the cart. “Not on the approved diet from your trainer, babe.”
Ryan’s pout was heartbreaking. “No cookies?”
I felt like the mother of an overgrown baby. “No cookies. No doughnuts, either.”
While Ryan glared at me, Mike stealthily gazed at Marie. Our dear bodyguard’s face might have been impassive, but his eyes definitely gave it away that he was considering her, weighing out his options.
Marie had a hell of a figure on her, including the kind of boobs that got women into trouble.
There were several times I wanted to dig into Mike’s business, beyond knowing he spent ten years in
the Marine Corps and was capable of killing someone a hundred different ways with his bare hands, but I never wanted to embarrass him. His love life was something that never came up in conversation. I suppose living on the road like he was was not the most conducive situation to try to maintain a relationship.
The possibility that he could be gay flitted through my brain once, but that quickly dissipated when Mike took a bit of an interest in Trish. That interest, however, was nothing compared to how he was now hanging on to Marie’s every word as if she were the most intriguing woman on the planet.
A woman in aisle three did a less than inconspicuous gaze when she spotted Ryan. Her skin flushed as if she was both excited and unsure, but still she never approached. Too nervous, apparently.
I pushed my cart, enjoying the view of Mike trying to talk to Marie, attempting to be casually cool as he spoke.
“You never did specify the terms of the bet. Ten, twenty? Decide quickly. Stretch Pants Lady is fumbling with her purse.”
Marie looked confident but slightly bashful. I noticed she rubbed the finger that used to have a wedding ring on it. There was nothing there now but bare skin and the hopes of a fresh start.
“How about dinner?” she tossed back. “If you win, pick out anything in the store and I’ll cook for you.
But if I win, you’re wearing the apron.”
Mike laughed, surreptitiously placing his body between Ryan and some older man coming down the aisle. “You may want to rethink that, unless you really love mac-’n’-cheese and ramen noodles and want to see me in an apron. Then who am I to disappoint?”
Nothing but an apron, I amended silently for her. Yeah, she’s smirking. Dirty minds think alike.
She quickly recovered. “Not much of a cook?”
“Well, I have tried to make celery-rock soup once before. It probably wasn’t as good as yours, though.”
Ryan grabbed a jar of spaghetti sauce. His arms were piled with things. He walked up to Mike. “Wait, I thought we planned on taking them out to dinner tomorrow? That’s what you said you wanted to do.”
Mike looked like he wanted to throttle Ryan on the spot, that is, until several customers started leering down the aisle. One girl pulled out her cell, aiming it to take a quick snapshot.
Son of a . . . why, people? Do you think that famous people don’t eat or shop? Come on! I darted to Ryan’s side, bumping shoulders with Mike and blocking Ryan as much as possible. He couldn’t be left alone for two minutes without someone taking a piece of him.
Marie whipped out her phone and aimed right back. The girl quickly started to back up. “Wait! Where are you going? I need to update my Facebook page.”
Ryan frowned, showing his disapproval. “Don’t do that. Just let them take their pictures. You start saying shit and that gets recorded . . . Just do me a favor and don’t.”
“Sorry,” Marie said quickly, not looking sorry at all.
Mike gave her an elbow nudge. “Troublemaker! Seems as though you need a keeper, too.”
I was starting to wonder if he was volunteering.
I smiled at Marie. No matter what Gary thought he could do to hurt her, I had no doubt she’d bounce right back on her feet.
The following
evening, Marie and I shared the bathroom mirror to get ready. She was in a much better mood after we spent a full day shopping with a nice, leisurely lunch in between.
I was still a bit peeved that Ryan hadn’t returned my personal credit card, leaving me no choice but to use our joint card. I knew it was his way of making sure he was taking care of me, but I didn’t like being at someone’s mercy. I figured some new risqué bras and panties were a nice way of saying thank you.
Marie tugged at her new top and then abruptly stopped to hug me. “Thank you for buying this outfit for me. Once I get financially stable again, I’ll pay you back. I swear.”
I rubbed my hand over her back. “Not necessary. You’re the one who told me I’d have to get used to spending my future husband’s millions, remember? Consider it a gift from the ‘Ryan says he owes you big-time for what you did for us’ fund.”
She dismissed my words with a wave of her hand. “I still feel bad, though. I hate not being able to afford the things I want without relying on Gary’s money. This totally sucks.”
I looked at her knowingly.
“Okay, okay, I get it now,” she said. “I won’t tease you about spending Ryan’s money anymore. You and I weren’t raised that way. We’re used to earning our keep.”
I put my makeup away, straightening up the counter. “Exactly. Oh, I’m sure there are millions of women out there who wouldn’t even blink at becoming a pampered little house pet, doing nothing but gossiping and shopping all damn day. But that’s not how I want to live. You remember Melanie’s favorite saying?”
Marie smirked.
“‘I don’t owe you shit,’” we said in unison.
A second later Marie huffed, tucking her extra cleavage away. “Cripes. Mike is going to take one look at me in this getup and think that I’m some sort of desperate psycho ready to pin him to the wall. I just wanted a break from the stress to get my head together, not force the first warm, completely gorgeous body I come in contact with into an uncomfortable situation.”
“I’m sure he doesn’t view it that way.” At least I hope not. “No one is forcing either of you into a situation here. And by the looks of it, Mike seems more than willing to spend time with you.”
Marie rolled her eyes, but it was the truth and she knew it. His eyes had traveled up and down her body quite a few times, often fighting to decide between her face and her endowed chest.
“Is it too soon? Shouldn’t I be in mourning or something for a year?”
“I don’t know. I guess if you don’t feel sad then what does that tell you?”
She didn’t hesitate. “I’ve been unhappy for a long time. He’s treated me like crap for so long; I guess I’m numb to it. But when I just look at Mike, I feel it all the way down into my toes.”
“I can tell you he’s a great guy. I’ve really gotten to know him better these last few weeks. But I feel bad for him. His life consists of waiting on whatever Ryan has to do. Most of the time he thinks he’s intruding on us, and when he escorts us safely someplace and then quietly steps out of the picture, my heart breaks for him. He’s probably looking forward to hanging out and not feeling like the third wheel for once.”
“Well, I’m not looking at this like it’s a date. I’m sure he is just being nice so I’m not going to read into anything.”
The doorbell rang and Marie gasped. It was go time.
“Sorry I’m late.” Mike had on a pair of black dress slacks and a thin gray button-down shirt that left no curve of his upper body a mystery. As soon as I closed the door, I noticed something shimmer on his back.
“Turn around,” I said discreetly, pulling the XL size sticker from the fabric. I quickly balled it up in my hand. I’d never seen Mike blush before.
“Oh shit. How embarrassing is that?” he mumbled.
I was delighted that he felt the need to buy a new outfit for tonight. “Don’t worry about it. It will be our little secret. You look really nice, by the way.”
Mike seemed genuinely nervous, brushing his hands over his slacks. “Thanks, Taryn.”
The minute Marie stepped into the room I saw it cross over both of their faces—that flush of excitement caused by extreme attraction to another human being.
Mike had eyed Marie quite a few times in the past, but he left it at that. I also noticed him scowl at Gary once or twice as well, when Gary was being less than polite to her. But Marie was unobtainable at the time. Now the playing field was wide open. Her wedding rings were off, leaving only a faint indentation on her finger of a period in her life that would eventually fade and fill in time.
“Oh wow. You look, um, amazing,” Mike stammered, a hint of red staining his cheeks.
Oh how adorable! Look at him blush again.
Ryan also noticed the electricity zooming through the room. “Tar, can you help me a sec?” I followed him upstairs into our bedroom.
“We need to talk. You see what’s going on with them, don’t you?”
I smiled. “Yes. And I’m okay with it. Are you?”
Ryan looked tense. “Are you sure? He said he’d forget about it if you weren’t cool with it.”
Mike actually said something to Ryan about Marie? Judging by the look Mike gave Marie when she came into view, I’d say he’d have a tough time forgetting about her in that outfit.
“I’m sure,” I said. “But what concerns me is that I thought Mike was interested in Trish. I know he’s lonely and it’s not fair for him to sacrifice his personal life for us, but I won’t let him play both.”
Ryan nodded quite assuredly. “No, me neither. He likes Trish. He thinks she’s cute, but he didn’t have that instant chemistry with her that he’s feeling for Marie. Hell, I don’t need to say it—you can see it as well as I can. But I’m pretty sure his dick is doing most of the thinking and chemistry-feeling at this point.
He knows she’s hurting and is in no way ready for anything serious.”
Ryan rubbed my arm. “Hey, she’s my friend too, you know,” he went on. “And she’s my future wife’s best friend. I won’t allow anything to jeopardize that. Mike knows her current situation and I briefed him on some of the crap she’s going through. He’s willing to feel it out, but seeing that in the kitchen was like walking into a wall of sexual tension. Heck, I’d be surprised if they make it through dinner.”
He made me laugh. “That’s what we get for leaving them alone to talk last night. They’re both grown-ups. I’m sure they’ll figure it out on their own.”
Ryan didn’t seem so sure. “Well, let’s go find out.”
Two hours into a wonderfully romantic dinner, Marie and I politely excused ourselves for a companion trip to the ladies’ room. Call it what you will, but we all knew this was a chance for us girls to do our halftime checkup while the boys pondered what they had to do to score. Mike and Marie were so comfortable together; it was freakishly weird and exhilarating to watch all at the same time.
“Oh God, I think I’m in love already,” Marie gushed, pacing the tiny, private ladies’ room nervously, fanning herself to cool down. She brushed her long brown hair back, pulling it off her neck. “Or, at least, in very serious lust. Did you see him choke up when he talked about his last military tour? How close he came to that car bombing in Israel?” Marie wiped a finger under her eyes, fixing her makeup. “He tried to hide it but he’s holding on to some seriously deep emotional pain, Tar. You can see it in his eyes. That was hard for him to talk about, but he’s got to. He’s got to get that out or else it will fester.”
To say we were all moved to the verge of tears when Mike told us about one of their missions and how he lost his two good friends to senseless Middle East violence was an understatement. Mike was harboring some traumatic stuff behind his tough-guy image.
Marie took the single toilet first. “Shoot. I feel guilty for peeing. That first bottle of wine alone was almost two hundred dollars. Do you two splurge like this all the time? A family of four could eat for a month on what they’re going to s
pend on this meal.”
While neither of us grew up underprivileged, it was slightly unnerving to pretend not to care what things cost. “I know. And the answer is sometimes. Ryan wanted privacy tonight and I’m pretty sure Mike just wants to impress you.”
“Well, mission accomplished.” She pinned me with her eyes. “He knows what Gary did, doesn’t he?”
I nodded. “Ryan told him. He also knows you’re separated and staying in my apartment.”
“Thought so. I saw him tense up a couple of times.” She took a deep breath. “Yeah, well, what you don’t know yet is that Jeff the UPS guy came into the pub the other day. Told me he delivered a package to my house and was wondering who the cute girl was that answered my door wearing nothing but a T-shirt. He asked if Gary had a sister. It was like nine in the morning, Tar.”
I gasped. “Oh God.”
I could see her anger holding back the tears as the painful recollection poured from her lips. “You know, I wondered how the hell he could do that. Move on so damn quick with some girl? And here I am, ready to do the same thing. I guess I understand now.”
I leaned up against the sink counter. “Do you still love him?”
Marie snorted. “After all of this bullshit, hell no. Our marriage is over.” Just saying those words were hard for her because she was holding back some tears in that weak smile. “Now I just want to get my stuff and move on. The scary part is not knowing where to move on to.”
I gave her a reassuring smile. “You know as well as I do that life has a way of clearing that path for you. And maybe the good Lord above has dropped two hundred pounds of gorgeous path-clearing answer out there at our dinner table for you.”
That made her laugh. “That’s the problem. I’m too afraid to get my hopes up. Not right now, anyway.
He probably just wants some casual sex, but I highly doubt one night with Mike would be enough. Well, unless he has a small penis and no skills. Damn, he’s already got me tangled up inside.”
“You know . . . I recall someone once telling me to go for a one-night stand with Ryan. How fast you change your tune when you’re the one wearing the slut shoes.”