by Tanya Wright
Yeah, no big deal at all.
He had upset her when he brought up the dreams. He shouldn’t have said anything. It really wasn’t any of his business.
A week ago, they hadn’t had any secrets between them. At least none that he knew about. She told him everything. It just further proved his point—that kiss had already done damage to their friendship, and he couldn’t risk any more.
“Have you given the tattoo any more thought?” he called out as she placed the dirty dishes in the sink.
“Yes. How serious are you about that, anyway?”
“I’m always up for some new ink. What about you? Have you changed your mind?”
“Well, I’ve been thinking about it...”
“And?”
“I think I know what I want to get if I decide to do it.”
Suddenly images of a tattoo on her flawless skin came to mind. Why exactly had he brought up this subject?
“Oh, okay. So if we do it, what are you going to get done?”
“Well, when I was going through those letters from Drew the other day I noticed something. He always signed his letter with a heart. Do you remember ever seeing it?”
“Me? No. He didn’t sign his letters to me with hearts. Or even write me letters. Now that I think about it, I’m kind of upset by that. I feel a little unloved.”
“Ha. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring up a sore subject.” She patted him on the knee. “Anyway...it was a unique heart. He did it in one stroke and looped the bottom where it came to a point.”
“Okay, so you want to get this heart as a tattoo?”
“Yes. I want it to be something small that won’t hurt me too much.”
“Oh, don’t be a baby about it.”
She swatted at him, the palm of her hand hitting him in the middle of his chest. “I’m not. Plus, I want something that is personal to me and isn’t so obvious to other people, like having his name engraved on my body.”
Micah didn’t move her hand. He looked down first at her hand, which rested over his racing heart, then up to find her eyes on him. How had he let her get so close?
Desire swept through his veins, forcing every cell in his body to zone in on the small, delicate hand that held him spellbound. She began to move it. He inhaled sharply and held his breath. Her hand made a torturous and slow glide from his chest and over his abdominal muscles as they contracted underneath her hot touch.
Slowly, she broke the moment as she pulled her hand back, formed a fist and rested it across her waist. He could hear her inhale as she took a deep breath. “So...when are we going to do this? Obviously, I’m free since I quit my job.”
“Oh, that’s right. How about later this week?”
“It’s a date.”
* * *
Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.
Micah was so mad at herself. For years she had lived in blissful ignorance. Denial was a wonderful thing. Or it had been.
Now it was just bothersome and made her angry.
She had this plan in place, a set of rules to follow to finally put Drew’s memory to rest. He was no longer allowed to dominate her mind. Which was all well and good, but somewhere along the way Drew went out and Josh came in.
And if she wasn’t thinking about Josh, then she was thinking about Drew.
It was infuriating.
And Josh! Seriously?
They had been friends for twelve years now, and sure, there had always been an underlying attraction, but never something as crippling and all encompassing as it was of late.
Why did this have to come about now? Years ago would have been different. But now? It was an impossibility now. You couldn’t go from being best friends for over a decade to this. It just didn’t happen.
And the fact that she was even wasting time thinking about it now angered her the most. She would never, ever be capable of being the kind of woman he was attracted to.
Frustrating. Simply frustrating. But did that stop her? Nope.
At night she was tortured by thoughts of Drew, and during the day it was thoughts of Josh that threatened her sanity. She couldn’t take any more.
For a girl who hadn’t been on a serious date in years, she sure did have a lot of guy problems.
* * *
The night air was brisk; the sky was dark and gray. The unmistakable scent of fall surrounded her. Drew pulled her in close to his side as he whispered in her ear and charmed her with his sweet words. She turned to him, lifting her face to meet his lips in a kiss. Suddenly, he was gone and she was back in her room.
“Micah...”
She turned at the haunting sound of her mother’s shaky voice. It caused her to sit up with a start in her bed, knowing immediately something was wrong. Her father was there, too, clad in a robe and slippers. They both sat down next to her on the bed, pulling her into their embrace. Her father’s arms held her in a viselike grip, his breaths coming in quick succession. A feeling of trepidation coursed through her. Rapid thoughts of what could have happened raced through her mind.
“What? What happened? Is it Grandma?” Her mother shook her head, telling her without words that it was not her grandmother. Tears fell from her mother’s face.
“Grandpa?”
“No, honey.” Her mother could barely get the words out.
Her father was holding her so tight she could barely breathe, rocking her back and forth as her mother quietly sobbed next to her. Neither spoke for what seemed like forever. The silence was deafening.
“Baby, I’m so sorry. Drew...”
No!
“...Drew’s gone to be with Jesus.”
Micah’s world collapsed. Her father held her tight as the gut-wrenching sobs took over. She felt robbed of air, robbed of thought. Robbed. It couldn’t be real. This couldn’t be happening. He was just with her. He had just kissed her good-night a couple hours ago.
It was all a lie! This was not happening! It couldn’t be true. It was his birthday! People weren’t supposed to die on their birthdays. Eighteen-year-olds weren’t supposed to die, period.
No. No. No. No. No. This couldn’t be real.
Micah jolted awake, sweat forming on her brow. She reached for her teddy bear, drawing comfort from it as the tears began to fall. Crying was her only way to release all of the emotions she still felt so vividly. No one would ever understand it. Even she didn’t understand how after years without Drew, the pain could just return with such vengeance.
Her mother had told her that grief was a unique emotion, that everyone’s experience was different. Some lasted longer than others. It was obvious the plan wasn’t working. Josh had been right. She had no way to control the dreams, and as long as the dreams kept coming the pain would never fully go away.
“Oh, Drew. Why do you keep doing this to me?”
She couldn’t handle it anymore. She desperately wanted to move on. It was only bringing up more pain and it hurt too much. She was drowning here, drowning in painful memories.
SEVEN
Josh couldn’t stop thinking about the conversation he’d had with Jamie. Was he just coming up with excuses? He had always been aware that deep down he had feelings for her. But what was he supposed to do about that?
Nothing. That’s what. He couldn’t act on them. It wouldn’t be right. He couldn’t take advantage of their years of friendship—no matter what he felt.
He needed a distraction, something that would take his mind off of Micah for longer than an afternoon. He needed to get a date. And soon.
He walked toward the exit of the fire station, his shift over.
“Excuse me.”
“Yeah?” Josh looked up to find a cute blond-haired woman standing next to the fire truck holding a cake. Distraction found. Wow, that was quick! “How ca
n I help you?”
“The fire you guys put out yesterday was at my parents’ house. I just wanted to thank you. Because of you guys, my parents are alive. I can’t tell you how grateful I am.” She came closer to him, batting her eyelashes. “Here. I baked a cake for the station.”
“That wasn’t necessary, but we’ll take it, anyway. I, for one, have quite a sweet tooth.” He looked down at the cake as she handed it to him. Chocolate, frosted with the worst attempt at “thank you” written across the top. The u looked strange, different from the rest of the word. He inspected it closer, trying not to appear rude, but it had him curious. She started to giggle. He looked up to find her blushing bright pink.
“I have to make a confession. I ran out of white frosting so I used toothpaste at the end.”
“Oh.” What the heck? Toothpaste? It both grossed him out and made him laugh. “And just what made you think toothpaste would be a good idea?”
“Well, I figured that way your sweet tooth would be both satisfied and cleaned. Win-win.” A big white smile crossed her face. This girl was going to be fun.
“My name’s Josh Taylor. I don’t think I caught yours.”
“That’s funny. My name’s Taylor, too.” She flashed him a flirty grin that clearly showed she was interested. So was he. He would just have to talk to her about her multipurpose use of toothpaste.
“Well, come on in, Taylor. I’m sure the guys would love to meet you. And let’s not tell them about the toothpaste. That will be our little secret.”
He led the way into the firehouse to the common area. The guys were lounging on couches watching ESPN when they walked in the room. “Hey, guys. This is Taylor. She brought us a cake.”
That caught everyone’s attention. He couldn’t be sure if it was Taylor, the cake or the combination that brought them all to attention with a chorus of “Hi, Taylor.”
“We responded to the fire at her parents’ house yesterday.”
“Which one?”
“The one on Ninth.”
“Oh. How are they doing?”
“Good. They lost a lot of things, but it can all be replaced. We’re just happy they are both safe.”
“Do you have time for a piece of cake?” one of the guys asked her.
“No. I’ve got to get going. Thank you, though.”
“Thank you.”
“I just came to drop off the cake and tell you how much my parents and I appreciate all you did.”
“That was really sweet of you.” Craig, one of the youngest at the station, began to approach her and Josh knew he had to step in.
“Here, I was on my way out, too. I’ll walk you out.”
“Thank you. That would be nice.”
Josh guided her out of the room with a lightly placed hand on her back, staking his claim to the other guys. He glanced over his shoulder to see Craig stick his finger in the frosting, and the subsequent facial expression once he tasted the toothpaste mixed with fudge. Yummy.
“You didn’t get a piece of cake.”
He was hoping she had not noticed that.
“I’ll text them to save me a piece. I’ll be back later.” A lie. He didn’t want a piece of that cake. Not after knowing what she had used.
“Oh, good.” When they made it to the front entrance, she stopped and turned to him. Her eyes dropped to the floor for a moment before turning them up to look at him. “I’m not usually this forward...but would you like to get coffee or something sometime?”
“Yeah. I’m up for that.” They exchanged numbers quickly before she went her way and he went his. Man, he hoped this distraction worked. This was how he had handled it for the last decade. So why did he get the strong feeling it wouldn’t work this time?
* * *
Taylor sat across from him in the cozy restaurant; a question resonated in her big blue eyes. Was she asking him a question? Shoot. What did she just say? She sat there, waiting for a response from him.
She tried again. “What are some things you like to do?”
She was so sweet and innocent. She had no idea he wasn’t listening to her. He felt guilty. He should feel guilty. This was not how he typically acted on dates. It did not seem fair to her.
“I am usually up for anything on my off days. I hang out with my friends, play baseball in the summer...”
“That sounds like fun.”
“Yeah. My friends are pretty great.” Micah came to mind again. Dang, that girl could not leave him alone. “What about you?”
She was talking, and he did his best to pay attention. She deserved that much, although he wasn’t starting out too well. He had already missed a good portion of her story.
“...when my brother died, it was one of the only things that made me feel safe again.”
“I’m sorry about that... Your brother, that is.” What was it that made her feel safe?
He really should be paying attention. But as he watched her lips move, his mind was invaded by thoughts of Micah’s lips and how her bottom lip was slightly fuller than the top. And once that happened, his mind had to take a detour to remember every heated detail of their kiss. How her soft lips had responded to his. How her supple curves felt in his hands. How her body felt warm and willing beneath his.
Warm and willing? He was letting his imagination run wild, apparently. He drained his glass of ice water and motioned for the waiter to bring more.
“There’s just something about Neil Diamond’s music that reminds me of those days when my brother was still alive and my family was whole. I feel at home again, safe and secure.”
Hold the phone. She was talking about Neil Diamond?
“Do you know what I mean?” She looked at him over the rim of her glass of water. She took his silence to mean he needed further urging. “Do you have something or somewhere that makes you feel like you are safe with them?”
“Yeah. I do.” Micah.
He was a jerk, a certified jerk for taking this girl out when his heart belonged to another. His heart had no business belonging to Micah, but that did not make it any less true. He needed to work harder to change that.
“Tell me more about your brother. What was he like? Older, younger...?”
“He was older, by five years. He was in the military. That’s how he died, in the war. Before that he liked to do all kinds of things...”
She talked and he tried, but he just couldn’t pay attention. Maybe she talked too much. Maybe it was the way she talked. Maybe he was developing adult-onset ADD. It was possible. He was sure of it. But no matter how hard he tried, he could not pay attention to what she was telling him. Instead he was noticing all the people in the restaurant: a group of friends laughing in the corner, a couple having a romantic dinner, another couple who appeared to be arguing and an older gentleman who sat by himself. All of them appeared more interesting than his distraction. Not much of a distraction at all. So much for that idea.
If he wasn’t careful, he would end up just like the man sitting alone in a busy restaurant.
* * *
Josh needed a cup of coffee. His date with Taylor had been last night, and although the night had ended early for them, he had found himself walking around for hours afterward. There was a lot on his mind and it was all cluttering up his head.
He was on his way to work, a big shift ahead of him, so that cup of coffee was vital right now. He swung open the door to the coffeehouse he frequented near the fire station and stepped up to the counter. The girl behind the counter flushed bright pink as she took his order. The uniform had a tendency to do that, even when it was just the navy T-shirt with the fireman logo.
“It’s on the house.” He didn’t think her face could get pinker, but it did.
Man, did he love the perks of his job. “Thanks.”
Just as h
e turned to leave, a familiar flash of red caught his eye. Micah. She sat in the corner, near the window, completely immersed in a book. She did that when she read. She would get lost in the pages and be completely unaware of the world around her.
This was the Micah he was used to.
Her thick black frames sat perched on her nose as if they were sliding down and she had not realized it yet. Her hair was piled high in a messy knot on top of her head, a common look for her. She had let the girls talk her into bangs that cut straight above her eyes. He could tell they were bothering her and interfering with her concentration by the way she would blow them out of her eyes. The rebellious red fringe would float up for a moment, then settle back down onto her forehead.
He approached her slowly, not wanting to disturb her yet. He enjoyed watching this side of her. As he got closer, he could see she was biting her lip. Her soft, full bottom lip enticingly trapped between her teeth. Torture. Pure torture.
As she turned the page, she switched to biting her thumbnail. The book must be a real nail-biter. He smirked at his own pun.
“So, is this another one of those books about the color gray?”
Her head snapped up. Big brown eyes stared back up at him from behind smudged lenses. “Hey. I didn’t expect to see you here.”
There was no smile, merely an acknowledgment of his presence. She usually greeted him with a big smile, one that made him melt.
“I work right around the corner.” He indicated with his coffee cup.
“Ah. I guess I forgot about that. I’m here all the time, though, and I never see you.”
“Maybe you’re never looking. Too busy engrossed in your shady book.”
“I am not reading that kind of book!”
“Just messing with you. What are you reading? Judging by your nails—” he lifted her hand to get a closer look “—it’s pretty intense.”
“A mystery.”
“Makes sense.”
She snatched his cup of coffee and took a sip. He would never allow anyone else to do something like that, but it was just one of her annoying traits—she was always curious what others were eating or drinking.