by Toni Shiloh
His best friend was beautiful.
No, his wife was beautiful.
He stared at her, wondering why his heart felt lighter, held more peace. There was something about Trinity that just soothed every ache within.
“Daddy!”
Omar jumped backward, swinging around to look toward the kitchen.
“I’ll go get them.” Trinity rushed into the eat-in kitchen to get the girls.
He rubbed a hand down his face. What was that?
There had been some kind of moment between them. One look from those soulful eyes, and it was like a tethered cord tied them together. And even now, his heart thumped in his ears. He could feel heat climb up his neck.
He couldn’t be interested in Trinity, couldn’t risk letting his heart connect with another woman on a romantic level. What if he lost her like he lost Christine?
His gaze roamed around the living room, trying to find something to anchor him and his wayward thoughts. His stomach twisted as he spotted the picture of him and Christine on their wedding day. The frame was always perched on one of the end tables. Trinity hadn’t removed the picture.
Although the table was no longer in the same place, she’d left a reminder of his late wife. He groaned and flopped onto the couch.
Lord God, what was that? A fluke? A side effect of close proximity? Please help me hold on to Christine and the memories and life we built together. Please keep my heart safe from going down that same path.
He didn’t want to overcome his grief just to forget Christine and what they’d had or been to each other. Or worse, “move on” like some well-meaning friends liked to mention. He didn’t want to fall in love again. Couldn’t risk that all-consuming pain again. Omar gulped, running a hand over his face. He needed to talk to someone. Anyone.
Yet for the past two years, he’d stuck mostly to himself. Besides Trinity and Rock, there weren’t that many people he confided in. And he’d always been careful of what he told Rock. Always remembered that the man had lost a daughter. He never wanted his grief to affect Rock’s.
No, there had to be someone else he could talk to who could keep the circumstances of his marriage quiet but offer good advice. Before he could recall his list of friends, the girls flew into the room. Faith climbed onto his lap with Joy quickly following suit.
He was like their personal jungle gym.
“You smell funny, Daddy,” Faith said solemnly.
Joy giggled and covered her nose.
He gave himself a good whiff and sighed. “I got skunked.”
Joy’s eyes widened. “What?”
“Daddy got sprayed by a skunk.”
“Go take a bath. With bubbles!” Faith clapped her hands.
Trinity smiled, shaking her head over Faith’s. She was probably still horrified by their bath-time mischief.
“Maybe I will.” The shower obviously hadn’t worked. Then again, who wanted to sit in the filth of skunk spray?
“You should.” Trinity stepped forward. “I’m going to take the girls to the park so they can get some fresh air.”
“All right.”
Then maybe he could figure out who to talk to. Might even call his parents. No, that wouldn’t work. He didn’t want his parents forming opinions that could negatively impact his friendship with Trinity.
“Have fun, girls.” He squeezed them, kissing each on the forehead before he got up and headed upstairs.
Chapter Ten
The peace and quiet surrounded Trinity like a warm blanket. She stared out into the night from her spot on the porch swing. The girls had run her into the ground at the park today. They couldn’t decide which activity they wanted to do, so they kept switching. Often. From the swing to the slide to the seesaw and back again. She’d been more than exhausted when they finally returned home.
Omar had seemed subdued all throughout dinner, barely cracking a smile. She couldn’t help but blame the moment they’d had in the living room. The one where their eyes had seemed to lock and meld. What did you call that?
She could still recall the intensity of his gaze and the way her pulse had picked up pace as if running a marathon. It had been exhilarating and terrifying all in one. If she viewed it under a romantic lens, their friendship would be forever altered. It was weird enough being married to her best friend. To bring in romance, break the safety net she’d purposely put in place...well, it just didn’t strike her smart meter.
She was thankful the girls had cried “Daddy.” The cheer had been shouted from the proverbial rooftop and severed the moment. As life returned to normal, Trinity had made a note to remember falling in love was not the choice for her.
She took a sip from her glass of water and sighed, settling into the swing. The creak of the front door caught her attention and she peeked over her shoulder. Omar. “Hey.”
Omar smiled and sat in the seat next to her. “Enjoying the quiet?”
“Mmm. I am.” She took a deep inhale. “Seems like you finally got rid of the eau de skunk.”
He chuckled and warmth slid into her middle. Omar had the best sounding laugh ever. It was like a warm Texas summer night. Don’t think of him like that! Hadn’t she just given herself a stern talking-to? Her heart couldn’t stand any more trauma as it still hadn’t fully recovered from Hurricane Jason.
“It’ll be a while before I see one without flinching.”
Right, the skunk. She shifted in her chair to get a better look at him. “How did you even cross paths?”
“We had to get a car out of a ditch today, because a drunk driver had lost control. Fortunately, he was okay, but his car...” Omar shook his head. “Anyway, I went down to hook his car up to the truck and there was the skunk. Like he was waiting for me. I took one step and poof.” His hands made an exploding motion.
“Oh wow. Guess it’d be too obvious to tell you to stay out of ditches?”
“Hardy har har. He probably told his buddies to be on the lookout.”
“Ew.” She wrinkled her nose. “Make sure you tell them I had no part in it, so be kind to me.”
“Ha. If I have to stink, you should. Married people share everything.” The smile on his face froze.
Oh, Omar. Her heart hurt for him. He had no idea how to handle their marriage. Lord, please help me know what to say. I don’t want to make it worse. “Omar.”
“Hmm?”
“You know we’re friends, right?”
“Of course I do.” His head jerked in confusion.
“And no matter what, we’ll always be friends.” Oh, how she prayed it would be so. She reached out and squeezed his hand in comfort. “Just because I have your last name and live in your home doesn’t mean I expect you to treat me like Christine.”
“You’re my wife.”
“Technically.” Surprisingly, the fact pricked like a splinter under her skin. She hadn’t felt so contrary about it when they first opted to get married. It was like, all of a sudden, she wanted to matter—the way a wife would. No. You’re friends first and last. Romantic love never ends well. You were jilted, and Omar lost his wife. Thinking of marriage as happily ever after was a liability she couldn’t afford.
“But still my wife.”
She stifled a sigh. “I know and you know, but it’s not like we’ve ever kissed or even thought of each other in a romantic way.’” She couldn’t. Wouldn’t. “I’m not Christine. You aren’t in love with me, and I’m not in love with you. I’m not the mother of your kids.” Her voice softened as her mind struggled with these truths. Each one brought a hurt, but the why of it escaped her.
“Trinity.” His brow furrowed and his tone held a slight note of scolding.
“What? It’s the truth.”
He reached for her hand, holding it loosely while staring down at their intertwined fingers. “Our marriage isn’t like my first, but that d
oesn’t mean I don’t care about you.”
“I know you do. I’m just trying to let you know, I don’t expect a real marriage.” But maybe, just maybe, she should.
She shook her head, attempting to shake the thought free. Preservation was key and something she needed to remember, to brand in her mind so she wouldn’t fall for trouble again.
“I don’t want to hurt you, Trinity.” His eyes pierced her. “I’d never want that. Ever.”
She bit the inside of her lip to keep it from trembling and gathered courage instead. “You won’t. I knew what I was getting into.” Not really. Did a person ever really know?
They could guess, speculate and dream up dozens of scenarios of how something would turn out. But life didn’t always align with plans or intentions. If it did, then her heart wouldn’t be feeling fresh pangs of hurt. Marriage to Omar was supposed to prevent that.
A man’s heart deviseth his way: but the Lord directeth his steps.
Her mind understood that, but her heart wanted to try anyway. She couldn’t map out her life, but man, she really wanted to. Lord, please help me seek Your will and walk accordingly.
“Still.” Omar’s voice brought her to the present.
“No.” She leaned forward. “I’ll be okay. You’re grieving and that affects how you view everything. I know that. Remember, BFFs.”
She held out a fist waiting for him to touch his to hers.
“Forever,” he replied with a fist bump.
Trinity smiled and settled back into her seat. She took another sip of her water. Hopefully it would calm her nerves and slow her racing heart. Despite her promise she’d be okay, Trinity was very much aware that could possibly turn out to be a lie.
Not an intentional one, but one caused by an unforeseen change of heart. No, you’re sticking to your plan. No romance. Plus, Omar’s not going to fall in love again and neither are you. Time to change the subject. “My mom is coming over tomorrow.”
“Oh yeah?”
She took another swig. “I think she’d like the role of grandmother.” She looked at Omar to see how he would handle the news.
“I can see that. She’s great with kids.”
“Is that okay with you?”
“Of course. Kids can’t have too much family.”
“You don’t think so?”
“Not at all.”
Huh. “Did you want a big family growing up?” She stared, curious. How had they never talked about this?
“I did. Being an only child was odd to me. It was one of the reasons I was glad you lived next door.” He paused and smirked at her. “Once I got over the fact you were a girl.”
She chuckled. “You just liked my tire swing.”
“Sure did. Still do.”
An idea came to her mind. “Want to go swing?”
“Really?” His lips twitched.
“Yeah. My parents might be up, but as long as we don’t make a ruckus they’ll never know.” She held up the baby monitor. “Plus, we have this.”
“Let’s do it, then.”
Trinity placed her cup on the porch and raced next door to her parents’ house. She laughed at the sound of footfalls behind her. Ducking her head, she put forth all her speed and—missed. Omar grabbed the rope and sank into the tire. Laughing, she placed her hands on her knees to catch her breath as he rocked back and forth.
“Slowpoke.”
“Your legs are longer,” she gasped.
He quirked an eyebrow. “Excuses.”
Trinity held the rope and stopped his movement. “It’s supposed to be ladies first.”
“Fine, fine.” He rose and bowed. “After you, m’lady.”
She turned away, settling into the tire, hoping Omar didn’t notice the flush that had surely filled her cheeks. Why did she feel so strange around him all of a sudden? It was like a switch had been turned on, alerting her to his masculine charm. No. She needed to turn the thing back off and just relax. Remember the friend of her childhood and ignore the firefighter physique stretching his T-shirt.
She let the swinging motion of the tire calm her and fill her with peace. She tilted her head back and looked into Omar’s smiling face, dancing in her vision. “Is it your turn?”
“Sure.”
He stopped the swing and they switched places. Trinity pushed him, using a little more force to move him. He had the muscles needed to haul the equipment he was responsible for on duty. And it showed.
“Trinity?”
“Hmm?” She pushed him.
“Why did you let Jason turn you into a recluse?”
Her brain shorted. What to say? Did she tell him the belief she was unworthy of love? Or use the old-adage defense mechanism?
“I mean,” Omar continued, “you’re wonderful. You have a lot to offer. It seems a shame you never got back out there again.”
Tears smarted. If she spoke, the tears might make an appearance, embarrassing her and cracking open the old hurt. Hopefully, Omar would take her silence as reflection.
“Just goes to show us men aren’t very smart.” Omar interrupted her musings.
“Why do you say that?” she croaked. She cleared her throat and repeated the question.
“Someone should have ignored your back-off sign and pursued you.” He stopped the swing and stood. “Showered you with the love you deserve.”
She opened her mouth to argue and froze when he placed his finger on her lips. Tingles of awareness shot across every nerve ending. Why couldn’t she stop noticing her best friend was a man?
“Your eyes flash fire sometimes,” he murmured. “I just can’t figure out what emotion triggers it.”
Attraction. She wanted to deny it, but it was there like the pesky mosquitoes that stung her. “I’m not sure I know what you mean. After all, I can’t see my eyes,” she quipped, ignoring the tension in the air.
“Are you angry?”
She shook her head.
“Irritated?”
At herself? Yes. A thousand times. She’d already told herself the dangers of letting her emotions get involved. Omar needed to remain in the best friend box and stay there.
Then he leaned forward to whisper into her ear, instead of waiting for her response. “I’ll just have to work on making you happy, so you won’t mind a marriage of convenience.”
Goose bumps covered the back of her neck.
“Your turn.” He motioned with his hand toward the tire swing.
She moved, wordless, hating the tangle of her emotions.
* * *
The atmosphere had shifted once again. Omar couldn’t explain what the change was, just that he had the innate desire to bring a smile to Trinity’s face. How had he so easily slipped from wrecked confusion over Christine to wanting Trinity to be happy?
Then again, were those emotions mutually exclusive? He’d always wanted Trinity to be happy. She was his best friend, would always be his best friend.
Trinity pumped her legs, moving the tire swing. The cicadas continued to serenade them as he pushed her, so she didn’t have to work so hard. Her fragrance floated on the summer breeze, and it seemed that nature itself was conspiring against him to set a mood for romance.
Protect your heart. If he could remember Christine, remember the pain that smothered him at her loss, then maybe he’d make it through this marriage intact.
“Maybe we should go back in. In case one of the girls needs us.”
Trinity stopped. “Of course.” She bit her lip, avoiding his gaze. “That would be best.”
They walked side by side toward the house. He stuffed his hands into his shorts’ pockets to keep from doing anything stupid, like reach out and hold her hand. Although he’d often held her hand to make a point in the past, now there seemed to be a romantic overtone attached to it. Or it’s all in my head.
The urge to break the silence tugged at him, but what could he say? They’d already hashed out the awkwardness on the front porch earlier. To claim something was different now would be a mistake. Maybe he should just keep quiet until he could look at Trinity as the friend she was, forget June seventh and the vows that tied them together.
Before Trinity could open the front door, he laid a hand on her elbow to stop her. “Hold up.”
“What’s wrong?” A look of confusion covered her face.
“I...” You what? “Never mind.” He dropped his hand.
“You okay?”
No. I’m stuck in my feelings. If Rider could get a peek at his thoughts, he’d clown Omar. He sighed, running a hand down his face. “I guess I have a lot on my mind.”
“More than earlier?”
He gave a noncommittal noise. “I’ll work it out.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah.” Because he had no choice. If he didn’t, he’d become a bear to be around. He just needed a moment to gather his thoughts.
“Okay, then I’m headed for bed.”
“Night.”
“Night, Omar.”
He watched as Trinity walked inside and headed for the stairs. Omar closed the front door softly and leaned against it. Earlier, he had tried to call a church friend for advice but ended the call before Zeke’s voice mail could pick up. Maybe he should give him another ring. Omar pulled his cell phone out of his back pocket and found his friend’s number in his contact list.
“Hey, Omar. What’s up? That’s twice in one day you’ve called.”
“Yeah, sorry I didn’t leave a message earlier.”
“Everything okay?”
Omar moved toward the kitchen. He didn’t want to sit in the living room. Not with a picture of Christine there as if watching his inner turmoil. He also didn’t want to have to whisper. The kitchen would give him a little more privacy.
“It’s about Trinity.”
“You mean that little announcement you made at church?”
His face burned. “Yes, that.”
“Why did you do it?”