***
“Nathaniel, I … ”
“Theresa,” he said in that strong, authoritative voice. He was so friggin' sure of himself that it was hard for me to entertain option two for very long. He's just looking for sex, Theresa, I tried to tell myself and then immediately followed that up with, but is that a bad thing? Maybe you could use a little unattached sex right now? I looked up into Nathaniel's heated face, his warm eyes, so unlike Gary's that they'd be listed as antonyms in a dictionary, and I knew that there was no such thing as unattached with this man. Once he had a hold on me, he wasn't going to let go. “I know that you don't know me and that this is a long shot, but I think there's something here that could work.”
“I … ” I tried to protest, but then he was just there, wrapping his strong arms around me, pressing his mouth to mine, trailing his heated kisses down my neck. “I don't know if I can do this. I'm still … Gary is … oh God.”
“I'm not asking you to marry me,” Nathaniel said as he paused and pressed his forehead against mine. “Or make promises you can't keep. I just want to get to know you. Is that so bad?”
“Nathaniel, … ” I whispered, but it was the only word I could think to say. Nathaniel didn't pause for long, grabbing me gently by the upper arms and spinning me around so that he could tug down the zipper on my dress.
***
Table of Contents
Excerpt
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Epilogue
Books By C.M. Stunich
About the Author
C.M. Stunich
Sarian Royal
Broken Pasts
C.M. Stunich
Copyright © C.M. Stunich 2012
All rights reserved. Formatted in the United States of America. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
For information address Sarian Royal Indie Publishing, 1863 Pioneer Pkwy. E Ste. 203, Springfield, OR 97477-3907.
www.sarianroyal.com
ISBN-10: 1938623339 (eBook)
ISBN-13: 978-1-938623-33-2 (eBook)
Cover art and design © Amanda Carroll and Sarian Royal
Optimus Princeps font © Manfred Klein
Champignon © ClaudeP
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, businesses, or locales is coincidental and is not intended by the author.
to Brandy Little,
friend, editor, and all around amazing woman
CHAPTER 1
“I swear to God, if you don't leave me alone, I'm going to file a restraining order against you,” I screamed in the middle of the grocery store. Faces turned to look at me, most of them lined with the telltale signs of age. Wrinkled mouths pursed angrily and older men in polo shirts snorted gruffly. I adjusted my stained tank top and tried to hide my flannel pajama pants behind my cart. “Stop calling me, Gary,” I said, lowering my voice to a whisper. Yelling wasn't helping; it had yet to get him off my case. All I was doing was pissing off the other early morning shoppers. Normally I wouldn't have come out at this time, but I needed alcohol. Hard alcohol. I was thinking Jägermeister.
“But I love you,” he told me as I rolled my eyes and tried to keep to the edge of the cereal aisle. When we'd first broken up, all I'd wanted was for Gary to call. Now I couldn't get him to stop. “I want to be with you, Theresa. I'm sorry.” He paused and I could hear him breathing against the receiver. “Look, I didn't mean what I said, please. Let's just get back together.” I shook my head, not caring that he wasn't there to see me. If I never saw Gary's face again, that would be more than enough for me. The things he'd said, the things he'd threatened, I would never forget those. I had given him a second chance and that had been one too many.
“I'm hanging up now, Gary. Don't call me again.” I ended the call and threw the phone in my purse. It promptly started ringing again. I pulled it back out, turned it to silent and put it away. Thirty missed calls in two days. Incredible. I wrote it off as simple desperation. I knew what it was like to be lonely. It wasn't easy, especially not for someone as emotionally shallow as Gary Harper.
I grabbed a couple boxes of cereal without looking at them and tossed them into the cart. Purple, red, pink. As long as they were colorful, Rhea would eat them. I smiled. Rhea was like the wick that kept me burning. Without her, I would've gone out a long time ago. But you still need oil, I thought as I turned the corner and forced myself to go down the next aisle. I was not checking out at eight in the morning with a few boxes of cereal and a bottle of Jäger. If I was going to keep my dignity in check, I was going to at least pretend I was here to buy the week's groceries. Somehow I made it into the ice cream aisle without realizing it, and stood staring at the pints of chocolate. If I was going to spend New Year's Eve by myself, I might as well enjoy it. I opened the glass door to the freezer and pulled out several cartons, refusing to look at the calorie counts on the back. It wasn't like it mattered anyway. I was thirty-two, single, and hopelessly alone.
With a sigh, I continued my shopping and was halfway across the parking lot, grocery bags in hand when I saw him. Gary was leaning against my car with his arms crossed over his chest. I paused near the cart return and debated turning around and heading back into the store when he saw me. He raced over and rescued one of the drooping bags from my tired arms.
“God, Theresa,” he said with a chuckle. “What have you got in there?” I walked quickly ahead of him and unlocked the trunk. I tossed my bag in first and whirled to face him.
“You can't keep doing this,” I said as I stared him down. He was still handsome, of course, but in a shallow way. I knew what kind of person lurked behind those warm, brown eyes, the rush of anger that had clenched that perfect, square jaw. I'd been afraid he was going to hit me, really afraid. That was something I was never going to go through again. I had the gun to prove it. It was stashed in a drawer at home, brand new and unused. I was going to learn how to use it someday soon, but I hadn't yet gotten around to it. Seeing him in the parking lot made me wish I'd already done that. “This is getting weird, Gary. How did you even know I was here?” He put the grocery bag in the trunk and stepped back, hands up like he was trying to prove his own innocence.
“I didn't know you were here,” he said with a shrug. “I just stopped in to pick up some things and saw your car, that's all. Come on, Theresa, what do you take for me?” He tried to reach out and touch me, but I pulled away.
“That's enough, Gary,” I said as I moved around to the driver's side of the Camry. “Just sign the divorce papers and let's be done with this.” I didn't wait for him to answer, just climbed into the vehicle and started the car. With barely a glance in his direction, I pulled out of the space and left the parking lot. Five minutes later, when I checked my phone, I already had two missed calls. “What the hell is wrong with you?” I wondered as I saw that the most recent was from Gary. With a sigh, I skipped past it and returned the other call.
“Theresa, don't say a word,” Jamie said as
a chorus of 'Mom!'s echoed in the background. “I've only got a minute. All of Joel's family is here for the barbeque.”
“I'm not intruding on your family time, Jamie,” I protested before she could ask again. She shushed me and shouted something about cupcakes to the assorted children that were no doubt driving her completely nuts.
“That's not what I'm calling for. It's like beating a dead horse trying to get you to come over here.” I heard quite a few ewws in response to her idiom. “Is Rhea with Glen tonight?” I wrinkled my face as I pulled into my driveway and turned off the car.
“Rhea is spending the week in Hawaii with Glen,” I said as I tried not to sound disappointed. Glen had three other daughters; I only had one. The least he could've done was let her spend the holiday with me. Sometimes, I had the feeling that Glen would be happy if something were to happen to me. I wasn't Rhea's biological mother after all. If I gave him the chance, he'd slap his new wife's name on the adoption papers before the ink was even dry on my death certificate. It was not a good feeling. I had one crazy ex-husband and one vindictive one.
“Great,” Jamie said as I climbed out of the car and opened the trunk. “Then you're free tonight?” I grunted noncommittally, unsure where this was going. “Then let me set you up. Joel's friend, Stuart, is in town and he's – ” I groaned.
“Stop playing romantic comedy cliché roulette with my life,” I said as I tucked the phone against my shoulder and grabbed a bag in each hand. My big hips came in handy, working in unison with my elbows to create a shelf for the groceries as I struggled to shut the trunk. “You set me up with Gary and look where that went.”
“Yeah,” Jamie said as she put something in her mouth and tried to talk around it. “It led to a marriage.”
“It lasted six months,” I said as I set the bags down on my front porch and tried to reason with Jamie. It wasn't easy: she was a prosecutor for a living. “And now he's calling me a hundred times a day and 'bumping',” I made little quotes with my fingers even though there was no one there to see. My neighbors probably thought I was crazy. “Into me at the grocery store.”
“So he's stalking you?” she asked, but she didn't sound concerned. It was the first time I had thought of Gary in that way. It would not be the last. “All the more reason to go out with Stuart tonight.”
“I already have a date with a pint of ice cream and a glass of Jäger.”
“Now who's romantic comedy cliché?” she asked, pulling whatever it was she'd put in her mouth, out. It was probably a lollipop. Jamie had some oral fixation issues that were a frequented topic on girls' night and, according to her, the reason she had such a peaceful marriage. Long as he returns the favor, she'd always say.
“I'm not romantic comedy cliché,” I said as I finally got the door unlocked. “More like tearful drama cliché.” Jamie sighed and I could just visualize her, dark hair pulled back, eyes narrowed and rolling. “Besides, think about what you're saying. Stuart. Stuart. Think about calling that out in bed. I just can't imagine screaming Stuart in the throes of passion.” I slid the bags of groceries into the house and went inside, locking the door behind me.
“Then call him Stu,” she said as I heard Joel shouting behind her about Kool-Aid on the carpet. “Just say yes or I'm going to have to call him back and tell him not to pick you up at your place tonight at six.” I groaned and slid down the wood of the door, already fishing around in the grocery bag for my Jäger. I was going to need it to get through another blind date. I twisted the top off, took a swig and sighed my deep, heavy, I give up sigh. “Perfect,” Jamie said as she kissed the receiver and put the lollipop back in her mouth. “Tall, dark, and handsome will see you at your door, dressed to kill.” She paused. “Goddamn it, boys, don't put cold meat on the grill.” I smiled as Jamie returned her attention back to me. “I gotta go. Men these days don't even know how to barbeque right. What's wrong with society today?” She ended the call on that note as I stood up and tried to convince myself that I was going to have a good night.
“I should've just gone to the damned barbeque,” I said to no one as I picked up the groceries and tried to figure out what the hell I was going to wear.
CHAPTER 2
Stuart Moore was a well dressed, relatively handsome middle aged man with a nice car and perfectly fine manners.
He was one hundred percent, absolutely not my type. It's not like I was into cavemen or bad boys or anything of the sort. It's just, I liked some spice. I liked my guys to be complicated, interesting. And you have such great taste, Theresa, I said to myself as I adjusted the fabric of my dress and tried to convince myself that it wasn't too short. Stuart's eyes had traced the long lines of my thighs more times that I would've liked to admit. You chose Glen and Gary for death do you part. Give this guy a chance. So I followed Mr. Khaki Suit out of his BMW and into the restaurant. He didn't hold the door open for me which was a bad sign, but I assuaged my fears by saying that feminism went both ways. I can open my own door. But if he asked me to pay half the check, I was out of there. Call me old fashioned, but it's true.
“I hope Jamie didn't guilt trip you into this,” I said, trying to lighten the mood with a joke as the host led us through a bustling restaurant filled to capacity with noisy New Year's parties. Stuart didn't respond until we got to the table where he didn't pull out my chair for me. I pulled it out myself and sat down, smoothing my hands down the red fabric of my dress. It didn't fit quite as well as the day I'd first bought it, but I thought I looked nice with my black pumps and the silver eye of Horus gleaming on the golden plane of my chest. Rhea had bought the necklace for me with her own money on one of the trips she'd gone on with Glen. Since you couldn't be there, she'd told me, pooling the silver chain in my palm. It'll protect you. I let that warmth fill my smile as I looked over at Stuart's broad forehead and blue eyes. His curly, black hair was perfectly arranged atop his head and his mouth was quirked into his own smile, one that didn't quite reach his eyes.
“I don't know what you mean?” Stuart asked turning our date from blind to awkward. I shook my head and picked up my menu.
“Never mind,” I said as my eyes scoured the prices. He is definitely a split the check kind of guy, I thought as I picked out the cheapest thing there.
“Shall I order a bottle of wine?” he asked, taking off his jacket and revealing rather broad shoulders. Okay, okay, I told myself. This could work out. Mr. Moore has a good body under that boring suit.
“That would be great,” I said as he held out the wine list. “Oh, I'm not picky,” I told him, waving my hand dismissively. “Whatever works best for you is fine with me.”
“I don't drink,” Stuart said and I think I knew then and there that the night was going to go sour. Jamie had sent me out on New Year's Eve with a teetotaler for a date. I hid my cringe and took the list between two fingers. I scoured it for a moment and once again let price make my decision. If I was ever going to get out of my brother's rental house and into one of my own, sacrifices had to be made. I had a good sized down payment built up already, but there was no sense in wasting any of it on a date with a man I knew I wasn't going to like. “So, Ms. McMaster,” Stuart continued, clearing his throat. “Joel tells me you have a daughter?” I nodded and reached up to finger the necklace. The silver eye was my life raft whenever I was lost at sea. And by lost at sea, I mean sitting in the middle of a crowded five star restaurant with overpriced food and a man with a nice chest but no tact. “But that she's not your biological child?” I tried not to sigh.
“My first husband and I adopted her when she was an infant,” I said not bothering to go into details. Rhea had the same dark hair and olive complexion that I did. It was easy to pass her off as my biological daughter. Even she didn't know otherwise. One day, I would have to tell her, but for right now, things were perfect between us. Why throw her a curve ball?
“Because of your miscarriage?” he asked and I did grit my teeth at that. I was going to kill Jamie when I saw her. “I'm sorr
y,” he said suddenly, as if he'd finally realized what he'd just said and how completely and utterly inappropriate it was. “I haven't been on a date in awhile. I think I'm just nervous, how about you?” He tried to smile then and it was much more pleasant, definitely more genuine. I took a deep breath and tried to think of his comments as a sign of his curiosity rather than his disrespect.
“It's okay,” I said as I relaxed the muscles in my forehead and leaned my elbows on the table. “I've never been a big fan of first dates. With my second husband,” I paused, wondering how smart it was to talk to my date about my ex. I decided that Stuart and I most likely were headed nowhere and forged on with the determination to enjoy my night. “I spilled a cup of steaming coffee into his lap and gave him second degree burns on his thighs.” I smiled and Stuart chuckled. I had taken Gary to urgent care and spent a wonderful night just talking. Once upon a time, he'd been perfect. I reached down to my purse and snuck a glance at my phone. No missed calls. I nearly sighed with relief. Finally. If I could start out the New Year with anything, it would be a fresh start. No men, just me. And Rhea, of course.
I looked over the balustrade and down into the lower portion of the dining room. A chandelier hung over the white table cloths and glimmered like a promise. I made a New Year's resolution right then and there not to get involved with anyone else until I was fully comfortable with myself and the choices I'd made. Your life is not a mistake, just an experience.
Why is it that when you finally find your feet, life always finds a way to knock you back down again?
***
Stuart and I didn't leave the restaurant until well after midnight.
Despite our rough start, things were actually going fairly well. We'd shared dating horror stories like the best of girlfriends and after I'd gotten a couple of glasses of wine down, we'd actually started to flirt. I'd spent half the night with Stuart's warm hand caressing my thigh. Previous declarations aside, he was a handsome man and I was lonely. I told myself that there was absolutely nothing wrong with my asking him to come home with me. In all honesty, he'd given me the best holiday I'd had in years. I wasn't alone and I wasn't thinking about the past. On their own, either of those things was enough to make my day. Combined, they practically made my year.
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