Fiance for Keeps

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Fiance for Keeps Page 2

by Gail Chianese


  “You won’t know unless you go. Unless you’re still hung up on Brody.”

  “What?” Her head reared back and she looked at her friend like she’d lost her mind. “Why would you think that?”

  “Oh, come on, Denise. I know he was the guy from the wedding who you spent the weekend with in October.” Jenna popped the last piece of Denise’s Pop-Tart in her mouth and gave her a look, daring her to deny it.

  “I never said it was Brody.”

  “You never said it wasn’t.”

  “Okay, so what? I spent a wonderful, romantic weekend with my ex-fiancé. And maybe I thought—hoped—it would be the start of us rebuilding our relationship. Obviously, by his silence, that isn’t what Brody was looking for.”

  Jenna crossed the room and pulled a bottle of water out of the fridge, tossed Denise a fresh one, and grabbed one for herself. She took a couple of sips with a questioning look on her face. The woman was worse than an amateur sleuth in a cozy mystery when she didn’t know an answer.

  “So he didn’t call you after the fact?”

  “Nope.” Denise slunk down farther into the couch, knowing what was coming next.

  “Did you call him?” her friend asked point-blank.

  “It’s complicated.” Denise pulled the elastic out of her hair, ran her hands over her head, and rebound her ponytail, pulling it good and tight.

  “No, it’s not. Hon, you walked out on him the first time. Doesn’t it make sense that he might have been waiting for you to call? For you to show that this was more than a weekend fling?”

  Denise hung her head between her pulled-up knees and groaned. She’d been wondering about this very thing for months. Hearing her friend say the obvious out loud made her feel like a scared idiot.

  “If you’re going to go on the show, you need to make sure your heart is available, my friend.”

  “What are you suggesting, o wise one?” She pretty much knew, but it was always good to get a second opinion.

  “You know you need to see Brody, because I think he’s the one. Either complete the circle and move on, allowing yourself an honest chance with Mr. Right, or try to work things out with your ex. I vote for option two.”

  Jenna made it all sound so simple. Nothing with Brody had ever been simple and Denise didn’t believe in soul mates. Yes, the man drove her nuts—in all the right and the wrong ways. Passionate, honest, fun, loyal to a fault. Yet stubborn as a mule and when mad, a jackhammer couldn’t get through the walls he threw up. None of that meant he was the only guy for her. Denise dropped her head back against the couch as she thought about all that had gone on in the past few months and years—they had a complicated history—and made her decision. Before she could change her mind, she grabbed her phone, typed a response, and hit Send.

  “What did you just do?” Jenna asked.

  “I told them I couldn’t be more thrilled to participate.” She shrugged her shoulders as she stood up. “Maybe I’ll find my dream guy, maybe not. I don’t believe Brody and I are meant to be together. We had our chances. If I’m wrong, maybe this will get him up off his duff and come after me for once.”

  “And work?”

  “I’m on my way to Simon’s office now. Wish me luck.”

  She practically bounced down the hall to her supervisor’s office. Denise gave him the rundown of the offer, reminded him of her accrued leave and, a few minutes later, had his reassurance that it shouldn’t be a problem.

  Brody smiled as he listened to his mom rant about his lifestyle. It was an old argument, one he heard at least once a week and one he knew was delivered out of love and not disappointment.

  “Mom, I’m fine—”

  “Brody Andrew Nichols, wipe that smile off your face and stop mollifying me. You need a life. Working sixty-plus hours a week, an occasional barbeque with the boys, or a quick game of lacrosse before you return to your office isn’t living.”

  “How do you know I’m smiling?”

  “I’m your mom. I know all.”

  “Really? What’re the winning Lotto numbers?”

  “Don’t sass me, young man.”

  “Mom, you do know I’m thirty-two, right?” By the silence on the other end, he knew he had pushed her buttons. “Okay, then I’ll ask you an easy one. What’s the secret to a good life?”

  “Unconditional love. Which, at the rate you’re going, you’ll never know.”

  His smile deepened. She’d hit part one on the head but was so wrong on the second half. “Then I have a great life, because I have you and you’ve loved me unconditionally even when others didn’t.”

  “That’s not enough. Someday I won’t be around and then who will you have? Jason and Dave will always be there for you, but they’re starting families of their own. Being alone is a lonely, sad way to live. It’s not really living, it’s existing, and don’t tell me you date because you don’t. Not really. You may go out once in a while, but when was the last time you went on a second date or a third? You need to get over Denise, honey. I know she was the love of your life, but that was five years ago. Or forget what happened and ask her for another chance.”

  He didn’t want to talk about his ex-fiancée. Not now, not ever. And especially not with his mom or even his buds. “Who?” Hoping she’d get the hint. “I’m fine, Mom. When the time is right, I’ll find someone. You don’t have to worry about me.”

  “Yes, I do. It’s in my job description. It doesn’t matter how tall you are, how old you are; you’ll always be my baby and I love you.” He heard the love and concern in her voice and hated that he’d put the latter there.

  “I know. How about I take my favorite girl to dinner on Sunday? Let me show you my appreciation and that I don’t work too much.” He’d already made the reservation. When Brody was growing up, his dad had never done anything special for his mom for Valentine’s Day, unless you counted not using her as a punching bag that one day of the year.

  “Can’t. That’s why I called.” His mother hesitated. “I already have a date.”

  As a lawyer, he’d had very few things render him speechless. This news was in the top-ten category.

  “Since when do you date, Mom?”

  “Since a nice man asked me.”

  “Who is it? Where did you meet him? What does he do?” He’d have a friend run the guy’s background. No way would he let his mom get hurt again. She was too trusting. Too tenderhearted, always looking for the good in people, and it nearly cost her her life.

  “Baby, it’s just dinner.” After several long seconds of silence from Brody, she went on. “His name is Kevin Stewart. He’s widowed, with two grown kids—Kelly and KJ—originally from Chicago and is a chiropractor. We met when he attended my cooking classes at the community center.”

  “How’d the wife die?” Brody scribbled the man’s info on a notepad.

  A deep sigh met his question. “Really, Brody . . .”

  “Fine. Rain check, but I’m calling you at nine.” He hung up and stared at the note. He was happy for his mom. She’d spent way too many years with the bastard known as his father, then several more learning to be her own person again. If anyone deserved to find love it was his mom. And, well, his two best friends. It seemed as if in the last year everyone Brody knew had been given a second chance. Except him. Not that he wanted the complication of a love life or cared.

  His office door clicked open and his secretary, Angie, walked in with a stack of mail. “Did your mom tell you her new beau is taking her to the White Horse Tavern over in Newport Sunday? They want to see if the place is haunted, like the rumors say.”

  He took the bundle and set it on his desk, ignoring it. “Nope. We didn’t get that far.”

  She cocked her hip and rested her hand. Great; he knew that pose and look. Time for round two of his weekly lecture.

  “Probably because you were giving her a hard time, and don’t try to deny it. She’s right, you know. If you found a nice girl to settle down with, you wouldn’t work so much
.”

  “Were you listening in again, Angie? You know, you could have pulled up a chair, it would have been easier.”

  “Don’t get fresh with me. There’s not another administrative assistant in the state who’d put up with your moodiness and you know it. Besides, we had a little chat before I transferred her call. She’s very excited about her date.”

  “It’s Valentine’s Day. No one should be alone.” He thumbed through the correspondence, separating them into piles based on priority.

  “Including you, Brody.”

  “What are you saying? Are you finally ready to ditch your husband for me? Thirty years is a long time to be with one person. We can sail around the world and see the Seven Wonders. Just say the word.”

  His secretary, who was around his mother’s age and more like a second mom to him than an assistant on most days, turned several shades of red as she smacked him on the arm with her tablet.

  “You’re going to have to wait a bit longer. His insurance doesn’t pay out the big bucks for a few more years. Until then, don’t forget to call Mr. Padgett back about the case. He has some questions for you.” She stopped as she headed toward the door. “Oh, almost forgot. You’ve got a new client showing up at six. I’m leaving now to prepare for my trip to Boston with the hubby, so don’t forget to listen for the door. Name is Sanders but didn’t want to discuss any details other than to say it was a consult.”

  “Thanks, Ang. Have a good time.”

  He knew she would too, for Angie was the type who never let life get her down, always found the positive side of everything, and was still madly in love with her husband after all these years. It probably didn’t hurt that her husband worshipped her, treated her like a queen. Maybe this Kevin guy would be the one for his mom, the man to see the wonderful, loving woman who’d raised him, defended him, and made sure he and his two buddies stayed out of trouble. His mom was the sweetest woman he knew, and the fear of bringing any more pain into her life had kept him on the straight and narrow growing up. Not that it had stopped him from a few scrapes here and there.

  Kind of hard to avoid with a friend like Dave.

  Not that Brody or Jase were angels either. Not by a long shot, but at least the two of them knew when to keep their mouths shut.

  Brody pulled up his e-mail and shot off a note to another friend who worked at the Bureau and could run a quick check on one Kevin Stewart for him. Trust in his mom’s judgment had nothing to do with it. Some people were too important to take risks with. He’d do anything to keep his mom safe and happy.

  The outer door clicked shut and heavy footsteps made their way to his office door. Must be his new client. He’d stood to meet him at the door when a familiar laugh had him dropping back in his seat. He sat back and waited.

  “See, I told you he’d still be working.” Dave “Fubar” Farber walked through the door first and plopped into the visitor chair across from him.

  “And, as usual, you’re not,” Brody fired back. He turned to his other best friend, Jason “Cupid” Valentine. “What brings you two by?”

  “Yeah, well, I bet when we deposit the final payment on the job we just completed you won’t be complaining, Bro.” Dave propped his foot up on the edge of the desk and dared Brody to complain.

  Instead, Brody ignored him. “You finished the Downing job early?” he asked of Jason.

  “What can I say? The stars were in alignment and Mr. and Mrs. Downing are very satisfied with their new kitchen and master suite, which means Monday we can contact Dr. Cherko to see if he wouldn’t mind us starting early on his expansion.” Jason sat on the edge of the low-rise bookcase next to the desk.

  “You should take a long weekend and celebrate with your ladies.” Brody glanced at his wristwatch, noting his new client was late.

  “Cherry’s got homework,” Jason said.

  “Work for Tawny,” David added.

  “Business has really picked up in the last six months. Looks like the work on the rec center paid off. You two ready to buy me out yet?”

  “Never,” both guys responded in unison.

  “Cherry wants you to come over Sunday for a barbeque to celebrate finishing the job.” Jason tapped his fingers in a steady rhythm against his legs as he looked out the window.

  “Are you sure you deserve the nickname Cupid? You know Sunday is Valentine’s Day, right? Plus, it’s the middle of winter in New England. Your grill is three feet deep in snow.” Brody shook his head in disbelief.

  “Of course I know what day it is. The women have something planned. A surprise. And it includes you,” Jason said.

  “Don’t look at me. You’re the last person I want to spend the evening with,” Dave groused.

  Brody had a feeling he knew what the women were up to—a setup with one of their friends. Nice gesture. Not happening. “Tell them thanks, but I’ve got other plans.”

  “Breaking out the blow-up girlfriend again?” Dave blew him a kiss, smirking because he knew the desk kept Brody from pounding him. He’d always been like that.

  Brody flipped his friend off and told him what he could do with his suggestion.

  “I know you’re not taking your mom out. She’s got a real date.”

  “How do you know about it already?” Brody asked.

  “Stopped by earlier to wish her a happy Valentine’s and give her flowers and chocolate.” Jason continued drumming his fingers against his thigh. A sure sign something was on his mind that bothered him.

  “You always were a suck-up, Cupid.”

  “And you used to have a sense of humor. Want to tell us what really happened at my wedding? Because you’ve been a prick ever since.”

  “Nothing happened. Nothing important.” Brody turned back to his computer, pulled up a client file, and glared at the screen. No way would either drop the subject, but they could tough it out. He wasn’t talking.

  “Told you.” Dave jumped up out of the chair and headed for the door.

  Jason didn’t move for several long seconds. When he pushed away from the bookcase he wore an annoying half grin, like he knew Brody’s secret.

  “You hear that, Fubar?” Jason called after Dave. “Nothing important has knocked the mighty Brody Nichols off his game.” Jason stopped long enough to get Brody’s attention. “Lacrosse, tomorrow at noon. Prepare to have your ass handed to you.”

  Brody ignored the two of them as they left. He had more imperative things to focus on, like work. He also knew if he felt like talking about his feelings—which he didn’t—the guys would be there for him. Shoving unwanted thoughts and memories away, he picked up the phone to call his client back to let him know the defendant settled out of court. At least Padgett and his wife would have a good weekend. The outside door opened again. Figuring the guys had forgotten to razz him about something, he held off hitting the last number.

  “Go away. I’m working,” he called out.

  “Is that how you greet all of your appointments?”

  His head jerked up, the receiver dropped back to the base, and for the second time that day, Brody Nichols had the surprise of his life. He looked at the woman standing in the open doorway and his gaze dropped to her stomach.

  “Are you pregnant?” he asked.

  Chapter Two

  “What?”

  The words pierced Denise’s heart, not that Brody had any clue. But she had no one to blame except herself. Still, not the response she had expected.

  “Why would you ask such a thing? Jeesh, combined with your rude greeting, I’m surprised you have any clients at all.” Maybe she should cut back on those Pop-Tarts. Granted she hadn’t taken a lot of time with her wardrobe, simple black jeans with a blouse tucked in, but at least she wasn’t wearing her scrubs. Not everyone went around looking perfect in their three-piece suits, even with the jacket ditched and the tie loosened like Brody.

  Relaxed in his chair, he picked up a pen and worked it with his fingers. “Why else would you be here? It’s been four months since
you blew me off. No calls. No texts. Nothing. If you’re not pregnant, what else would make you darken my door?”

  This was so not going the way she’d envisioned it. Yeah, she knew he wouldn’t be all smiles and rainbows to see her—they had too much history for that crap—still, she had hoped after their weekend in October that maybe, just maybe, he didn’t still hate her.

  “I need your help. Professional help.”

  “I don’t handle medical malpractice cases. You know that.”

  “I’m not being sued, Brody. Jeesh. Way to jump straight to worst-case scenario.” She edged her way into the room and sunk into a leather chair. “How have you been?”

  “Why do you care?”

  If he only knew she’d never stopped caring. If only her past actions had shown she still cared, he might not be acting like a jerk right now. Time to swallow some crow.

  “Look, I’m just going to say it. I should have called. I meant to. I mean, I planned to call you that night, but I got called in and worked a double and . . . well, one day bled into the next and then the next.” Denise sighed as she realized exactly how lame her apology sounded. “I’m sorry.”

  “Save it. I don’t need the lip service.”

  “Wow, you’re really going to make this as hard as possible for me, aren’t you? Fine. I’ll get help from someone else.” She got up from the chair and stopped at the door, looking over her shoulder at the man who had stolen her heart so many years ago and never given it back. “Have a nice life, Brody.”

  A drawer slammed, followed by the creak of a chair and then heavy footsteps.

  “Denise, wait.”

  “Don’t worry about it. I shouldn’t have come here.”

  “You need legal help?”

  She nodded and fought the tears threatening to spill. This shouldn’t be so effing hard, not that she blamed him. She was the one who’d walked. Not once but twice out of his life.

  Turning around, she noted his casual posture as he leaned against the inner office door frame, none of which hid his frustration, as revealed by his balled-up hands in his front pockets.

  “You want a drink?”

 

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