by KB Winters
I’d have to find a way to set up a meeting with him. And soon.
****
Even though I had a fridge full of leftovers from Carly’s generous lunch, I decided to cook something for dinner. Cooking was therapeutic for me and the weekends were the only time I had the opportunity. During the week, my life was too hectic, and I usually ended up eating takeout or at best—a quick stop-and-grab at the grocery store.
Homemade marinara sauce simmered on the stove and turkey meatballs were braising away in the oven. I hadn’t gone all out and made fresh pasta, but had a box of the good stuff from the refrigerated section of the store and was getting ready to drop it into a pot of boiling water when I heard a knock on the front door. Hunter heard it too and jumped up from his place in front of the fireplace. He bolted for the front door, his toenails clacking on the wood.
I smiled to myself as I set aside the box of pasta. “Does Auntie Carly think I need full-time supervision?” I asked Hunter as I reached for the door handle. I tugged it open, preparing a playful lecture, but all the words slipped away as I realized it was not my bright-eyed friend on the front porch.
“Jack?” I finally managed to choke out.
Hunter lunged at him, dancing on his back legs to get Jack’s attention. He stroked his head and smiled as the oversize chocolate Lab made a fool of himself. When he looked up at me, his smile faltered. “Hello, Holly.”
“What—uh—what are you doing…here?” I stammered, a wave of nausea making me dizzy. I held on to the door frame to steady myself.
He stood straight and tall, his shoulders dropped back. It was a stance I’d seen so many times. At ease. An odd expression considering it still required a fairly stiff posture. “I wanted to let you know I was in town for the next few days.”
I tilted my head. That couldn’t possibly be the reason. I waited, seeing if he’d add to his opening line. When he didn’t, I shifted back. “Okay. So, what are you really doing here? What do you want?”
He dropped his gaze to the ground for moment before meeting my eyes. “I wanted to see you. To see how you are.”
Steam wafted out from the kitchen and I turned to look over my shoulder. “Do you want to come in? I was just making some dinner.”
His eyebrows drew together. “Are you sure?”
I nodded. “Yeah. You know I always make too much.”
He smiled faintly. “Sure.”
I snapped my fingers, but Hunter stayed on the porch, looking around frantically. My heart squeezed tight. “Any chance Princess is in the car?”
He smiled. “She is.”
“I don’t think Hunter would forgive either one of us if we left her out there. Why don’t you go get her? I’ll go check the oven.”
While Jack and Hunter went to rescue Princess from the backseat, I returned to the kitchen and tossed the pasta into the boiling water and then peeked into the oven. My hands shook as I stirred the sauce and pulled out a second plate and set of silverware. When everything was tended to, I smoothed my hands over my stomach. I’d worn an oversize sweater and was relieved that there was no chance Jack would notice the baby bump.
A second set of thundering paws joined Hunter’s and I turned to find Princess at my feet, her fan of a tail whipping wildly through the air. Tears sprang to my eyes as I sank down beside her and stroked her beautiful face. “I’ve missed you, girl,” I whispered against her head before planting a kiss on her velvet fur. When I opened my eyes, Jack was hovering over us, a wistful look in his eyes.
“Does she need dinner too?” I asked, pushing to my feet.
Jack nodded. “Think Hunter’ll mind sharing?”
We looked at Hunter who was standing at Princess’s side, his eyes bright. He couldn’t—or wouldn’t—stop licking her face and pawing at her to get her attention. I smiled at the doggy duo and then shook my head. “I doubt he’ll even notice. The food’s in the—” I stopped myself. Obviously, Jack knew where the dog food was kept.
“Right,” Jack said, moving toward the pantry.
Once the dogs were fed, we plated up the meal, and went to the dining room table. I dialed up the ambient lighting as bright as it would go. I didn’t need—or want—mood lighting. If I had it my way, I’d have turned on fluorescent bulbs as high as they’d go, turn the cozy dining room into a cafeteria. Nothing romantic or sentimental could exist under fluorescent tubes.
As it was, the lighting did nothing to help ease the dull ache in my chest as I watched him take his seat, place a napkin on his lap, and sip at the raspberry iced tea I’d poured. Normally with a dinner like this, I’d have served wine. He hadn’t questioned me when I’d poured two glasses of the sweet tea, but I wondered if he thought it was odd I hadn’t pulled out a bottle of red. Maybe I was overthinking things.
I studied him as he pushed the food with his fork, as though not quite sure where to start. He looked different somehow. There were lines at the sides of his eyes that looked deeper than before and his normally clean-cut face was covered with more than a few days’ worth of scruff. His hair was longer too. It didn’t look bad—as much as I wished it did—but it was off-putting. Confusing almost. Jack was always a clean-cut, straight-laced kind of man. Who was this man sitting across from me? Did this version better match up with his adventure-seeking, free-falling persona? Or was he just too tired to care what he looked like?
Jack glanced up from his plate and caught me staring at him. He offered a tight smile. “Thanks for dinner,” he said, although he hadn’t taken a bite. “Smells great.”
I nodded and picked up my own fork. What had smelled so good minutes before was suddenly overpowering and unappealing. But I took a few tepid bites anyway.
The silence thickened with each minute that ticked by, broken only by the dogs playing by the fireplace or the sounds of utensils hitting the plates, ice cubes clinking. After what felt like forever, Jack abandoned his fork, wiped his mouth, and rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “I didn’t think this would be so…awkward.”
I laughed softly. “Really? I don’t think dinner with the ex is ever not awkward.”
Jack kept his eyes on the salt and pepper shakers. “The ex. God…that sounds awful.”
It did. But it was the truth. There was no point in pretending, even as tempting as the notion was. There was a part of me that wanted nothing more than for Jack to take me in his arms, snuggle together on the couch with a fire roaring in the hearth, the dogs snoozing on the carpet, a couple of glasses of wine to either side of our feet propped up on the coffee table. Just like it used to be. Those lazy nights seemed like a million years ago, almost like I was seeing inside someone else’s memories. I could see the images, feel the emotions, but couldn’t quite touch them.
I set my fork aside. There was no point in pretending to eat. “Jack, listen, I don’t know what drove you to come over here tonight, but I’m fine. It’s fine that you’re back in town. I’m not going to have a problem with it. We didn’t have some nasty, blow-up fight. That was never us. I’m not going to burst into tears or throw produce at you if I see you at the grocery store.”
Jack smiled and lifted his eyes to mine. “Well, that’s a relief. I’d hate to be taken out by an extraordinarily tough avocado. Not the way a naval officer should go down.”
I laughed. “No. Not at all. I mean, if you’re going to be taken out by fruit, it should at least be a watermelon or a pumpkin. Maybe like that two hundred pound one, do you remember? The one we saw at that little festival outside Brussels…” My smile faded as the memory wandered through my mind.
Jack’s smile vanished too. “Yeah. I remember.”
His hand was resting on the table and I had to fist mine together in my lap to keep from reaching for it. The pain radiated from both of us, adding to the heavy atmosphere. I traced the lines of his mouth with my eyes, wishing I could press my lips to his and take away the sadness and regret lingering there. We could lose ourselves for a few hours, leave it all behind.
&n
bsp; I shook my head slightly, dismissing my own silent thoughts. It would only intensify the loneliness I was plagued by at night. I hated going to bed alone. Sharing my bed with Jack, even for a few hours, would only undo all the tiny millimeters of progress I’d made in learning to be on my own again.
“Tell me about New York,” I said, trying again. “You’re flying charters to Europe? Right?”
Jack nodded. “Mostly. I was in London a couple of days ago.”
“Wow! That sounds exciting.”
“Yeah. It’s a good change of pace.” Jack attempted a smile but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “What about you? Still working at Scoville?”
I nodded. “Yeah. It’s been great. Everyone is really nice and the ocean views from my office are a pretty sweet perk.”
Jack smiled. “Good. I’m happy for you. I’m glad it’s all worked out.”
Without thinking, I looked down at my hands and the place my engagement ring should have been. It hadn’t all worked out the way I wanted it to. But he knew that.
Didn’t he?
Chapter Six
Jack
Holly looked more stunning than I remembered. More tempting than my hottest dreams. She wasn’t trying to be. I’d caught her off guard, no makeup, wearing an old pair of blue jeans and a hoodie. Damn, she was still so beautiful. And she was still supposed to be mine.
Sitting beside her at the table—our table—like we used to, made it impossible to eat. Hell, it was hard to breathe. I wanted to hold her, touch her, run my fingers through her hair. Every second I sat there was pure agony. Part of me wished I hadn’t accepted her invitation to come inside and the other part of me never wanted to leave.
But I knew I had to. I didn’t trust myself. My emotions had been running dangerously close to the surface for weeks, and I knew it was only a matter of time before they got the best of me and I either said or did something stupid. I wanted Holly back, but I still didn’t know what I wanted out of life. Re-up my active duty? See the world through civilian eyes? Or stay here in Holiday Cove and settle down and have a family? It wasn’t fair to pin anything on her. That was too much weight for one person to carry.
We finished our dinner and I helped her clear the table. I offered to stay and help her wash dishes, but she turned me down, saying she’d get to them in the morning. I knew it was a lie. She hated going to bed while the kitchen was still a mess. But I could see the exhaustion in her eyes and didn’t want to argue the point.
“How long will you be in town?” she asked, setting the plates into a sink full of soapy water.
“Just a few days. My next scheduled flight is Thursday.”
She gave a slight nod. I couldn’t tell if my answer made her happy or not. “I was invited to go to Aaron and Gemma’s this coming weekend. So…I was just…”
I pocketed my hands. “Ahh. Well, rest assured, I won’t be there to make it weird.”
She smiled up at me. “I’ll leave my avocados and oversized pumpkins at home then.”
“Oh, good,” I replied with a chuckle.
I rounded up Princess and said goodbye to Hunter. Holly’s eyes were misty when we pulled them apart at the door. She said goodnight and I took Princess to the rental car. Before I backed out of the drive, I looked up and saw her watching me through the slim windows on the side of the front door. I raised a hand and she gave a quick wave before disappearing, the sheer curtain falling back into place as she walked away.
I reached over and patted her head. “Let’s go home, girl.”
****
I couldn’t remember walking into the bar, or ordering the first drink, or the second and surely not the third. Hell, I couldn’t even remember how many I’d had. All I could see, all I could think about, was Holly. That is, at least up until the point where my heavy-lidded eyes opened and found Aaron’s ugly mug staring down at me. He didn’t look happy.
“What the fuck is going on with you, Boomer? I’ve never seen you looking like such a fucking wreck.”
“I went to Holly’s.”
Aaron sighed. “Why?”
“I wanted to see her.”
“Yeah? And how’d that go?” Aaron sank down in the chair opposite mine.
I stared aimlessly around the bar for a moment, reacquainting myself with my surroundings. We were the only two people in the whole place, other than a grumpy looking woman at the bar. I vaguely remembered her. The room spun as I swiveled my head back toward Aaron. He looked grumpy too. “What the fuck are ya doin’ here, man?”
“Tina wants to close up for the night. It’s almost two in the morning. She called me because you’ve been sitting here all night, drunk off your ass, zoned out. She says she cut you off an hour ago. Why are you still out of it? What the hell is the matter with you?”
I shrugged one shoulder and swayed slightly in my seat.
“Boomer, you know, you used to be able to hold your damn liquor. You spent two years in Germany for fuck’s sake! What the hell were you doing over there if not drinking copious amounts of beer?” Aaron shoved to his feet and wrapped an arm around me, right under my armpits as he hauled me to my feet. He grimaced. “You’re getting fat too, you know.”
I growled at him. “It’s called muscle, Player. It’s good for you. You should try working out sometime.” I pushed away from him, tottering slightly as the room settled into place. “I can damn well walk on my own!”
Aaron stepped back and crossed his arms. He scowled up at me. “Then walk—that way—out of the bar so Tina can close up.”
I stumbled slightly but made it outside without issue. Aaron joined me a moment later, wallet in hand. “You owe me fifty bucks.”
I waved a hand at him. “She shouldn’t have called you. I don’t need a fucking babysitter.”
Aaron shoved his wallet into his back pocket. “Oh yeah? Then why were you sitting there, staring off into space like a fuckin’ drunk? Didn’t you notice everyone around you left? Tina said she told you it was closing time and you just ignored her. What are you, fucking catatonic?”
The cool night air brushed over my face and stirred me from my trance-like state. I was sure it had more to do with Holly than the drinks I’d chugged down over the past few hours. “I’m sorry, Player.” I said finally. “I uhm…I didn’t know where else to go.”
“Well, come on, let’s get you back to the house,” Aaron said, starting toward his old Army Jeep. “Princess is wondering where you are.”
I remembered that I’d taken her up to the house, dropped her off, and tried to get comfortable on the couch before deciding I needed a nightcap to get to sleep. Aaron usually had a stash of whiskey in the house but I hadn’t been able to find it and walked down to Harvey’s instead.
I climbed into the passenger seat and Aaron fired up the engine. “I can’t believe you still drive this thing.”
Aaron laughed. “Yeah, Gemma still gives me shit about it too. She seems to think I should give it to her since she was actually in the Army. Says she’d know how to handle it better than me.” He shook his head, still smiling like a fool. “Damn I love her.”
I rested my head back. It was going to hurt like hell in the morning. It’d been a long time since I’d had so much whiskey. And I’d chased it all down with a few beers. God, what was I thinking?
About Holly and how damn sexy she’d looked at dinner. I figured the alcohol would drown out all the feelings I had for her, but if anything—it only made me want her more.
“Did Holly actually let you in?” Aaron asked, taking the turn to go up to his house.
I nodded. “We had dinner.”
“Oh?”
“Nothing happened.”
“Ahh.”
“She’s over me, man. Moved on.” I sucked in a deep breath, trying to steady my head. “The house, everything, was different. Like I’d never even fucking existed. The pictures of us were all taken down and new ones were up. Hunter. Her and Rachel. Even a picture of her and Carly at Carly’s engagement pa
rty! Like I wasn’t even there! Like I wasn’t even there…” I trailed off, remembering the rows of pictures. “There were a bunch of pictures of us together. But that’s the one she wanted. That’s the one she picked. Her and Carly.”
“What did you expect her to do, Boomer? She’s allowed to move on. I know you’re a little fucked up right now, but you do remember the part where you up and moved three thousand fucking miles away?”
My eyes slammed shut. They were heavy and I didn’t feel like arguing with Player. Hell, I didn’t feel like anything right then.
****
A warm, soft light greeted me when my eyes opened the next morning. It took me a minute to realize where I was. The front passenger seat of Aaron’s Jeep. Flickers of the night before came back to me—along with a pounding headache—and I grimaced. I hadn’t made that much of an ass of myself since my twenties. Early twenties. I was too old for this shit. And I felt it, every one of my thirty-five years, as I moved to get out of the Jeep. My mouth was dry, leaving my tongue feeling like sandpaper, and the tension in my neck told me I’d likely slept with my head propped back, mouth hanging open.
“Shit,” I grumbled, slamming the door behind me before stalking up to the house.
The rich scent of coffee floated to me as soon as I stepped into the entryway, but I bypassed the kitchen and went straight to the bath room. I splashed water on my face, ran my fingers through my hair, and swallowed two cupped handfuls before going back to the kitchen. Gemma was sitting at the table, her tablet in one hand, a mug of steaming coffee in the other. Without looking up, she pointed her chin at the coffee pot. “Help yourself to whatever is left. Aaron’s already at work.”
“Thanks.”
I fixed a cup and chugged down half of it with a couple pain killers, not caring that it scorched my tongue.
“Jack, can I be honest with you?” Gemma asked.
I turned around, already knowing what she was going to say. I didn’t want to hear it, but I was crashing on her couch, drinking her coffee. What choice did I have?