Not Quite Perfect (Not Quite Series Book 5)

by Catherine Bybee

  Mary started to protest.

  “No, don’t. Yes, I feel bad that we didn’t see the asshole who did this. Maybe even a little guilty, but that isn’t driving my desire to see you safe. And I have no doubt that Glen’s ego is puffing his chest out saying he won’t let this happen if he’s here to stop it. It’s not testosterone driving Glen to his actions either. Anyone else would be booking his flight home after what you just said.”

  Maybe he should go.

  “You know what I see?” Dakota asked.

  Mary didn’t trust herself to speak . . .

  “I see someone hurt who is too afraid to open herself up and let others in to heal her.”

  “I don’t need someone else to heal me.”

  “You don’t want to need someone to heal you. You only want to depend on the only person in your life who has always been there . . . yourself.”

  “You and I both know Glen is temporary. Depending on him for more than what we have right now would be a mistake on my part.”

  “Maybe. I don’t have a window into that man’s brain and he hasn’t asked me for your ring size, so maybe he is transient. But he is a good guy who wants to help a friend out.”

  “Help . . . don’t demand.”

  “In case you haven’t noticed, you don’t accept any help without the other person demanding it.”

  Chapter Twenty

  The rag Glen was using to remove the word bitch off of Mary’s bathroom mirror did a great job of smearing the lipstick instead of taking it off.

  Mary walked in during his efforts and leaned against the doorframe. “I’m sorry.”

  “Forget about it.” He kept scrubbing, making the mess bigger.

  “No, Glen . . .” She approached from behind, placed her hands on his shoulders. “I was way out of line.”

  He caught her reflection in the mirror and dropped the towel on the counter. “You’re under a lot of stress.”

  “Doesn’t excuse bad behavior. I know you just want to help.”

  He turned around, placed his hands on her hips.

  “Let me help you.”

  Mary closed her eyes.

  “Please. I have the means, Mary.”

  “Glen—”

  “I can’t stay here indefinitely, I do have a life at home. But leaving you here less than protected would be impossible. Especially if there is something I can do.”

  “I don’t know.”

  “I’m asking.” He reached for her chin and forced her to look at him. “I’d want to do this even if I lived across the street. The fact I’m so far away makes it even more important. I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep in my own bed if—”

  She cut him off with a long-suffering breath. “Okay. Put in the locks, the security system.”

  He’d won.

  He tried not to smile.

  “It’s the right thing to do,” she said.

  Glen pulled her in for a kiss. He didn’t mean for it to be anything but a thank-you, but she reached around and latched on.

  A simple meeting of lips quickly turned into lava.

  His heart kicked in his chest and his body responded.

  When he pushed away from the counter, Mary jumped up and wrapped her legs around his waist. Glen caught the globes of her ass in his hands and walked the both of them over to her bed.

  They fell together, Mary pulling at his clothes. Her struggles were desperate and needy, and this was where Glen knew he could help and she wouldn’t protest.

  The floor of the room was still a mess, but the bed had been remade before they’d gone to dinner.

  Mary clawed her way past his clothing, making quick work of her own.

  Only when Glen pushed into her did she still. While her desperation to get to this point had been frantic, now that turned to a slow, steady gait to heaven. “I have you,” he whispered in her ear.

  “Yes,” she whispered back.

  Glen stopped asking permission the following day.

  He called a local service to remove the trashed furniture. The only thing left in the living room was a lone surviving lamp and the TV. Even the cable box had been destroyed, but the man hadn’t touched the television. The cords to the speakers of her stereo system were cut in half, the console itself thrown on the floor.

  They kept a running list of everything that ended up in the Dumpster for the insurance company.

  They passed through the empty room to her kitchen. One of the two bar stools had been slashed like her sofa, the other was intact. The wooden kitchen table and chairs had survived. Thankfully he hadn’t bothered with her washer and dryer, which had been running nonstop since they’d started cleaning the place up.

  Mary’s bedroom was starting to smell like a brothel. All her perfumes and cosmetics had been dumped on the floor, many of the bottles broken and leaking onto the carpet. While they had made the bed the day before and slept in it, there was a massive slash in the mattress, which would need to be replaced sooner than later.

  Her dresser survived and most of her clothing.

  Glen called a tow service to take Mary’s car in for repairs. The insurance companies were haggling over who was ultimately responsible for the bill, and at one point the mechanic vacillated on starting the work. Glen pulled him aside, handed him a credit card, and told him he was covered. Mary hadn’t seen the transaction when he’d done it, and he resolved himself to the fact he’d have to ask her for forgiveness later.

  They went from the mechanic to rent her a car. All the questions remained the same . . . will the auto insurance pay for the rental? They didn’t know, and Mary ended up using her credit card to drive away.

  Her home office was intact, just in such disarray it would take her weeks to put everything to rights.

  By the time they were ready for dinner, Glen had scheduled a professional service to clean the carpets upstairs the next day and a contractor to come and give an estimate for repairs on three of the walls, which took the brunt of the force the bastard who’d done this had inflicted when he threw her belongings around the room.

  Mary was taking a shower before they left for dinner, and Glen was on her back porch talking with Jason on the phone. “Damn, Jase . . . you should have seen it. The only thing intact was her TV and computer.”

  “Any idea on who could have done this?”

  “I think the police need to check out her clients.”

  “I can’t imagine Mary would appreciate that.”

  Glen pinched the bridge of his nose. “No, she didn’t agree to releasing any names.”

  “How is she holding up?”

  “Like a rock. The woman gives stubborn a whole new meaning. Her entire home is all but destroyed and she just keeps moving forward. Not one tear. I don’t know any other woman who would hold up like she is during all of this.”

  “When do you think you’ll be back?”

  Glen rubbed the tension out of the back of his neck. “A few days. I can work remotely while Mary’s seeing clients.” He knew his brother wasn’t asking about work, but he felt the need to tell him he was thinking about it.

  “We’re good here. Just make sure your girl is safe.”

  Glen ran a hand through his hair. That was the problem. All the precautions in the world wouldn’t assure her safety.

  It took Mary four hours and three sets of clients before she felt her head was in the game.

  Two of the three clients were married, working on their relationships, and the other set was a mother/daughter situation where they were just as codependent on the other as a married couple. And the daughter was in her forties. Mary had to keep from letting her mind wander during their sessions . . . asking if it was at all possible she was sitting across from the person who had trashed her home.

  A text from Glen came in as she was finishing her notes. Can I bring you lunch?

  Meet me at the Hansen’s deli?

  Twenty minutes later she sat at the counter, placed her purse in the seat beside her for Glen.
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br />   Carla swung by, dropped off the iced tea, and glanced at the vacant seat. “Meeting someone today?”

  “I am.”

  “The cutie from the law firm?” Carla wiggled her eyebrows.

  Mary was quick to shake her head. “No. He’s not . . . no.”

  Carla didn’t ask for details, just winked and moved on down the counter.

  Mary checked her phone to see if Glen had texted with a need for directions.

  “Hey, Mary.”

  She twisted in surprise. “Hi, Kent.”

  “I’m pleasantly surprised to see you here.”

  Mary blinked a few times without responding. The comment felt out of place.

  “I didn’t see your car in the parking lot. I thought maybe you’d taken some time off,” he clarified.

  She released a breath and smiled. “Oh, no . . . I had another problem. It’s back at the shop.”

  His smile fell. “Nothing serious, I hope.”

  “Well, yes . . . but no. It’s okay. Nothing I can’t handle.”

  “That sounded suspicious.”

  Mary glanced toward the door. “It’s been a crazy week.”

  “And it’s only Tuesday,” he said. He looked down at the empty seat. “Saving this for me?”

  “Uhm, no. I’m actually meeting someone today.” And sitting there talking to a man who had asked her out while waiting for the man she was dating started to feel as awkward as it looked.

  When Glen walked into the deli she waved with a smile.

  “I see.”

  Glen moved to stand behind the saved seat, cut off from taking it by Kent’s presence.

  “You found the place,” Mary said.

  “Google.” Glen’s one-word answer had universal meaning.

  It was obvious that Kent wasn’t moving, so Mary made an introduction. “Glen, this is Kent . . .” She’d forgotten his last name. “I’m sorry, what was your last name again?”

  “Duvall.” Kent watched Glen as if sizing up the competition.

  “Right, Kent Duvall, this is Glen Fairchild. Kent is the man who helped me when my car wouldn’t start last week.”

  Glen extended a hand. “I appreciate you helping Mary out.”

  There was a bit of a power struggle with the handshake. “Anytime. I hate to think chivalry is dead.”

  “The act, no . . . the men willing to participate . . .”

  Kent finally stepped back. “I’ll let you two get to your lunch. See you around, Mary.”

  Glen moved into her space the moment he could and greeted her with a kiss. She caught him glancing over his shoulder at Kent’s receding back.

  She bit her lip to keep from laughing.

  “What?” he asked when he noticed her struggle.

  “Male chest-bumping if I’ve ever seen it.”

  He didn’t bother denying her claim. “Who is that guy?”

  “Like I told you . . . he jumped my car the other night.”

  Glen lifted a menu. “Uh-huh! His eyes were all over you.”

  Mary gave up and started to laugh. “I told him no.”

  “Told who no?”

  “Kent . . . he asked me out. I told him no.”

  Glen put down his menu, did a double take to find the man they were talking about. “Good.”

  She sipped her iced tea, smiling.

  “Why did you tell him no?”

  Glen was not letting this go. “Because I’m dating you. I know we haven’t talked about being exclusive, but I can’t bring myself to date two men at the same time.” She quickly realized how that sounded and added, “My issue, not yours. It’s just how I am.”

  He twisted back to the counter, looked at the menu. “So you said no, not because you weren’t interested, but because we’re dating?”

  Mary rested both hands on the counter. “Could you be more jealous?”

  He shrugged. “Probably.”

  She was laughing when Carla walked back around.

  “And who do we have here?” Carla asked, winking at Mary.

  Mary stopped giggling long enough for introductions. “Carla, best waitress in this place and overall wonderful woman, this is Glen.”

  Glen set the menu down with a smirk. “Mary’s boyfriend,” he added.

  She stopped laughing.

  “Is that right?” Carla asked.

  “Mary’s exclusive boyfriend,” Glen said as if his first proclamation wasn’t enough.

  It was Carla’s turn to laugh. “Well, Mary’s exclusive boyfriend, what are you having?”

  “What’s good here?”

  “The Reuben,” Mary and Carla said in unison.

  By Thursday the plumbers had finally fixed the pipe in her floor and hadn’t found anything past the point where the roots had interrupted the flow of sewage. Mary tried not to enjoy the fact that Glen had taken the task of directing the work on her home, but she had to push all her clients into three days and couldn’t dwell over drywall and paint. She spent most of her spare time talking to insurance agents and mechanics.

  At night she fell asleep in Glen’s arms, asking if he was flying home the next day.

  Each time he met her question with not yet.

  Friday morning the security system went in. Mary had only one client on Friday. By design, she’d been moving her clients around to give her the option of leaving for long weekends.

  The technician stood beside a control panel pressing buttons and explaining the system.

  Mary mimicked his motions. “So when I’m at home at night, I set it with this button?”

  “Right, and when you leave for the day, or night . . . you set this. Giving you more time to turn it off when you come home before the alarm calls the police.”

  “Seems simple enough.”

  “Then we have a distress mode.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Let’s say you’re on the way in the house and someone comes up behind you . . . tells you to turn off the alarm.”

  She shivered. The thought hadn’t occurred to her.

  “The code you put in turns the alarm off and notifies the alarm company that you’re in need of the police.”

  “So the alarm turns off and whoever is with Mary has no idea the alarm triggered the authorities?”

  “Exactly!”

  Mary wrapped her arms around herself. “Sounds thorough.”

  “Designed to keep you safe when you’re here and when you’re not.”

  Mary stood by the control panel, prepared to program her codes, while Glen showed the technician out.

  When he returned, he placed an arm around her shoulders, his hand dangling on the other side.

  “Thinking of a code?”

  She nodded. “Something I’ll remember.”

  “Not a birthday.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Of course not.”

  “Not your address.”

  “I wasn’t born yesterday.”

  “When were you born?”

  She huffed and started pressing buttons. “Good question.”

  He noted the code, and her answer. Glen couldn’t help but feel for the meaning behind her words. Mary had no idea when she was born. Something as simple as a birthday Mary couldn’t relate to.

  “Now the distress code.” She tapped a nail against the wall in thought, then chuckled before programming it in.

  “I’m sure there is a meaning behind that.”

  “Danger to self . . . danger to others.”

  “Easy to remember?”

  “Yeah,” she chuckled.

  “Looks like you’re all set.”

  Mary leaned into his shoulder. “I can’t thank you enough for all your help.”

  “I didn’t do a lot.”

  “Says the man who gave up his life this week . . . managed to get the plumbers to take down all this tarp and finish the job. Says the man who fixed the holes, had the walls painted, the floors finished, and managed to get an alarm system that monitors my window, my doors . . . my life in
just a few days. No. You didn’t do a lot. You did everything.”

  Glen placed a playful smile on his face and looked at the ceiling. “Well, when you put it that way.”

  She punched his arm.

  He grabbed it, pretended pain. “All I do and you beat on me.”

  “Poor baby.”

  He took her hands, pinned them to the wall, and kissed her.

  She liked this part . . . the playful part where things could get hot and sweaty or simply move on to dinner.

  He broke his kiss, stared into her eyes. “So, what are we going to do this weekend?”

  She shook her head in amazement. “Don’t you have a life to get back to?”

  “Monday. That’s soon enough.”

  “I actually had plans this weekend.”

  Glen leaned back. “Really?”

  “I did. A long weekend. I had to cancel . . . in light of everything.”

  “Is that right?”

  She could tell by his tone he didn’t believe her.

  “I didn’t sit at home every weekend before you came along.”

  He pressed his body against hers, distracting her. “So what did you have planned?”

  She closed her eyes, trying not to think of how perfect he felt like this. “Out of town trip.”

  His teeth grazed her earlobe.

  “Without me?”

  “Planned months ago,” she told him.

  “Sounds serious.” His tongue replaced his teeth.

  She wrapped one of her legs around his and leaned against the wall he was pressing her into. “Very.”

  He kissed down her neck, the tops of her breasts. “I think you’re bluffing.”

  “I don’t lie.” And what he was doing with his tongue felt amazing.

  “What was it?”

  “Important . . .” She arched into him.

  “What was it, Mary?” His hand slid up her frame, took her breast with a gentle squeeze.

  “I’m not telling.”

  “I can stop doing what I’m doing until you tell me.”

  She reached around and grabbed his ass, pulled him closer. “Don’t you dare.”

  “Tell me.” One hand moved down her torso, played with the space between her jeans and her skin.

  Just when she was sure he was going to dip lower, his hand stilled, his kiss stayed just outside of reach of her lips.