by Laura Drewry
“Jack?”
“I, uh, I wouldn’t say I was the reason, no, I just pointed out a few things he needed to consider before he took it that far.”
“Like what?” She stared down at her fingers for a second, and while her grip loosened, she didn’t let go, and he didn’t dare move in case the contact broke.
“Like how he deserved it.” He hesitated a second, then sighed. “Like how having a police cruiser in his driveway would get people to talking, and that in a town this size, it wouldn’t take much for anyone to find out their high school science teacher was boffing the assistant librarian in his classroom. That’s probably not something he wants stapled to his résumé.”
Her blue eyes widened for a second, then softened. “Thank you. I’ve always wondered why he didn’t press charges.”
It took him a second to catch his breath when she pulled her hand back and started walking again. He knew it would only be a second before she figured out the rest, and he was right. She made it three steps before stopping again.
“Without a police report, though, he couldn’t have put in an insurance claim.” Her chin dropped to her chest for a second before she shook her head and sighed. “You paid for all of it, didn’t you?”
“No.”
“Then you paid for most of it.”
“I don’t know.” It wasn’t a lie, but it felt like one, so he shrugged slowly and added, “It’s not like we kept receipts.”
A long moan ripped from her throat. “Jack.”
“What?” He laughed. “We couldn’t just let the water keep dripping through the ceiling, could we?”
She moaned again, but Jack just nudged her with his elbow until she started walking again.
“Truth is,” he said. “Of all the times I’ve seen Will mad—including the time the wardrobe got stuck in the stairwell—I’ve never seen him that mad. Funniest damn thing ever.”
She didn’t need to know that Jack had laughed himself silly when he first walked into the post-Maya disaster or that at one point he’d had to physically restrain Will from calling the cops. To this day he still didn’t know why Will had called him first instead of the cops, but for Maya’s sake, it was damn lucky he did.
Chapter 5
“I mean, isn’t that just kick-you-in-the-crotch, spit-on-your-neck fantastic?”
Rachel Green, Friends, “The One with Ross’s New Girlfriend”
A deal was a deal, so on Friday night at six o’clock, Maya walked through the door of The Grill and let the hostess show her to a table.
Overlooking the pond at the ninth hole of the golf course, the L-shaped restaurant had two entrances, one that led to the parking lot and one that led out to the hotel lobby. Maya kept an eye on both in case Tim came in and didn’t see her.
Twenty minutes later, having finished half her glass of wine, she pulled out her phone to check that she had the date right. Ten minutes after that she pulled it out again and spent a chunk of time scrolling through every update the auction houses had posted about their stock of sunflowers and mums, and five minutes after that, she paid for her glass of wine, and left.
Truth be told, it was the best date Jayne had ever set her up on, and Maya kept her receipt as proof that she’d held up her end of the bargain.
“Snip!” Jack came strolling through the parking lot just as she opened her car door. “What are you doing here?”
“Big date tonight, remember?”
Pete ran over and pushed his shoulder into Maya’s knees hard enough to send her staggering back against her car.
Laughing, Maya took Pete’s head between her hands and kissed his nose. “There’s my best guy. How’s my sweetie?”
Stopping near the front bumper, Jack glanced down at his watch. “What time’s dinner?”
Maya stopped scratching Pete long enough to look up at Jack and grin. “He stood me up.”
“He what?” Jack’s eyes widened. “No shit?”
“No shit.”
“Wow. That’s, uh…” Jack’s eyes darkened for a second. “What a prick.”
“Nah, it’s fine, really,” she said. “Just goes to show I wasn’t the only one Jayne was pressuring, I guess.”
“D’you want to come up?” With the leash dangling from his hand, he gestured toward the hotel. “I was going to order room service but we could eat in the restaurant if you want. I know you had your heart set on that stuffed baked potato.”
She didn’t mean to hesitate, didn’t even know why she did, but it was enough to make Jack start backpedaling.
“It’s no big deal, I—”
“No,” she said. “That’d be great. You sure you don’t have other plans, though? Maybe some hot chick you picked up since I last saw you?”
“We’ve picked up a few of those, haven’t we, boy?” Jack scoffed as he clipped the leash on Pete and started toward the lobby. “They’re probably lined up outside our room right now, so you might need to elbow your way by.”
When they stepped off the elevator onto his floor, Jack took a second to look up and down the empty hall.
“Look at that,” he muttered. “Maybe they’re all off having dinner with your bike dude somewhere.”
“Very funny.”
The other elevator chimed just as Jack pushed open his door and waved her and Pete through.
“Jack!”
Maya froze just inside the room, hoping she’d imagined that voice and knowing full well she hadn’t.
With his hand still on the door handle, Jack blinked at Maya for a second, exhaled loudly, and stepped back out into the hall, letting the door slide almost closed behind him.
“Hey, what’s up?”
“Stella’s got her book club over tonight, so I thought I’d watch the game here instead.”
Maya didn’t know what she should do—stand there quietly or pull the door open and say hello to Dickhead? Come to think of it, of all the things she wanted to say to Dickhead, “hello” wasn’t even in the top ten, so it was probably best to keep quiet and move away from the door.
As far as hotel rooms went, this one was pretty basic—clean enough, but nothing fancy and certainly not equipped for long-term residents.
The queen bed took up most of the room, with maybe two or three feet of walking space separating it from the tall TV cabinet that also served as the dresser. A mini fridge, microwave, and coffeemaker sat stacked on the door side of the TV, and on the window side sat the typical hotel desk—narrow and pretty much useless if you were trying to do anything other than read the room service menu.
Decorated in typical hotel fashion, the room had a huge gold-framed mirror hanging above the headboard—again, useless unless the person only needed to see their head—and on the wall dividing the living space from the bathroom hung an unremarkable landscape print; probably the same one hung in every room.
Other than that, the only other furniture was a small round table with a wooden-backed chair that matched the one at the desk. Stacked neatly on the table were Jack’s MacBook, a thick pad of lined paper with a giant black ink splotch on it, and the fountain pen she and Will had given him when his first game sold.
Going by the size of that ink splotch, he still hadn’t figured out a way to unblock himself. That couldn’t be good, but in a room like this, how was he ever supposed to be inspired? Sure, he was set up at the window, with lots of light, but his view consisted of the parking lot below and the swampy marsh to the north. Not exactly stimulating.
From where she stood near the window, she could still hear the voices out in the hall, but she couldn’t make out what they were saying, which was probably just as well. She should have just gone home. Maybe that’s why she hesitated outside; it was her gut telling her to leave. Instead, she was trapped inside the room with no means of escape and Dickhead standing on the other side of the door.
Instead of sitting in either of the chairs, she lowered herself to the floor next to Pete and leaned back against the wall under the window. Pete s
tood up, turned in a tight circle, then plopped down next to her again, sighed, and rested his chin on her thigh.
“I know,” she murmured. “No one needs this much drama, right?”
From out in the hall, Will’s voice got louder, closer. “Jeezus, Jack, what’s the problem? Let’s just watch the game.”
The door whooshed open, but before Will could step in, Jack’s arm shot up, blocking his way. Will’s gaze immediately locked on Maya, who stared straight back at him, not blinking, and continuing to rub Pete’s head. With his dark wavy hair and blue eyes, Will was still as good-looking as ever, yet it was almost impossible to believe she’d loved him as much as she once had.
“What the—?” As the door started to swing shut again, Will let out some kind of snorted choke, shoved Jack’s arm out of the way and caught the door before it got halfway closed.
“Will,” Jack said, his voice low and tight. “Don’t.”
“Don’t what?” Stepping fully into the room now, Will took his eyes off Maya only long enough to scan the room.
Pete’s tail swished a couple times, but he stayed right where he was, and if Maya hadn’t already loved that dog, that would have sealed it for her right then and there. She hadn’t been in the same room with Will since the day they finalized their divorce, and the only thing she liked better about this time was he didn’t have his skank with him.
“Well, isn’t this cozy.” Nodding slowly, Will turned to Jack, who’d come in behind him. “My best friend and my wife cuddling up in a hotel room.”
“Ex-wife.” Jack had already moved around Will so he stood between them. “And don’t be a dick.”
“Ha!” Will barked. “I’m not the one being a dick here, bro.”
She probably shouldn’t have snorted right then, but surely to God he was kidding, wasn’t he?
“We weren’t doing anything.” Jack lifted his hands slightly, palms out. “I ran into Snip out in the parking lot; we were going to go grab a bite.”
Maya could have kissed him for not mentioning the fact that she was there because she’d been stood up.
Will stuffed his hands deep in his pockets and just kept looking between them with those accusing blue eyes, which was rich considering that of the three of them, he was the only one who’d done anything wrong.
Maya refused to cower, refused to let him think for one single second she had any reason to feel guilty, because she didn’t. Neither did Jack, but he obviously wasn’t comfortable, so with a low sigh, Maya eased Pete’s chin off her leg and pushed herself up.
“It’s none of his business what I’m doing here, Jack.” She never took her eyes off Will as she spoke. “He’s the last person on earth who gets to judge me about anything.”
That wiped a shade of smugness off Will’s stupid face.
“Unlike him,” she went on, “I’m not going to make you feel like you need to explain anything or choose which one of us stays and which one goes. That’s his game, not mine.”
“Maya.” When Jack reached out to stop her, she shrugged him off, but as she did she dragged her glare away from Will and gave Jack a smile.
“Don’t worry about it,” she said, squeezing his hand as she walked by. “I’ll see you later.”
She’d just stepped around them when she heard Jack curse quietly behind her.
“Hang on, Snip.”
She pulled open the door but hesitated when he stepped up behind her, his huge frame completely blocking Will from her view.
His jaw tightened a little as he wrapped his hand around the edge of the door and looked down at her. “I’m sorry.”
“You’ve got nothing to be sorry for,” she said. “Don’t worry about it.”
His eyes softened a little, until it looked as though the green and brown had melted together. “Are we still on for Sunday?”
“Of course.” She didn’t know why it took her so long to blink, to stop staring at him that way, as if she’d never seen his eyes do that before, because of course she had. The only difference was that this time something inside her melted, too. “I’ll pick you up around four-ish.”
“Sounds good.”
“Great.” A second ago she couldn’t blink at all and now she couldn’t stop. “See you then.”
As she turned to go, Jack’s hand curled around her elbow, gently tugging her back so he could lean down and press a soft kiss against her cheek.
“G’night, Snip.”
—
The door had barely closed behind Maya when Will started.
“What the fuck was that?”
Jack strode right by him and lifted the phone from its base. “Yeah, hi, can I get the salmon burger with yam fries and a green salad…sorry, hang on a sec. D’you want something?”
Will just shook his head.
“That’s it. Room 312. Thanks.” He hung up and walked straight to the tiny fridge under the microwave. “Beer?”
“Yeah.”
After shoving a can into Will’s hand, Jack grabbed the remote and flopped down on top of the bed with his legs stretched out and the pillows propped up behind him.
Will slumped down on the chair by the table and used the bed to rest his feet on. “Since when did you start kissing my fuckin’ wife, Jack?”
“Ex-wife,” Jack corrected, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. “And I’ve been kissing her goodbye since I met her. I kiss your mom and sister goodbye all the time, too, and as far as I know that’s never been a problem.”
It was night-and-day different, actually, but Will didn’t need to know that. And now that Jack thought about it, maybe it was a problem. Before, kissing Snip goodbye had been a natural thing, but the few times he’d done it this week had been different and seemed to make her a little uneasy, almost twitchy.
Speaking of twitchy, Jack scanned right through the TV guide twice before finally finding the game, and the whole time, Will just kept staring at him.
After another couple seconds, Jack jerked his hands up slightly. “What?”
“You’re telling me there’s nothing going on between you and my wife?”
“Ex-wife.” It took a huge amount of effort to keep his voice even. “And yeah, that’s exactly what I’m telling you.”
“Then d’you want to explain why you’re going on a date on Sunday?”
“It’s not a date.” Jack bent his arm up behind his head and sighed. “Jayne invited me for dinner. Snip’s going too, so we’re going together. It’s no big deal.”
“No big deal? You hardly mentioned Maya in the last two years and now all of a sudden you’re going out for dinner together and you’re making friends with her fuckin’ posse—sounds like a hell of a big deal to me.”
“Jeezus, what are you—a twelve-year-old girl?” Jack toed off his runners, kicked them to the floor, then grunted. “Snip and I have always been friends; the only reason we didn’t talk for so long was because of you.”
“Me?” Will barked. “I never said you couldn’t talk to her.”
“Uh-huh, right. Maybe not in so many words.”
“What the hell’s that supposed to mean? You and I were friends way before—” Will stopped, blinked slowly, and shook his head. “Shit, I do sound like a twelve-year-old girl, don’t I?”
Jack opened his eyes as wide as he could and nodded. “Li’l bit, yeah.”
“Fuck.” It took Will a couple more seconds before he finally blew out a long breath. “I just don’t get why you’d want anything to do with her—the crazy bitch destroyed my house, Jack.”
“Yeah, she did.” That pretty little thing, whose soft scent still lingered in the room, was obviously a hell of a lot tougher than Will ever knew, and for some reason that struck Jack as hilarious. “You’re lucky she didn’t hack off your dick and stuff it down your throat while you slept.”
For a second there, he thought Will was going to get even more pissed, but then he shook his head and chuckled quietly.
“I’m still sort of surprised she didn’t,
” he said.
“Keep being a prick like you were tonight and she still might do it.” Jack waved the remote toward the TV. “Are you done bitching now? Can we watch the game?”
“Yeah.” Will’s grin faded as he stared down at the floor for a few seconds. “Sorry, man, I was out of line there; if you want to be friends with the little psycho, that’s your business, just be careful she’s not using you to get back at me.”
Keep your mouth shut, keep your mouth shut, keep your mouth shut.
“And don’t believe all that ex-wife bullshit I’m sure she spouts about me.”
“Relax,” Jack muttered. “She can’t make me think any less of you than I already do.”
He was joking…for the most part…and thankfully that’s how Will took it, so while Will was laughing, Jack jumped on the chance to change the subject.
“Looks like I’ll get the company tickets to one of the December Seahawks games if you want to come down.”
“Sure, yeah, if we’re around.”
“Where are you? Oh, right, the honeymoon.”
“Stella’s trying to talk me into going to Venice.”
“And…what? You’ve got something against getting a little culture in your life?”
“No,” Will scoffed. “I’ve got something against spending a shitload of money.”
“Don’t be such a tight-ass. You only get married once, right?” Quick as lightning, he rolled left, just in time to avoid Will’s kick, which ended up connecting with the bed instead of Jack’s kneecap.
They spent the next eight and a half innings as they usually did when they watched a game together; eating, drinking, and discussing the really important issues, like what kind of miracle it was going to take for the Mariners to clinch the wild-card spot and how Stella wanted to upgrade her phone but couldn’t make up her mind on which one to get.
Yup, important, world-altering topics that had absolutely nothing to do with Snip or the way Jack’s mouth could still feel the warmth of her cheek.