Playing Dirty

by Jamie Ann Denton

  Mattie looked at her husband and couldn’t help feel a twinge of sadness for him regardless of the hurt going on inside her at the moment. Through no fault of his own, the poor guy didn’t have a clue as to what made his daughter tick. “All of the above,” she said. “Phoebe is nothing, if not enthusiastic.”

  He righted the jewelry box and carried it to the dresser. “Your dad called you?”

  “Of course, he did.” She walked into the bathroom for the roll of paper towels she kept under the sink so she could at least attempt to mop up the paste. “I’m his baby girl, remember?”

  “I can’t believe he’d rat me out like that.” He came back to the bed and took the paper towels from her. “Let me,” he said, handing her a broken necklace. “So much for male solidarity.”

  “He’s my dad,” she said with a light chuckle. She gathered the broken pieces of jewelry and set them on the mirrored tray on her dresser. “Did you really think he wouldn’t alert me that my house was being taken down by a five-year-old terror and her clueless father?”

  He scraped a glob of paste from the comforter. “Apparently not.”

  She sifted through the jewelry, separating the broken pieces from the ones still intact. Most she’d picked up the past couple of years at various shops or discount outlets, and were replaceable.

  With a handful of matching earrings in her hand, she turned away from the bed, but Ford reached for her and snagged her wrist. His touch was warm, firm. Familiar. She felt guilty for noticing.

  “Are you all right?” he asked quietly.

  “I will be.” She didn’t offer a brave smile to make him feel better. What did he expect? She’d just ended a relationship. Her heart hurt. “I need time.”

  His fingers tightened around her wrist. “I’m not a complete bastard,” he said. “I’m not going anywhere.” The blue of his eyes simmered as he looked at her. Desire? Yes, but something more, something deeper that had her wanting to pull away from him.

  “But you’re my wife,” he said. “The sooner you remember that, the better.”

  She tried not to think of his statement as an edict, but it was hard not to when the hint of smugness in his eyes edged the other emotions aside and took center stage. In his mind, he’d won. In her hypersensitive state, the words sounded too much like an order.

  His ill-timed arrogance annoyed the crap out of her. “If you think you can just move back into my bed because I ended things with Trenton, then you’d better think again. Because there’s no—”

  “Hush,” he murmured, effectively derailing her tirade when he leaned in and brushed his lips over hers in a quick, feathery kiss she hadn’t seen coming. “I’ve waited five years, Matt. What’s a few more days?”

  “Days?” He’d lost his mind. Days? It had taken her three years to move on with her life after he’d died. Did he really think she’d only need a few days to get over Trenton?

  “Where is everyone?” her father called from the hallway.

  In the distance she heard Lily’s voice, followed by Phoebe’s excited one. “In here, Dad,” she answered and gave Ford what she hoped was a look filled with determination. She could continue to argue with him, or be grateful for the interruption and table the conversation for later.

  She’d been through the emotional ringer the past few days. She needed time to recover, to regroup and come to terms with the new status quo. Or was it a return to the previous status quo?

  She didn’t know for certain. But one thing she did know...there was only so much emotional upheaval she could handle, and today she’d hit her limit.

  Eleven

  MATTIE CARRIED THE newly opened bottle of pinot grigio into the dining room, their second of the evening. “Dig in, girls,” she said as she added a massive serving platter loaded with munchies to the center of the table. She’d made stuffed shells and a cucumber salad for dinner, and had whipped up white chocolate, cream-filled cannoli for dessert, but that had been over four hours ago. They needed fresh sustenance to continue the job at hand.

  Griffen added crab puffs, a shrimp-filled spring roll and a few pita chips to her plate, along with a spoonful of artichoke-spinach dip. “These crab thingies alone are worth the free labor you’re extracting from us.”

  Mattie handed a chilled bottle of water to her sister. Her dad and Lily had taken Phoebe with them for the weekend to Lily’s vacation home in Galveston, and Ford was at the base pulling weekend duty. She’d decided to call in the troops and host a Friday night, Return the Wedding Gifts slumber party. Well, not a party, per se, but she had enlisted the aid of her sister, whose husband was in New York for his new job at the network now that football’s preseason had begun, and her two closest friends, Hanna Richards and Layla Estes.

  “Sorry, Griff,” she said, as she poured wine into the three empty glasses. She handed one to Hanna, the elementary school principal. “But this is a job for wine.”

  Griffen smiled her thanks. “That’s okay. I really don’t mind.” She took a deep drink from the water bottle and frowned. “Much.”

  “Every job is a job for wine,” Hannah said. “Have you seen what I do for a living? It’s a miracle I’m not a raging alcoholic.”

  “Agreed.” Layla lifted her glass in a toast. Having known each other since kindergarten, Layla was Mattie’s oldest friend. She was also the life skills teacher and shared an office with Mattie at the high school. “To overworked elementary school principals everywhere.”

  Hanna tapped her glass against Layla’s. “Amen, sister.”

  “I wonder, when our mothers burned their bras, do you think they had a clue what they were doing to the next generation?” Layla asked. “The pressure to ‘have it all’ is a bitch.”

  “Good point,” Mattie said. “Why do we try so hard? I mean, really, who are we trying to impress?”

  Layla shrugged. “Each other, I suppose.” A single mother, divorced after a disastrous seven-year marriage that had taken her away from her friends and family, Layla had essentially reinvented herself since returning to Hart three years ago. She’d dropped fifty pounds, finished college and walked right into another doomed marriage, which had predictably ended shortly after the I Do’s. Layla had a lot going for her, except her taste in men. “We really need to stop killing ourselves.”

  Griffen loaded another small stack of shipping labels into the printer Mattie had moved into the dining room. “The constant need for perfection gets old.”

  Hanna reached for another wrapped gift. “It’s why I drink,” she said.

  “No,” Mattie corrected. “It’s why we all drink.”

  Griffen hit the print command on the laptop. “Have you met Ford yet?” she asked Hanna.

  “For like five seconds.” Hannah carefully peeled away the wrapping paper on a box to reveal a silver picture frame. “He was on his way out when I stopped by last week. Seems like a nice guy.”

  “Did you notice you could drop a quarter off his ass?” Layla asked.

  “I was too busy checking out his biceps.” Hanna pretended to swoon. “And those blue eyes,” she said and fanned herself.

  “You do realize this is my husband y’all are talking about, right?”

  They ignored her.

  “No wonder we haven’t seen her much the past two weeks.” Hanna dragged over another package and started to tear away the traditional silver and white wrapping. “I wouldn’t want to come up for air, either, if I had a man like that to keep me warm under the covers.”

  “I’m hardly surprised,” Layla said. “She always has been the stingy sort. Shame on you, Mattie Elizabeth. Keeping all that hot, American-hero, man-flesh to yourself.”

  “That’s not true,” Mattie defended herself. “We’re just trying to find normal.” Whatever that was, because she hadn’t a clue. Still, it sounded like as good an excuse as any for her lack of socializing the past two weeks.

  Griffen smiled. “He really is a nice guy,” she said to Hannah. “He’s my favorite brother-in-law.”


  Layla laughed. “He’s your only brother-in-law.”

  Mattie laughed, too, but thoughts of Trenton had her laughter fading. Considering they were busy returning gifts from the wedding that had taken place only a month ago, it was impossible not to think of him. Once again, she found herself wondering how he was holding up, if he was still angry with her, if he was missing her.

  She had moments. Moments when she’d seriously considered calling him or sending a text message to see how he was doing, but in the end, she couldn’t bring herself to do it. She’d made her decision. To keep the lines of communication open would be the same as cheating. Besides, she’d be doing none of them any favors if she kept digging at that particular wound. They all needed time to heal, and they couldn’t very well do that if she kept picking at the scab.

  She shook off the melancholy by concentrating on sealing the box in front of her and applying the shipping label Griffen handed her. They’d been working steadily for the past four hours, and were making good headway despite all the wine they’d consumed. If they maintained their current pace, they just might have the dining room cleared before the Tonight Show ended.

  Hanna opened another box, this one containing a tacky, bright and multi-colored chip and dip set shaped like a sombrero. “I can’t believe the Navy made Ford report for duty so soon.” She reached into the box for the card and handed it to Griffen, who typed the address into the laptop, then printed the shipping label. “He’s only just come home. Surely he’s due some serious time off after what y’all have been through.”

  “We talked about it and decided that it might be better if he reported sooner rather than later,” Mattie explained. Initially she’d objected, but in the end, she had to admit Ford had been right. “The normalcy has been good for Phoebe.”

  Hanna leaned back in her chair. “Has she asked about Trenton?”

  “At first she did.” Explaining to her daughter that Trenton would no longer be a part of their lives hadn’t been easy. Her dad’s fiancée had recommended a children’s therapist, which she and Ford had consulted. “Not too much lately, though.”

  “What did you tell her?” Hanna asked.

  Although Hanna was Phoebe’s principal, Mattie understood her friend’s interest wasn’t a professional concern, but a personal one. “The therapist who Lily recommended suggested we tell Phoebe the truth in very simplistic terms, which we did. I think having Ford here has helped. Granted, Trenton isn’t around, but I don’t think she’s feeling the loss had we split up and suddenly it was just her and I again.”

  “They say kids are resilient,” Layla said, “but it’s all crap. Kids are affected by breakups, I don’t care what the supposed experts say.”

  “I really believe age has a lot to do with it,” Griffen said. “Austin gave me some grief when Ross left us. But he really didn’t act out until Jed came around, and Austin was the one who’d convinced me to tell Jed about him.”

  “Now that Turd Number Two is history,” Layla said, “Ariana has acted out a few times.”

  “What about Brianna?” Hanna asked about Layla’s youngest daughter.

  Layla shook her head. “Nothing. That girl is oblivious to everything except whatever book she has her nose in at the moment.”

  “There are worse things she could be into,” Hanna said. “Have you seen some of our sixth graders? Criminals, every last one of them.”

  Griffen laughed. “They can’t be that bad.”

  “Last semester,” Hanna said, “I had a six grader in my office with a tramp stamp. Can you believe that? What kind of parent allows their twelve-year-old daughter to have a tattoo?”

  “One who picks her battles,” Layla said, tugging down a section of her tank top to reveal a series of small rose petals tattooed on her breast. “And just because someone has a tattoo does not mean they’re a criminal.”

  “Oh, speaking of criminals…” Griffen took another gift card from Hanna. “You never did tell me what happened at the JAG’s office?”

  “JAG?” Layla slipped a lock of wavy brown hair behind her ear.

  “Judge Advocate General,” Mattie explained. “It’s the legal arm of the Navy.”

  “Legal? Are you in trouble?” Hannah asked, concern filling her eyes.

  “Don’t worry,” Mattie told them with a laugh. “I’m not going to jail for bigamy.”

  “Good to know,” Hannah said. “That would be a really uncomfortable conversation to have with the school board.”

  “Very funny,” Griffen said, her expression serious. Not that Mattie expected otherwise from her very pragmatic sister. “The government paid you a crap ton of money in death benefits. They’re going to want it back.”

  “No, we’re good,” she assured her sister. “Someone high up pulled the right strings, because we were able to negotiate a settlement.” So long as Ford agreed to accept a single, lump sum payout under the guise of combat pay and waived the five years worth of back pay, then the government agreed to forgive the survivor spouse benefits and the social security death benefits they’d been paying to her every month. “In the end, it all pretty much equals what he would’ve been paid had he not gone missing.”

  “Wow.” Hanna tore into another package. “Talk about lucky.”

  “Like I said, someone pulled the right strings.” She suspected Paul Ravelli was somehow behind the money situation, but no one was talking. Regardless of who was responsible, she was grateful. She didn’t want to think about the thousands of dollars she might’ve had to repay.

  “Soooo,” Layla drew out the word. “How are things going now that he’s back on active duty?”

  “You know he’s no longer a member of a SEAL team, right?”

  “Honestly,” Griffen said, “I’m surprised.”

  “So am I,” Mattie admitted. She signed the notecard, tucked it in the box and sealed it before slapping on the shipping label. “Ford loved it. But, he’s been promoted to Lieutenant Commander and is the number three guy in the Navel Intelligence Unit at Carswell. Which really means he’s home more nights than not.”

  Hanna opened a smaller box, peered inside and pulled out another frame in beautifully etched crystal. “People really have no imagination.” She set the frame on the table. “Do you think the government was being generous because of the circumstances?”

  “Absolutely,” Mattie said. Because of the nature of his work, he still couldn’t talk about the specifics of his job, but she could live with the silence so long as he wasn’t physically chasing danger. “His promotion and clearances helped land the assignment. But since he’s no longer part of a SEAL team, his hours are practically normal.”

  Griffen helped herself to another spoonful of dip. “That has to be a nice change.” She added another handful of pita chips to her plate.

  “I don’t think we’ve had that since we were newlyweds in college.”

  “I’ll bet.” Layla nudged Hanna with her elbow. “Newlyweds.”

  “Ah, yes,” Hanna said. “What’s that like? Two honeymoons in a row?”

  Mattie rolled her eyes. “Let’s not go there.”

  “Oh, we’re definitely going there.” Griffen’s smile turned devious. “Payback, little sister.”

  “Payback? For what?”

  “The crap you gave me about sleeping with Jed.”

  “Not true. I gave you crap about not sleeping with him.”

  Griffen blushed and cleared her throat. “Well, this isn’t about me,” she said. “So...Was it everything you remembered?”

  Mattie pressed her lips together. She looked to Hanna, but her friend was of no help and kept looking at her expectantly. She knew better than to enlist aid from Layla who’d practically reinvented the if-it-feels-good-do-it philosophy the past few months.

  “Well...?” her sister prompted.

  “You guys are so annoying,” Mattie complained. “I don’t know why I even called you to come over.”

  “Because you love us,” Hanna said,
ripping the paper off another package.

  “Can’t live without us,” Layla added as she admired the high-end cappuccino machine Hanna had unwrapped. “You might want to reconsider your decision, Matt. This cappuccino maker alone might be worth hanging onto Trenton.”

  “Nooo, that’s so wrong,” Mattie said, unable to keep the laughter out of her voice.

  Hanna swatted Layla playfully. “You’re headed for a time out, young lady.”

  “Well...” Griffen prompted, again, in her usual, unrelenting way.

  Mattie attempted to concentrate on the thank you card, but could feel them all staring at her. Finally, she let out a harsh breath. “Fine.” She tossed the pen on the table. “If you must know, we haven’t...gone there yet.”

  Hanna’s mouth fell open.

  Layla looked at her as if there was something seriously wrong with her. “Are you freaking kidding me?”

  Griffen frowned. “You’re joking, right?”

  “Nope,” Mattie answered, before she drained her wine glass.

  “Well, why the hell not?” Layla demanded. “Is it broken?”

  Mattie reached for the wine bottle and poured herself a refill, then topped off the other two glasses. “I needed time,” Mattie said without looking at them as she set the empty bottle back on the table.

  “Time for what?” Hanna asked. “Revirgination?”

  Griff laughed. “Is that even a word?”

  “If not, it needs to be,” Layla declared. “Seriously, Matt. Why on earth not?”

  She let out another impatient sigh and looked at her friend. “It’s too soon,” she explained. “Four weeks ago I was married to Trenton. Ford’s only been home two weeks. It took me over three years before I was ready to move on after losing Ford. What was I supposed to do? Break up with Trenton and welcome Ford back into my bed that night?”

  “I’ve heard worse ideas.” Layla reached across the table for a crab puff. “Think how he feels. It’s been five years since the guy’s gotten any.”