Love Resurrected (Love in San Soloman Book 5)

by Denise Wells

  “We’ll be early if we leave now, City Hall is just around the corner. You want a cup of coffee or something, and we can head over together in a few minutes?”

  “Coffee sounds great, Bradley. Thank you.”

  I want to tell her it’s just Brad, but I kind of like the way she calls me Bradley. I head into the adjoining alcove where we keep the coffee and water dispenser. “How do you take it?”

  “Oh, black is fine. Thank you.”

  I bring her a cup of coffee and take a seat back behind the desk again. “Have you done one of these recruitment fairs before?” I ask.

  “Yes, quite a few times. I do a lot of this type of work for the police department.”

  “So, you’re the PD rep?” I ask and she nods.

  I had assumed she was the city program rep. “That’s got to be interesting. How’d you get roped into that?”

  “I volunteered.” She takes a sip of her coffee and grimaces. “Oh my, this coffee is terrible.”

  “I’m sorry, I should have warned you. We like it strong here at the station.”

  “That’s not just strong, Bradley. That’s downright awful. Let me make a fresh pot.” She heads to the kitchenette in the alcove and dumps the pot before I object. She hums to herself as she works. If I’m not mistaken, it’s “My Favorite Things.”

  She stops humming as soon as she steps back into the lobby. “Did you volunteer, Bradley?”

  “No.” I laugh, but it’s forced. “I definitely did not volunteer. They assigned me this task. Just this morning, in fact.”

  “Desk duty?” she asks with a smile as she returns to her chair.

  I duck my head, suddenly embarrassed by my so-called punishment. “Yep.”

  “What did you do?”

  “It’s more a question of what didn’t I do.”

  “You don’t strike me as the rebel-rouser type, Bradley.”

  “My fiancée died about three years ago. I took a long leave of absence afterward, but I still wasn’t handling it well when I returned to duty. I put myself and fellow firefighters in danger. Just being stupid.” I surprise myself by admitting that so freely to her. I’ve never done that before.

  “I’m so sorry to hear that,” she says, and in such a way I’m not sure if she’s sorry about Kat’s passing or that I was stupid.

  A few minutes later, the coffee maker beeps that it’s finished. I get up before she has a chance to and get us each a fresh cup, then hand her one.

  “My William passed over eight years ago. We were married for thirty-one years. Not a day goes by that I don’t think of him. I wish I could tell you it gets easier, but I doubt it ever does.”

  “I’m sorry for your loss,” I tell her.

  She waves a hand in the air. “I’m used to it now, but it took me a while to get there. I’m even seeing someone. Mostly for the sex, but I enjoy his company.”

  I choke on my coffee and when I look up, she winks at me. Not in a flirtatious way, more in a, “Ha ha, I shocked you,” kind of way.

  “I should have waited until you swallowed your coffee before I said that,” she says.

  Or not said it at all.

  “One benefit of getting older, you no longer have to filter anything you say.” She smiles. “So, tell me, how are you handling it now? Any better?”

  “Handling what?”

  “Your fiancée’s death.”

  I was afraid that’s what she meant. “I’m not sure that I’m handling it any better. At least not emotionally. I’ve stopped putting myself in dangerous situations. But my friends are really pushing me to date again, I’m just not sure I’m ready.”

  “Oh, you’ll never be ready.”

  “Trying to cheer me up here, Nessa?” I half-smile in her direction.

  “I just mean that if you are waiting to wake up one morning and feel better about everything and ready to move on with your life, that will never happen.”

  “Awesome, I look forward to it.” My voice is flat.

  “There is no cure for grief, Bradley.”

  “You said you think of your late husband—William, was it?—every day, so how is it you can move on?” I ask.

  “It’s a choice, dear. A simple decision at the start of your day.”

  “No offense, Nessa, but I doubt it’s that easy.”

  “I didn’t mean to imply that it’s easy. It’s not. But it’s a necessary evil. Whether or not you like it, life goes on. You are still alive, which means you keep on living.”

  She makes it sound so doable.

  “I don’t know if I can—” I start.

  “It doesn’t mean you love her any less. Miss her any less. It’s a tribute to how much the two of you loved each other to find love again.”

  “How is that a tribute?”

  “Well, how else do you recognize love again if not for having experienced it before?”

  I absorb her words, let them roll around in my brain for a moment. She makes sense. I just don’t like what she has to say because I’m still not fond of moving on. My thoughts are interrupted by my watch alarm, alerting me it’s time to walk to City Hall.

  “We can head over the mayor’s office now, if you’d like.”

  “Ready when you are.”

  I offer her my elbow and lead the way.

  9

  Tenley

  I arrive at the mayor’s office a few minutes early, so I head to the restroom first to freshen up. I had to park a few blocks away because I didn’t want to park at the fire station lot, which is the closest visitor parking for City Hall. Mainly because I have no idea if Brad is there or not, and I just kind of want to avoid him for a while. I’m a little uncomfortable with his dinner request last night and I don’t need him thinking I’m trying to run into him or something.

  It’s warm out and I’m a face-sweater, a fact that I abhor about myself. So, it’s good that I prefer not to wear a lot of makeup since I’ll sweat it off anyway. Even though it’s warm here, it’s still way more tolerable than the mugginess from back home in Texas.

  I press damp paper towels to my face to cool it off as best I can, then head back to the conference room, where everyone else has already gathered. I glance around and see the mayor, an older woman I’ve never seen before, and, oh shit—

  “Tenley, there you are,” the mayor says. “Grab a seat.” She gestures to a chair next to Brad. “This is Nessa Brighton, she’s the representative for the police department, and I believe you already know Brad Mathews from the SSFD.”

  “Great,” I mutter under my breath as I take my chair.

  Brad must hear me because he leans close and mutters, “Feeling’s mutual, sweetheart,” in an equally flat tone. The look he gives me is a fairly accurate representation of what I am feeling right now.

  Utter dismay.

  Brad Matthews is the last person I want to work with on this project.

  I turn to smile at Nessa and shake her hand. She’s a lovely well put-together woman who seems to be friendly. The mayor goes over the brief list of expectations she and the police and fire chiefs put together, and within ten minutes she’s gone, leaving the three of us on our own.

  “Nessa has done a lot of these before, we should let her take the lead with it,” Brad says once the mayor leaves, even though the mayor made it obvious I’m the point person and the two of them are here to assist me with any knowledge gaps I may have regarding their industries.

  “Uh, sure, that’s fine,” I say to the two of them.

  “The mayor was clear she wanted Tenley to take the lead, Bradley,” Nessa says.

  “I know. But I’m not keen on taking orders from Tenley.” Brad scowls at me as he says this, then turns to Nessa with a smile. “But I would have no issues taking orders from you.”

  “I wasn’t planning on giving orders to anyone,” I say, trying my best to give Brad a dirty look without Nessa seeing.

  “Sounds like you’re giving an order right there,” Brad says.

  “I’m not�
��” I start.

  “I take it the two of you knew each other before today?” Nessa says.

  “Sort of,” I answer.

  “That’s convenient. Are you friends?” she asks.

  “Absolutely not,” Brad says.

  “Wow. Okay,” I say. “Are you sure you don’t need me for practice?” I throw Brad’s word from last night back in his face.

  “Are you sure you don’t need me for practice?” Brad mimics.

  “Real mature.”

  “Practice for what, dear?” Nessa asks us both.

  Brad blanks his face, so I respond to Nessa’s question.

  “He asked me out last night.” I glare at Brad as I tell Nessa what happened. “But only because he’d promised a friend he would. Also, and I quote, ‘since we don’t really care for one another and I’m not attracted to you, you’re perfect to practice on,’ end quote.”

  “Well, he’s quite the charmer, isn’t he?” Nessa asks.

  “That’s what I said.”

  “Sitting right here,” Brad interjects.

  “I also called him Mr. Darcy,” I add.

  Nessa laughs. “That’s very accurate, dear.”

  “He didn’t get it,” I tell her.

  “No, I suppose he might not.” Nessa stifles her laughter, which does not amuse Brad.

  “If you ladies are finished, we have a job to do here.”

  “Yes, sir,” I say with a mock salute.

  Nessa raises her pen in the air to get our attention. “If I may make a suggestion, that we start with selecting a date.” It gets us started and we work together for the next couple hours and accomplish a lot. By late afternoon, we’ve exchanged phone numbers, and each leave the meeting with a small to-do list and the promise to meet at the fire station in a couple days’ time to regroup.

  The entire walk back to my car I’m tempted to text Brad, but I have no idea what I want to say. Part of me wants to call a truce, except I’m not sure if we’re fighting. I know we don’t like one another, but I also couldn’t tell you why. I get that sometimes people just don’t mesh together, and my guess is maybe that’s Brad and me. But I’ve also never not meshed with someone before. So, it bugs me I’m not meshing with him. If that’s the case with he and I, it makes me a little sad because he’s in my same group of friends and life would be much easier if we got along.

  Sigh.

  I reach my car, finally, and get in to head home. I enjoyed meeting Nessa today. She’s smart, calm, and nice. But mostly calm. Or at least she seems to have a calming effect on Brad. It’s clear he respects her and listens to what she has to say, which makes me wonder if they knew one another prior to this.

  Sadie calls me when I’m almost home.

  “Hey, mama,” I answer.

  “Hey, guess where I am?”

  “Disneyland?”

  She giggles. “No. The hospital.”

  “Ohmigod, is it time?”

  “No, it’s Braxton Hicks again. Which are horrifically painful. All those people who said that Braxton Hicks was no big deal should be shot. And worst of all, they don’t give you drugs for them.”

  “I knew this whole pregnancy thing was a mistake,” I joke.

  “Right?” she jokes back. “Now it’s too late, nothing I can do.”

  “Is Ethan there with you, want me to come by?”

  “Would you? I didn’t call him since he’s on shift, and I wasn’t sure if it was real or not.”

  “I’m already in my car. I’ll be there soon.”

  “There’s a reason I love you so much,” Sadie says.

  “See you soon. Tenley out.”

  I spend an hour at the hospital with Sadie before following her home, after which we have a slumber party. I stay because I’m convinced she’s going into labor early, and that it will be when Ethan is working. She asks me to stay because since she’s been pregnant, she hates being home alone when Ethan is at the station. So, we spend the evening watching chick flicks. Sadie falls asleep at the beginning of the second one, and I put a blanket over her and turn the volume down. I snap a picture and send it to Ethan, giving him an update on the day.

  I pull out my laptop to work on my part of the recruitment fair planning but search the internet for Brad Mathews instead. I’m surprised to find they featured him in the SSFD annual calendar a few times. But I’m not surprised to see he’s cut as fuck. The last time he posed must have been when Kat was still alive because his write-up mentions him living with his fiancée. I flip through the calendar’s photos, pausing on one of Ethan, Brad, and another guy all standing next to one another with helmets over their dicks.

  “I think he knocked me up again, just looking at that picture. Can you believe I have sex with that?” Sadie points to Ethan in the photo, having woken up. “Hey, are you perving on my man?”

  She knocks into me with her shoulder and I knock into her back.

  “Nah, I was just playing around online,” I tell her.

  “Were you cyber-stalking Brad?” she asks, eyes wide.

  “A little.” I cringe. “I can’t help it. He kind of fascinates me, even though I think he’s a prick.”

  “I get it,” she says.

  “You do?”

  “Sure. I mean, he’s all dark and broody, but obviously he was happy once, cause look at him. He’s way too attractive for his own good, and he’s kind of this dark horse in our group of friends.”

  “I’m the dark horse in our group of friends.”

  “No, no way, Ten. You’re the unicorn.”

  I lean over and kiss her cheek. “You’re required to say that as my best friend.”

  “Just like you’re required to tell me I still look great, even though I’m bloated as fuck and ready to pop out what must be a twenty-pound baby in a couple weeks.”

  “You look great,” I tell her honestly. “And if that baby is twenty pounds, and you push it out, I’ll give you a million dollars.”

  “Deal.” She extends her hand and we shake on it, giggling at the same time.

  She doesn’t know I’ve already set up an education fund for my new niece with enough money to send her to private and Ivy League schools from preschool to graduate school.

  I went to both private school and public school, depending upon my parental situation. My father has always had way more money than sense, which is why it surprised me my mom left us. Most women would have stuck around for the big paycheck. Not her. The sad thing is, I think my dad would have stayed married to her forever if he could. She’s the one that got away for him, and each subsequent wife since has just been him looking for a suitable replacement. Problem is, I’ve never been sure if she’s the one who got away because she’s gone, or because she really was the one.

  Which always has me wondering, when you find the one, shouldn’t it just always stick? Like, don’t they not leave you because they are the one? I guess that begs the question, if a person is the one for you, then are you automatically the one for them?

  Sadie grabs the remote and turns the volume back up. We are watching Someone Like You with Ashley Judd and Hugh Jackman. Hugh is crazy hot as Wolverine, but I dig him in this movie too. His character, Eddie, embodies everything I want in a man. Sexy womanizer not looking for love, falls for the girl who’s right in front of him when he least expects it. Even though she’s been there the whole time, the chemistry between them is off the charts.

  Let’s be real, I only want it because it’s total fiction and doesn’t remotely exist. Sigh. Maybe I’m more like my father than I realize, always wanting what’s just around the corner. The next best thing. The fantasy turned reality.

  I close my laptop and focus on the movie with Sadie. It’s right at the part where Jane and Ray—Ashley Judd and Greg Kinnear—admit they love each other. Which is all false since, unbeknownst to Jane, Ray is about to go back to his ex, Diane, played by Ellen Barkin, who is also both their boss. Complicated, I know. But it’s the complicated situations that are always the more in
teresting, am I right?

  Speaking of complicated, the picture of Brad with his helmet over his dick flashes through my mind. That has to be the work of my vagina, because she’s the only part of my body that would even remotely appreciate anything about that man.

  10

  Brad

  Tenley and Nessa are supposed to come by the station today to continue working on the recruitment fair. Nessa surprised me yesterday with a phone call, claiming to have been thinking about me and she felt the need to check in. In her defense, we bonded sort of quickly the first day we met, over similar life situations. She’s easy to talk to and has this calming effect on me that manifests as a truth serum. She makes me tell the truth about my feelings. I don’t know how she does it.

  She did it in person when we met, and again yesterday over the phone. I’d been at the boxing gym working out my frustrations on the speed bag, to no avail. Ten minutes on the phone with her did more than thirty minutes of sparring in the ring. Usually, there’s no better elixir than hitting and being hit. All she did was espouse a few more thoughts on the difficulty of living with grief. Somehow, the way she says it, makes it feel okay to immerse myself in it and still move on. As though you can do both at the same time, experience the oxymoron of debilitating grief with the progression of life.

  That said, today I feel better than I have in a long, long time. And by better, I mean emotionally. My outlook on the day is positive, and my disposition is, dare I say, happy. It’s unsettling but I kind of like it all the same.

  I look up and see the two women coming up the front walk together. Both dressed for the warm weather, Tenley is in a V-neck t-shirt, cut-off shorts, and Converse sneakers. Nessa in a knee-length shift dress and flat sandals and I wonder if I should adjust the air conditioning so it’s not so cold in here. They are standing in front of me before I decide.

  Nessa comes around the desk to give me a hug, while Tenley raises a hand in acknowledgment. I gesture to a small table I’ve pulled out from the rec room. “I thought we could set up shop here, if this works.”