by Cindi Madsen
On the other hand, I didn’t want him to think I was pressuring him like his last girlfriend did.
As if he sensed I was thinking about him, my phone buzzed with a text from Brendan, telling me he was officially off duty and asking me what I was up to.
Me: Taking care of this reception at the Grove. I’ll probably be here fairly late.
I felt like I should add something to the text about how much I’d missed him and couldn’t wait to see him, but too many thoughts were buzzing through my head now, and I worried it’d sound desperate. I obviously didn’t know how to have a relationship anymore. There was too much pressure. Too many ways it could crash and burn and leave me crushed and scarred.
Crap, I’m gonna mess it up.
Me: Don’t feel like you need to wait up.
There. I’d left it up to him. Maybe a cowardly move, but at least it wasn’t desperate. Eventually, though, I needed to know if he and I were on the same page, and that meant finding a way to broach the topic. I couldn’t set myself up for another heart-shattering ending. I was working on becoming stronger, but break something enough times and eventually the pieces would no longer fit together.
I slipped my phone into my bra and circled the reception hall again. After the problem-ridden ceremony, I almost didn’t trust how flawlessly the reception was going, even though I had planned it to be that way.
I headed over to the food tables, where Jillian was starting to clear the main course away. Only a few minutes until cake time, which was always magical—cute bride and groom interaction followed by a sugar high. Talk about win-win. “How’s everything on your end?” I asked Jillian.
“Running smoothly. I was a little worried about the new guy, but he’s good.” Jillian pointed her meat fork at a young waiter running food back and forth.
“He looks sixteen.”
“Eighteen. Cute, though.”
“Slow down, cradle robber,” I teased. “By the way, how are things with the best man who needed toasting lessons? Tim, wasn’t it?”
“Already over. Fun while it lasted, though. But speaking of hot men…” Jillian leaned in. “I talked to Antonio again, and he asked for my number.”
“Score. Actually, that was my plan all along. Set the church on fire so you could get a date with a hot fireman. Hope I’m not going to hell for it.”
“I’ll let you know if it was worth it later,” Jillian said with a laugh. I left her with the food and went to check on the wedding party one more time.
The cake came and went, there was dancing, and then everyone blew bubbles as the newlyweds headed to their car and drove off. I stared at the JUST MARRIED written in the middle of the white shoe-polish heart and got a swimmy, twitterpated feeling about their new union. Maybe I still had other doubts about my life, but at least my career was finally back on track. As long as Phoebe didn’t write another column implying I didn’t know how to follow through on things, it should remain that way.
“D.J.?”
I turned, thinking I must’ve imagined the familiar voice. But there was no one else who called me D.J, and no one else’s voice caused my heart to leap in my chest like that. My earlier doubts melted as I took Brendan in, from his suit to his slightly messy hair that looked like he’d raked his fingers through it several times, to his perfect lips lifting in a slow smile.
“I came to see if I could help you out with anything.” He held up a coffee cup. “And I brought you a hazelnut macchiato, just in case you needed an extra boost.”
A lightness filled my head as I wrapped my arms around his waist. “My knight in shining Armani.”
Brendan glanced down and tugged on the bottom of his suit jacket. “I don’t even know who this is, but I’m sure it’s not Armani.”
I grinned and took the cup from him. “Well, nothing else rolls off the tongue the same.”
As I took my first sip of the heavenly brew, Brendan slid his hands behind my back and linked them, bringing my body against his. “Man, I missed you.”
My heart expanded. He missed me, too. “Right back at you.”
“I love my job most days, but that…” He sighed, adding to his adorably crumpled vibe. “I guess when you drop three and a half million in a week, though, you get what you want.”
I almost choked on my drink. “Seriously? They lost that much?”
Brendan nodded. “The wife’s crazy about the slots, and the husband likes poker and blackjack.”
“You could’ve gone home. Rested up.”
“I couldn’t wait any longer to see you.” Brendan brushed his lips across mine and then gave me a gentle kiss. Every glance, every gesture, his touch, all made me more of a believer in us. “Plus, I thought if I came and helped out, I could get you home even sooner.” The half-growling way he said it sent desire winding through my core.
All my questions from before suddenly seemed silly and inconsequential. And to think I was jumping in too fast was silly. The guy in front of me knew me better than most anyone in the whole world—he knew how I loved my coffee, about my neat-freak tendencies, odd bridal terror-alert color scale, that I held back my emotions, and all the other little things that made up the real me.
I wanted to believe that I wouldn’t get hurt again, but I knew there were no guarantees. Holding back in a relationship was dooming it to fail, though. Sometimes you had to simply dive in without knowing the endgame. And I wasn’t just saying that because my self-control was hanging on by a thread and I didn’t know how much longer I could wait to get him home and rip off his clothes.
I figured pulling out my phone to add a to-do list item might ruin the mood, so I mentally added Stop being scared of a real relationship with Brendan and just let it happen to the top of it. I set my coffee cup on a nearby table and tugged on the lapels of his jacket, pulling him down so I could reach his mouth with mine. Closing my eyes, I focused on the sensation of our bodies pressed together and bit lightly at his bottom lip.
He made a low noise in the back of his throat and splayed his hand on my back, eradicating the minuscule space between us. I slid my hands inside his jacket, feeling the strong muscles underneath his shirt and mentally calculating how long it’d be before we could get home and get rid of the layer between us. A distant part of me remembered that there were people around and I should at least use a little discretion. But the close part of me was enjoying having our bodies so entwined I didn’t know where he ended and I began. My breaths were his, our rapid heartbeats merged into one high-speed rhythm.
Then someone cleared her throat.
“Sorry to interrupt this get-a-room moment,” Jillian said. “But apparently the pregnant bridesmaid is puking again.” She held out her hand to Brendan. “Jillian, by the way. You must be the famous Brendan.”
At this point, I wasn’t sure why taking care of Elise was my job—the wedding and reception were all but over, the planning and execution done. But I supposed the staff would need to be notified, and the poor pregnant lady would probably need some help. I’d learned earlier today that her husband was a sympathy puker, too, and the last thing I needed was more people losing their dinner.
I knew this reception was too good to be true. I sighed. “Duty calls. Puking’s sorta the trump card.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Brendan said with a smile, then leaned in and kissed my cheek. “While you take care of that, I’ll just have Jillian here show me what I can help with.”
Jillian got a canary-eating grin and an alarm sounded through my head. She’d probably interrogate him as soon as I left them alone—possibly even threaten him while waving a knife around. I didn’t want her to scare him off now that I’d finally decided to stop putting our relationship under so much pressure. We didn’t need similar goals or to be defined right now. We needed light, fun, and the opposite of our past relationships.
I wanted to pull Jillian aside and ask her to take it easy on him, but then I saw Elise lean over and heave into the bushes strung with twinkling lights
, her husband beside her looking like he might go next, and I had no choice but to leave my two best friends behind and hope for the best all around.
Chapter Twenty-Four
There’s nothing quite like seeing your mother waiting on your doorstep when you think you’re about to have sex with your boyfriend for the first time. Total ice bucket of water over the head.
For a moment all I could do was blink, thinking—more like hoping—I was seeing things. “Mom?”
She stood up and hugged me. “Hey, hon. I was starting to worry I got the wrong address.”
I wanted to ask what she was doing here, but I knew she’d be offended, and it’s not like we saw each other very frequently.
“I sensed you needed me,” she said.
As usual, her mom senses were way off. “If you would’ve called, I’d have told you that I’m fine.”
“Yes, but you’d say that either way. Besides, you didn’t call me back when I tried to get a hold of you earlier this week.”
Because I’d been up to my eyeballs with wedding problems and hadn’t had the energy to deal with anything else. And while we’d come a long way in our relationship, I didn’t think we were quite at the drop-by-unannounced level.
Brendan drove his truck up the driveway, the headlights blinding me for a moment before disappearing inside the garage. I heard his truck door close and then he walked over, the lack of light making it hard for me to make out his features until he was right next to us. Mom had met him a few times in passing, although I doubted she’d recognize him now. If she’d gotten my address from Dad—she certainly hadn’t gotten from me—he’d probably told her I was living with him. Possibly that we were dating, but they rarely said much when they did speak, so maybe not.
“Brendan, you remember my mom?”
His shoulders tensed slightly. “Yeah. Cheryl, right?”
Mom extended her hand and shook his. Then we all stood in the doorway for an awkward beat.
“So…” I glanced at her car at the curb. “Where’s Frank?”
“Oh, he was busy with something or other. Like I said, I just sensed you needed me, so I got in my car and drove. I was thinking we could go shopping tomorrow. It’s so rare I get a girls’ day, and Frank simply abhors shopping.”
Something about the way she said his name made me wonder if her impromptu visit was more for her than me. No doubt she was getting antsy again, feeling trapped by being settled in one place. Classic Mom. She’d left every good man she’d had, all in the pursuit of a magical grass is greener on the other side option, whether it be the next job, the next town, the next guy.
And now she’d chosen my life as a distraction from hers.
“I hope it’s okay if I stay with you. Just for a couple of days.” Mom draped her arm over my shoulders. “I missed my girl.”
Brendan glanced from her to me, and his eyebrows rose in a silent question. Telepathy would come in really handy right now. I shrugged, and Brendan looked back at Mom. “Of course. Can I get your bag?”
“Oh, aren’t you a gentleman!” Mom hooked her arm through Brendan’s, her mouth moving a mile a minute as she led him to her car. He got her suitcase, walked her inside, and set her up in the spare bedroom.
When she ducked into the bathroom, I turned to Brendan. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know she was coming.”
“Do you want her here?” he whispered.
“‘Want’ is a strong word.” I ran a hand through my hair. “I have a feeling she’s having trouble with her job or with Frank. That’s when she tends to visit, and I don’t know how to say no. She’s my mom, and I don’t get to see her very often.”
“I understand. I can’t help feeling protective of you, though.” Brendan grabbed my hand and kissed the top of it, holding it next to his lips as he spoke. “I know your mom’s hurt you before, and I don’t want her to do it again.”
“It’s okay. I’m all grown up now. And she’s…well, still her, but I think she does the best she knows how.” I’d wasted plenty of time as a kid wondering how she could have left me, and like a lot of kids, couldn’t help thinking I’d done something wrong. Now that I was older, I knew it was her issues that had made her leave, not mine. Still, part of me worried that one day I’d find out I was also a sucky mother. But even if I struggled, I’d never leave my kid, no matter what. I’d figure it out.
“Well, I’m still going to run defense, just to make sure.”
My mom came out of the bathroom and I could feel my muscles tense, preparing for whatever she’d say next. Brendan pulled me close and shot me a glance that said he had my back. What other guy would try to protect me from my mom?
She looked from me to Brendan and a crease formed between her eyebrows. “Oh. Your father didn’t tell me you two were dating. But that makes sense. Dakota never could go long without a boyfriend.”
I flinched, but Brendan took my hand, lacing his fingers through mine.
“Anyway, I came here to gamble as well as see my little girl, but I’m rusty.” She reached into her purse and withdrew a deck of playing cards that was still sealed in plastic. “Who’s up for a game of Texas Hold’em?”
…
I filled up Cupid’s food bowl and patted his head. “What do you think, buddy? Our new home’s working out pretty nicely, isn’t it?”
He turned and licked my hand, and then went back to his food. I covered a yawn and eyed the coffeemaker, hoping that’d speed it up. Mom had kept Brendan and me up until two thirty in the morning, “prepping” for hitting the casinos. After the hectic week we’d both had, we were dragging and hardly good company, but she’d insisted we keep going, finding excuse after excuse to drag it out a little longer. One more round. Could Brendan explain craps to her? Somewhere in there she’d also asked Brendan to tell her how she could get the inside track and take it to the house, swearing she wouldn’t use it at the casino he worked at. He’d taken it all in stride and, with a polite smile, told her she’d just have to play the odds.
Odds. Also known as the reason I wasn’t a good gambler. I liked knowing the outcome, not hoping for it, and Lady Luck always seemed to give me more of a passive-aggressive smirk than smile down on me.
“Morning!” Mom’s greeting was cheery and high-pitched.
Exhibit A of my bad luck, ladies and gentlemen. Guilt pinched my gut for even mentally referring to her as bad luck. Seriously, though, her timing last night couldn’t have been worse. Now I had to deal with being frustrated and on guard.
I reached for the coffeepot. The drops sizzled when they hit the now-empty warming plate. As a goodwill gesture I filled Mom a cup, too. The hazelnut creamer clouded the dark liquid as I poured it in, and I could hardly wait for the cup to hit my lips.
Mom tossed a copy of the Las Vegas Beacon on the counter next to me. “You’re in here.”
I slid one of the mugs over to her. “Yes, I write the Ready to Wed column. I’ve told you that before.”
“That’s why I picked up the paper to check it out. But I don’t mean your column. I mean this.” She stabbed a finger at the middle of the page, and I saw the heading to Phoebe’s social column. Right there at the top was my name. My stomach bottomed out when I saw the name next to it.
Dakota Halifax is currently dating Brendan West, one of the security personnel at the brand-new Aces Resort and Casino. While she and her current beau started out as friends, she assured me they’ve moved past that. But she also said that “he’s the one for right now,” and sounded pretty hesitant about even that. Guess we’ll have to see who she steps out with next, because this reporter is pretty sure her rebound is about to be bounced.
“Does Brendan know?” Mom asked, leaning back and craning her neck toward the hallway. Brendan hadn’t come out of his room yet, and I hoped he wouldn’t choose now to do so. “I could sense something was up between you, but I had no idea that—”
“It’s not true.” I doubted Brendan would ever read that section in the paper, but since this
apparently was going to become a thing, I should probably let him know we’d occasionally be featured in the social column. “Damn Phoebe! I should’ve known better than to say one word to her. I should’ve made her walk home.”
Anger started pumping through me, and I didn’t want to use the tricks I’d learned in anger management classes to tamp it down. I wanted to let it wash over me and burn strong. Doing what Ron had asked me to had only gotten my relationship publicly smeared.
“Well, if you were feeling too much pressure living with him already, it’d be totally understandable,” Mom said. “It’s not a bad thing to need space.”
“I care about Brendan, and I like living with him. I don’t want him to read this and think I’m a heartbeat from running.” I took the paper and jammed it into the bottom of my workbag, so he wouldn’t see it on the counter, Phoebe’s awful words about him faceup. As soon as I got a chance to talk to him alone, where my mom wouldn’t be able to add her ever-so-helpful comments, I’d explain. Guess having that talk about our relationship and how we were going to define it was no longer optional.
Mom tipped back her coffee and then set the mug in the sink. “Come on. Let’s get out of here, go shopping, and forget about everything else for a while. It’ll do you some good.”
I was pretty sure she meant it’d do her some good, but the walls did suddenly seem to be closing in. “Later, Cupid,” I said, running my hand over his head and then scooping up my purse. As I followed Mom outside, I thought maybe a couple of new outfits would make me feel better. It was probably a healthier alternative than driving over to Phoebe’s place.
Because if I saw her right now, I’d be doing way more than threatening.
…
Mom and I were three shops and several bags into our excursion when she heaved a sigh. “I don’t know if Frank and I are going to work out.”
I replaced the silky top I was looking at on the rack and turned to her. “I thought you were happy about setting up roots. That you were ready to slow down.”
“Well, I thought so, too. But here’s the truth, Dakota. You and I, we’re not the settling-down type, no matter how hard we try to be.”