by Jen Doyle
Oddly enough, however, Nate didn’t seem pissed. If anything, from the way he was holding himself—kind of tight and hunched over as he stared at the menu—Jack was pretty sure he was trying not to laugh. But Jack could be entirely wrong. And even if he wasn’t, Jack knew he was on his own in this fight. He’d been the one to throw down the gauntlet.
Well, whatever. If Lola didn’t want him that was fine. But there was no way in hell he’d let all these other guys get a shot without making sure he was firmly in the ring. Until she kicked him out of it, at least.
So when Deke planted himself between Jack and Lola and slipped a notepad out of his pocket, and said, “We sure do. Laced with arsenic. Should I get you two?” Jack’s response was, “Lola knows what I like. I’ll let her decide. And just for the record, three’s my lucky number.”
He braced himself. He could feel the tension settle into his muscles and bones, waiting for the moment he’d need to coil and then strike. But before Deke could so much as lean forward, Lola put herself in between them, soda gun in hand. To Deke, she said, “If you don’t let this go, I’ll find every set of handcuffs you own and will string them up the flagpole on the Town Green.” She turned to Jack. “And you. If you keep baiting him, you will never see me naked again.”
That was an interesting statement. Just to be clear... “So that means if I shut up, we get to—”
She let the seltzer fly, getting him right in the chest.
“Hey!” That shit was cold. Both the seltzer and the letting it fly. “Okay, okay.”
Satisfied she’d gotten her point across, she turned back to Deke and, in a much softer voice said, “I’m not having some crisis, okay? I know exactly what I want.”
“Really?” Deke spat out. “And what you truly want is to be sleeping with Jack Oxford? Three years to the day Dave died? I mean, for fuck’s sake, Lola—is this the kind of guy Dave would want for his family?”
Jack bit back the urge to go for Deke’s throat. Under any other circumstance, it would have taken every guy at this bar to hold him back. Oddly enough, however, it wasn’t because of what Deke had said, because Jack was mostly in agreement. It was more of the way he’d said it—and that he’d said it to Lola. But Lola could fight her own battles, as was obvious by the way she got right up in Deke’s face, not even one bit intimidated.
“Well, you know...” Her tone might have been conversational if not for the ice dripping from it and the tears she was only barely holding back. “Maybe if Dave were still here, I could ask him what kind of guy he’d like to have replace him. But since I can’t do that, I guess you’ll just have to accept the fact that I actually know how to parent my boys and mourn my dead husband.” She paused only long enough to draw in a ragged breath. “Don’t you dare think you have a right to tell me how to move on with the rest of my life.”
There weren’t a lot of people Jack had wanted to comfort in his life, but hell, how he wanted to pull her into his arms right then. He had no idea what he’d say once he had her there, but holding her tight was something he could do. He could also punch the fuck out of her brother for saying that, but Deke was already beating himself up. As he should.
“Jesus, Lola.” Visibly upset, Deke ran his hand over his face. “That’s not what I meant.”
Lola held herself rigid as he took a step toward her. Her hand came up to stop him. “Then maybe next time you should figure that part out before you say something.” Shifting her gaze to something over Deke’s shoulder, she took her apron off and headed toward the end of the bar, to the hallway leading to the restrooms just beyond it.
On her way past Jason, however, she stopped and said, “By the way, I’d put my money on Jack.” Then she was gone.
If his heart hadn’t just leapt into his throat, Jack would have gotten to her already. He wasn’t going to think about what it meant for her to have just declared to all of her friends she’d choose him. He just knew he needed to have his arms around her; they could take it from there. He was on his feet and headed after her before he realized Deke had done the same. Or that Jules, who Jack remembered mostly as distant and kind of haughty—which was saying something, coming from Jack—had also gotten up and was right behind them. They got as far as the hallway before Jules said, “Oh, hell, no.” One hand on each of their shoulders, she hauled them back. “You are both in a time out. Stop acting like two-year-olds!”
Shoving her way past them, she hesitated for a second before turning back around and getting in both of their faces. She actually slapped Deke’s chest and gave a little shove. “You’re a better man than that.” Then she jabbed Jack with the tip of her finger. “And despite all appearances to the contrary, I’m still holding out hope that you are.” She turned and disappeared down the hallway.
If Jack’s livelihood hadn’t depended on his hands, he would have done exactly what Deke did, which was to slam his fist into the wall. “Goddamn it!” Deke shouted. When Fitz came up behind him, her hand going to his back, he said, “I didn’t mean—”
“I know,” she said quietly, reaching up to give him a kiss. “It’ll be okay.” Then Fitz followed Jules, and Dorie went after them.
Leaving Jack and Deke alone in the hallway.
Well, shit. Jack really needed to stop running his mouth. He was tired of waiting to be hit all the time. And yet he found himself leaning back against the wall, folding his arms across his chest. “So—three years ago this week?”
Deke was tense, clearly expecting a dig of some kind, which, yes, Jack deserved. But he relaxed when he saw it was a straight out question. “Three years ago Sunday. November fifteenth.” He stared at Jack for a minute and leaned back against the opposite wall. “You know, I’m usually a pretty easygoing guy. Also generally a lot smarter than you’d think after hearing me say something like that.”
Yep. Jack did know. He’d actually always really liked Deke. He liked all of them. The bond they all had was entirely foreign to him on a personal level, but he could see the shadow of the basketball team they used to be. All these years later they were still so subliminally tight and supportive it was clear how they pushed each other higher, the whole so much greater than the sum of each part. Fitz and Jules and Lola and even Dorie seemed to be a part of it, too, although those relationships were obviously different. It was something Jack had noticed whenever anyone from home came to visit Nate. It was endlessly fascinating and, truth be told, envy-inspiring.
“Oh, yeah,” Jack said. “Me, too. Totally.” Which was such a lie that even people who didn’t know him from Adam wouldn’t believe it for a second.
It had the intended effect. After about a split second with a is-this-guy-on-crack? expression in his eyes, Deke laughed. So Jack was completely unready for Deke to follow that up and ask, “Why did you sleep with Courtney?” And unlike Lola, he didn’t pull it back.
For not the first time tonight, Jack wanted to hit the guy in the face, livelihood be damned. The topic was completely off-limits, even to the only two other people in the world it affected: Nate and Courtney. And yet Jack hoped that if he’d had a sister, he’d love her enough to be as ballsy as Deke was.
Jack looked down at the floor. He knew he’d never be good enough for Lola. But at the same time, and no matter how unfathomable it seemed, he liked her too much not to play it straight, even with her brother. “The day Nate married Courtney was the day he’d lose this.” He gestured around him. “All of you.”
He’d hoped that would be enough; he was clearly mistaken.
Deke leaned back against the wall across from Jack and nodded. “Go on.”
One look at Deke and it was clear there was no way out. And, well, maybe a part of him was ready to get it off his chest. To do what Nate had said and “move the fuck on.” So, with an uncharacteristic lump in his throat, Jack ran his hand through his hair and said, “Nate and I were at some bar after a ga
me when his phone rang. It was Fitz, and she was calling about Thanksgiving. Courtney had made it clear she didn’t want to spend the holidays here, and he...” Jack could remember vividly the way Nate had looked at the phone, taken a deep breath, and then sent the call to voicemail.
Fitz was the one person Nate would always drop everything for, yet he’d shut her down. Up until that moment, Jack had thought it was salvageable. Once things settled into place, Nate would go back to being Nate, and Courtney would just deal with it. But that was the day the line was crossed; and the only way it wouldn’t be written in permanent ink was if someone talked some sense into one of them.
Jack leaned his head back against the wall and closed his eyes. He couldn’t tell Deke he didn’t remember much after the fourth drink. Or that he’d seen a whole new side of Courtney that day and realized she was on the same path to self-destruction Nate was. The cold and calculating, shut-everyone-out-who-wasn’t-Nate ice queen was actually more of a lost soul than anyone had realized—including Nate. And she was hurting, too. It had been ironic that the one person in both of their lives who was completely dysfunctional when it came to relationships with other human beings, had been the only one to see how desperately unhappy each of them was. To see they were each about to ruin the other’s life. The worst part, of course, was, “I went there to talk. Only to talk.”
There was a moment of silence and Jack wasn’t sure if he’d open his eyes and see Deke had left him standing here alone, or if another sucker punch was coming at him. What he didn’t expect was to see Deke looking at him thoughtfully.
“Well,” Deke said after a few moments of silence. “Hate to be the guy to tell you this, but you fucked that up.”
At no point in the last year-and-a-half did Jack expect to laugh at anything revolving around this particular story. And yet that’s exactly what happened. “Yeah. But I did it spectacularly.”
Which made Deke laugh, too. He sobered quickly. “As if I’m one to talk.”
Jack had nothing to say to that so he kept silent as Deke hung his head.
After a minute, though, Deke looked up. “She’s the best person I know. She deserves to be happy. Hurt her and I will end you.”
It was on the tip of Jack’s tongue to say that he could make Lola happy. Very happy, indeed. He was attempting actual maturity here, however, so he just kept his mouth shut.
But he must have been wearing it on his face, because Deke looked at him for a minute before grinning and turning away. “There I was. So close to actually getting to hit you.”
“Should the urge come up again,” Jack couldn’t help but say, “I’d respectfully request you aim for the right side.” He was still recovering from when Nate had hit him the week before.
“I’d respectfully request you stop coming up with reasons to make me want to hit you,” Deke answered.
“Fair enough.” Not entirely willing to forgive Deke for coming at Lola like that, he added, “Same goes.” Then he reached out his hand. After a few seconds of staring down at it, Deke took it. To Jack’s surprise, rather than immediately letting go, Deke tugged him into a hug the way Nate would and clasped him on the back. It took a few seconds for Jack to reciprocate. These were not his friends, he had to remind himself.
When they came back into the dining room, though, Nate took a look at each of them and then nodded. Jason smiled and even Wash tipped his beer in Jack’s direction. An odd sense of peace slipped over Jack’s shoulders as he sat down on his stool and settled in to watch the basketball game.
* * *
Lola barely made it to the office without dissolving. The second she closed the door behind her, she collapsed into a quivering heap on the floor. She only vaguely registered Jules slipping in behind her and then Fitz and Dorie as well. It was probably a good five minutes later that her crying stopped long enough for her to even bring her head up. Realizing she was in Jules’s arms and Dorie was gently stroking her back and that Fitz—even Fitz, who tensed up if you tried to hug her—was holding her hands nearly set Lola off all over again.
If not for Jules yelling, “Tissues! Whiskey! Stat!” she totally would have.
But instead she found herself laughing as Jules pulled her up off the floor and the others leapt to do her bidding. Another minute later, Lola and Jules were settled onto the couch, tissue box in Lola’s lap, as Fitz handed out glasses filled with... “Johnny Walker Blue? Deke’s going to kill you.”
With an impish smile, Fitz shrugged. “As long as you don’t go rounding up the handcuffs, I’ll be fine.”
Jules’s eyes went wide. “Handcuffs? Don’t they hurt?”
“Only if you use them right,” Fitz answered, completely straight-faced. Dorie, on the other hand, actually started choking.
“For Heaven’s sake,” Lola managed, trying not to laugh. “Don’t waste the good stuff.” She took a drink, letting the amber liquid work its way down into her soul. A sense of calm came over her, enough for her to be able to actually say, “I almost slapped him. I almost slapped Deke.” The tears welled up again and she had to sit up straight, wrap her arms around her body in order not to let them take over again.
Then again, he’d never said anything like that to her before. And, even worse, she was afraid he was right.
Yesterday had been Veteran’s Day, a sacred day even before Dave had died. The one day the world stopped and there was no choice but to acknowledge the danger he was in every day, the fact that he might never come home again. And then he did come home, but the Dave she knew hadn’t quite made it back to her. After he died, just the thought of getting through the day made her nearly catatonic. She’d never talked to anyone about the way he’d changed; she’d always hoped maybe someone else had noticed. But they hadn’t from what she could tell, and it still wasn’t something she could bring herself to say, not even to these women whose blood nearly ran through her.
Deke was the one who had held her up on the days when she’d gone nearly out of her mind. She’d go through the motions necessary to make sure the boys honored their father, to make sure the Dave she’d known and loved for nearly her entire life would always live on in some way. And then she’d collapse in on herself, knowing Deke would swoop right in and take care of the boys even though it wasn’t exactly his favorite thing. And as Silas had gotten older, Deke was the one who would answer the questions when Lola couldn’t actually speak.
Yet what had Lola done yesterday? She’d flirted with Jack. She’d stood there in her kitchen-to-be and thought about all the things Jack had done to her two days before—and how much she would like for him to do them again. Deke was right to be angry.
Oh, God, what was she doing?
“It’s okay,” Jules murmured as Lola started to cry again.
“But it isn’t,” Lola said, blowing her nose. “He’ll be gone three years this week, and how do I commemorate the anniversary of my husband’s death? By having three hours of amazing sex.” Plus one twenty-minute interlude in the laundry room, although she wasn’t going to mention that. “What is wrong with me? Dave was my entire life. Jack isn’t even a guy I’m actively sleeping with.”
“Well, if it was three hours, it seems like it would be pretty active to me,” Dorie mumbled.
“Right?” Jules said, turning to Dorie. “That’s what I was thinking, I have to admit. Well, that, and who the hell has three whole hours of sex?”
Lola wasn’t so far gone to notice that both Dorie and Fitz suddenly found other things to be interested in.
Apparently Jules wasn’t so far gone, either. “Really?” she exclaimed. “Three hours?” Shaking her head, she muttered, “This divorce can’t be final soon enough.” She turned back to Lola. “So if you’re not still sleeping with Jack, could I have him? Because I would really like to know what three whole hours is like.”
To Lola’s horror, she heard herself
snap, “Jack is mine. Hands off.”
Jules smiled smugly. “Wow. You’re more into him than I thought.”
Wiping the last round of tears away, Lola shook her head. “I’m not into him at all.” Because she wasn’t. She wasn’t into anyone. “And anyway, he likes to get under Deke’s skin. Sex was just a side benefit.”
“Uh-uh,” Dorie said, straightening up as all eyes turned to her. “I call bullshit.”
“Bullshit on what part?” Lola asked, needing a bit of clarification.
Dorie stood, then started to pace. “Well, the Jack part for sure. I mean, he’s totally into you. That’s so obvious it doesn’t even bear saying.”
It didn’t?
“But the Dave part,” Dorie said, resuming her pacing. “I mean, I clearly didn’t know the man. And I’m sure he was amazing and all-around incredible.”
“He was,” Lola answered. At no point ever was that in doubt. “He absolutely was.”
Letting that hang there for a moment, Dorie just nodded. Then she went on. “So what if you had three hours of sex with Jack? You have four boys—seven and under. You run a household by yourself. You help run a business and that comes along with a full-time waitressing and managing job ‘on the side.’ Hell, right now you’re overseeing renovating a house.” She threw her hands up in the air. “It doesn’t matter what day is coming up—you have a crazy, freaking life! And if Jack made you forget about all that for even just those few hours, then more power to him.” She pointed to Lola. “Plus, if you’re the one who gets the direct benefit, then more power to you. So don’t sleep with him on Sunday. But other than that, I say you deserve to enjoy the hell out of it, whether you want more from him or not.”
Well, okay then. Lola hadn’t really thought about it that way.
Did she want more from him?
Did it really matter?
In terms of her boys, yes, although not because she was concerned in the same way Deke was—not after the way he’d taken care of all of them that night. But she wasn’t about to give her boys false hope about a relationship that wasn’t there. Whatever was left in her heart was for her family and her friends; she had no interest in marrying again, no interest in falling in love. Been there, done that, had the heartache to prove it. And although she wasn’t quite as ready to absolve herself from guilt as Dorie seemed able to, yes, she could separate Jack from Dave.