by S. M. Smith
A Girl Worth Waiting For
S. M. Smith
A Girl Worth Waiting For
Copyright © 2014 Sarah M. Smith
Cover design by Littera Designs
All rights reserved. This book may not be used or reproduced, scanned or distributed in any form without permission from the author except where permitted by law. All characters and storylines are the property of the author and your respect and cooperation are greatly appreciated. The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
ISBN-13: 978-1501089619
ISBN-10: 1501089617
Dedication:
To my dear sweet Kinley,
May you always remember that you are and always will be a girl worth waiting for.
Prologue
I turned down the radio to help me see better, or at least that is the theory. I had driven the road enough in broad day light to know when to turn. But at night when it’s pouring, I had to concentrate. While jamming to some Luke Bryan had me pumped to be heading home, it wasn’t actually helping me in finding it.
I finally found the turn off and inched my way toward our house. Our house. That had a nice ring to it. Of course, it wouldn’t be completely OUR house until I moved in after the wedding. Two more weeks and we would be happily married, in our own house. We planned on getting a dog once we got back from our honeymoon. Something smallish, like a cocker spaniel or a schnauzer. Then in a few years, we would fill one of the spare bedrooms with a bouncing bundle of joy. Yep, we had a plan to make that house our home.
With the torrential downpour now though, I wasn’t paying any attention to anything other than the most efficient way to get into the house while getting wet as little as possible. Otherwise my spidey senses would have detected the ruby red Lexus parked in front of my home. Or at least the purse lying on the floor of the foyer. I did notice the random labeled boxes strewn across the floors of the dining room and kitchen. Some were empty, but I recognized the box with the utensils Jake and I bought when we attempted cooking classes last summer on the counter. Maybe he had decided that he wanted to try a new recipe to welcome me home with?
But Jake wasn’t in the kitchen. I heard noises coming from down the hall, so I started my way through the obstacle course of boxes and dirty laundry. I thought I heard a female voice and my mind immediately started with naïve theories: he’s watching a movie, he’s giving in to the soft teal I wanted in the bedroom and has the girls from work over to help paint, or maybe he’s talking to his mom…. on speaker phone. But the giggling I heard next did little to comfort me into believing his actions were innocent.
With the stress of the wedding planning, I had developed a nervous habit of twirling my engagement ring around my finger whenever I felt uncomfortable. I hadn’t realized I had started doing so until I felt it slip off my finger and onto the floor. I couldn’t have imagined what I found when I opened the door even if I had tried. In the bed that I picked out, sheeted and paid for, was my fiancé, straddled by a woman in nothing but a lacy black teddy—my maid of honor, Maddy.
Startled speechless and paralyzed by shock, I just stood there and stared. He didn’t see me at first, his eyes had rolled back into his head when her lips touched his neck. It wasn’t until his sharp breathing returned and he opened his eyes lazily to find me standing there gawking. Honestly, who stands there watching the person she thought she would spend the rest of her life with having sex with another so-called friend.
At that moment so many things started to make sense: the late nights before he’d call to tell me good night, her skittishness whenever it was just the three of us alone, his complete and utter lack of pushing me into having sex before our wedding night. I always thought he understood and respected my choice to save myself, for him even, but apparently he only understood that Maddy would fork it over before I would. I really hoped that it was worth it.
“Oh God, Jessie.”
“Shh! She will never find out. It will be our little secret,” Maddy said in a sweetly sticky little voice. I laughed humorlessly out loud.
“Oh, I’m sure she just figured it out. Please don’t let me stop you,” I said as I turned and walked out. I heard him push her off of him but my head was pounding with anger, so I didn’t hear anything else. I’m sure he tried to follow me out, but was stopped abruptly by the rain. It seemed the rain was too cold for his naked self because he didn’t follow me to my car.
As I pulled out of the driveway, the windshield wipers worked overtime to keep my windshield clear, but the tears streaming down my face didn’t help my visibility. I barely made it out onto the highway to take me back to my apartment, and it’s only by the grace of Jesus that I made it home without getting into an accident.
Old man Harvey lived three doors down from me and was sitting just outside his door when I finally reached my apartment in the city. He looked up with a big smile for me and I tried very hard to straighten up and return the smile but I just couldn’t. I hurriedly jammed the key into my door to unlock it and rushed in. After slamming it shut behind me, I fell back into the door letting the pull of my falling tears drag me to the floor. As I leaned my head back trying to breathe I could heard the sweet voice of old man Harvey yell from his post, “Welcome home, Jessie.”
Chapter One
“Repeat after me: I am going to have a good time.” Daphne, with her heavy southern accent, grasps my shoulders square to hers and holds my eyes with her intense death stare. I know I can’t evade her instructions, so at this point I just go with it.
“I am going to have a good time.”
“I am hot and single and not going to dwell on my past.”
“You think I’m hot??” I guffaw at her.
“Will you please just focus?” She squeezes my shoulders tight to try to push me into repeating her words.
“Fine. I am hot and single and not going to dwell on my past.” I may be forced to repeat her words, but I do not put any effort into believing them.
“Excellent. And yes, have you seen yourself? Wow! You’ll have a line of men around the corner waiting to sweep you off those perfectly pedicured little feet of yours. But don’t you worry, you’ll have Stephen and Isaiah there to bounce for you.”
“Bounce for me?? Is that even an appropriate term?”
“Oh for cryin’ out loud, let’s just go already. I swear you are about as clueless as see-through platforms. Ugh. At least you have better taste than to own a pair of them.” So now she’s muttering to herself….this is definitely going to be an awkward night.
Not that it wasn’t already awkward; I was supposed to be having my bachelorette party tonight. Some wine, manis, pedis, and facials for everyone and some semi-peaceful beauty sleep so that I would be ready for my big day. Now that I have seen my cheating fiancé, make that ex-cheating fiancé, for who he really is, this is more like a traditional bachelorette party, complete with little black dress and ruby red peep toe pumps and big sexy hair. Oh, and a crazy best friend who is failing miserably at helping me to forget what was supposed to be going on tonight. On a positive note, she isn’t the only one joining us for this little outing. Oh no, she had to drag all my close friends into it. So now we are “clubbing,” as much as I club, with a small entourage.
There’s a knock at the door and I throw up a quick prayer that it is someone who can help me get out of what is inevitably going to be a disaster of an evening. Unfortunately the sweet face who’s on the other side of the door is just as guilty in this little debacle as Daphne is.
“Lad
ies. Daphne you look fabulous as always.” Stephen Cahill waltzes in, in all his perfect gentlemanliness. My longest and dearest friend struts through the door in his impeccably tailored jeans and navy dress shirt that flaunts the fruits of his rigorous workout schedule. I swear that man has the genes of 20 super models. His hair is the perfect shade of gold that he keeps a little long on top and in a flawless sweep up and to the right, not to mention those daringly green eyes that make women around the world melt. The man is sculpted to perfection.
He turns to me to say hello, but doesn’t make it that far. His eyes bug out and all words leave him, which of course makes me blush. In all his gloriousness, I can only assume his reaction to my look is purely to help lift my spirits and to make this night better. He immediately outranks Daphne for best friend status in this moment.
“Yeah, yeah. I look hot. Daphne already told me. Thank you. Let’s just get this night over with, shall we?” I grab my purse off the counter and Stephen shakes off the shock of my sudden hotness to pull me into a friendly hug.
“You do look pretty amazing. I don’t think you should go out like that though. I don’t think I can take on the entire club by myself. Besides, I’m pretty sure assault charges do not look good on a lawyer’s record. Could you grab a cardigan or something?” I giggle as he truly starts to make me feel better. I take his arm and let him escort me to his car as we head out to Club Santos.
In the car, my nerves are starting to get to me. Daphne and Shelby are more the type to spend the night out on the town. They had been to Club Santos a few times and say they have an outstanding DJ and the scene isn’t overly swanky. So when they suggested that we all go to dance out the tension of the last few weeks, I couldn’t say no. As far as I knew, this was supposed to be a clean night of high heels, hot dresses, a thick bass line and feeling the soreness of a night of dancing tomorrow. Little did I know that dancing out the tension included drinking. But after failing at calming myself down in the car, I welcome the shot of tequila Shelby has waiting for us. What could a drink or two hurt?
“Here’s to a night of forgetting. To brighter, more relaxed days. And to better men! Ok, well not you honey.” She turns to Isaiah and kisses him before yelling “Cheers!” and throws back her drink. I down the shot and feel the liquid courage relax my body.
“I’m gonna grab a Coke, do you want anything?” Stephen practically yells over the pounding music directly into my ear. Feeling much edgier than I had expected, I opt for a Cosmopolitan and thank him. Scanning the club, I realize I’m looking for Jake. I’m not sure why. Maybe because after almost ten years of having that someone in your life, you just come to expect them to be there. Well, he’s not, because I ended it all. He made his bed, the one that I bought mind you, and now he gets to sleep in it. Without me, which he obviously doesn’t have a problem doing. But that doesn’t make it hurt any less.
Stephen pops back up with my drink and I decide for the fiftieth time today that I am going to let Jake go. I thank Stephen for the drink as Daphne and Shelby latch onto my arms and lead me to the dance floor, leaving the boys behind. The music is heavy, like feel-it-in-your-chest heavy, but the rhythm puts an energy into me that sweeps me away. After a couple of songs, I’m feeling a little better. Shelby orders another couple of rounds of tequila and after five, or is it six, more songs I’m feeling as light as a feather. I leave everything out on that dance floor. All the stress of wedding planning, all the drama from Jake’s family, all the budgeting and bargain shopping, all the angst and grief I felt over my mom not being able to be a part of it all. But most importantly, I leave the images of Jake and Maddy and the pain they put me through on that floor. An hour later I feel the weight of everything slip off my shoulders and I can breathe again. Well, sort of.
“I need another drink. Anyone?” I yell over the thumping bass. Both girls shake their heads at me so I wiggle my way through the crowd toward the bar alone. I scan around for our table and see Stephen and Isaiah watching us girls, with a drink in their hands. Stephen raises an eyebrow at me as if to ask if I’m okay so I flash him my best smile. I get to the bar and ask for another Cosmo.
“You look like you’re having fun out there.” I don’t realize that anyone is talking to me until I turn back to get my drink. He is watching, not in that creeper kind of way, but in the way that says he finds me amusing. He has dark hair that lays in long curls on top and buzzed short on the sides and even darker eyes that can look deep into my soul. He has a David Beckham kind of air to him, one that screams he is every woman’s fantasy. That makes me chuckle, the last thing I need is some heartbreaker roping me in and trying to take advantage of me.
“Yeah, I am.” I quickly pick up my drink and make my way back to our table. I squeeze in next to Stephen who, having watched my encounter at the bar, lifts his arm to lay it behind me. Some semi sober part of me notes that he has a tendency of protecting me. I don’t know why he feels he needs to, though; the one person who could hurt me is the one person we both had trusted with our lives. No one can hurt me like Jake has. I shake the thought from my head. I’m supposed to be having fun. Jake and his slew of memories, they aren’t fun.
“Aren’t your feet killing you? I know that’s all I’ll hear from Shelby tonight is how badly her feet hurt after hours of dancing in those ten inch death traps.” Isaiah shakes his head and rolls his eyes as if he thinks we women are ridiculous for wearing something so outrageous. I giggle at the image of her going on and on to him about why he let her wear them and then dance all night in them.
“Nope. I feel grrrr-eat!” I smile, realizing I’m not feeling much of anything right now.
“Are you having a good time?” Stephen leans in and asks. I nod my head yes; talking requires nothing short of yelling at this point.
I am having a good time. I don’t have to think about anything, I’m not responsible for anyone other than myself or anything. I haven’t felt this way in a long time. Having found my new sense of liberation, I down my drink and make my way back to the dance floor. I spend what feels like another hour on the floor, enjoying the burn of every move my muscles make, like it’s a good work out. I’ve lost track of how many shots I have had, but I don’t care. I’m feeling on top of the world.
That is until after another shot of tequila starts to make the room spin. At this point, I decide it is time for me to slow it down, so I grab Daphne and start to wobble our way back to the table. Not two seconds after we reach the table, another Cosmo is set in front of me with a napkin printed with a name and number on it. I look around to see just who would be bold enough to send this already intoxicated girl yet another drink. I find Mr. Beckham-look-alike lifting a glass with a smug smile. I toast him back and turn to face my friends again, only to have Daphne nearly topple my drink into my face.
“Oooohhhh!! Look at you, hot mama!! One night out and you’re already back in the game. His name is Caleb by the way.” She flies the napkin around like it’s some victory flag.
“I am NOT back in the game. I’m…..having a good time.” I lift my glass as if to prove that I’m actually having a good time, but my head has started pounding. All of a sudden I’m not so sure that I’ll be having a good time for long. “I just…..need some…. air.”
“Let me go with you.” I feel the floor start to tilt and Stephen immediately jumps up to help.
“You’re sucha good friend, ya know that? I dunno what I’d do without you.” I try to articulate my words more, but my mouth doesn’t seem to want to cooperate.
Stephen holds me up as we make our way to the outdoor patio, where I nearly roll my ankle. My dumb heels get caught on the threshold and I start to tumble forward, but Stephen catches me just in time. I try to bend over to pull them off, but realize too late that bending over is a very bad idea.
“Whoa there, Sparky. Maybe you should sit down.” He guides me over toward a table.
The air is crisp and sharp as the beginning of fall starts to set in. Still bent over, I lay my h
ead on my arm on edge of the table we sit at and just take in a few deep breaths. Stephen doesn’t say anything. He just sits beside me with a hand on my shoulder, rubbing small circles on my back. I felt the cool air starting to right the universe again as it fills my lungs.
“How did I get here?” my voice is just barely a whisper.
“Well, I picked you and Daphne up from your apartment and we all drove-“I turn my head toward him to give him a pointed look.
I may be drunk, but not drunk enough to not know how I physically got here. He smiles at me as if he knows he is being a smart aleck. Then his beautiful green eyes soften.
“I don’t know, Jessie. I didn’t really see this coming either.” Tears start to well up in my eyes and I try really hard to force them back to wherever they came from.
“I just….I don’t…ugh. Things weren’t supposed to happen this way. You’re supposed to be keeping him out of a strip club tonight and making sure that he gets up on time to make it to the altar. And I, well I’m supposed to be nearly asleep with some green goop all over my face. I’m supposed to be getting married tomorrow, Stephen. I’m supposed to be headed for some tropical island in two days. I’m supposed to be happy!” I can’t push back the tears anymore. They start streaking down my face like an army of emotional traitors fleeing for their lives. Stephen leans over and gently wipes them away with his thumb.
“I’m so sorry you’re not happy. That’s all I want for you, you know.”
“Yeah, I know. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be putting this all on you.“ I sit back in my seat, still letting the cool night air sober me.
“It’s okay, really. Tonight is supposed to be about you getting it all out and letting as much of it go as you can. Besides, I want you to know I’m here for you. Regardless of what you need, I’m here for you.” He pulls me close and wraps his strong arms around me.