by Jade Kerrion
“Did you find him?”
“Not anyone living at or around 5th Avenue. No one seems to have misplaced a large, friendly dog. The kid who’s doing the calling for me is going to expand his search a little further.”
“How much money have you already spent on this?”
“Oh, the kid’s hourly rate isn’t nearly as much as Big Guy’s kibble. He eats like his next meal may never come.”
“Are you still buying that premium brand I told you not to buy?”
“It’s all organic, thank you very much.”
“The non-organic version works just as well. If you read the ingredient list—”
“I did. One says organic and the other says…well, it doesn’t say anything.”
“Trust me. You don’t need to go totally up-market on this.” Rico chuckled. “But then again, you probably do. I’ve never seen anyone baby a dog—especially a big, mean-looking dog as much as you do.”
She frowned at the phone. “He’s not mean-looking; are you, Big Guy?”
The dog thumped his tail on the bed.
“He looks like a more proportionate German Shepherd.”
Rico exploded into laughter. “And with that one sentence, you’ve insulted hundreds of thousands of proud German Shepherd owners.”
“It’s a gift I have. Lawyers don’t go out of their way to win sunshine points. So, tomorrow?”
“I’ll be there, ready for a romp before breakfast. By the way, I wanted to ask you about Valentine’s Day.”
She stiffened. “What about Valentine’s Day?”
“It’s a week away. Do you have any plans?”
Nicole drew a deep breath. I can do this. “No, I don’t.”
“Do you want to do dinner that night? I know it’s a bit cheesy, but I can’t meet up the Saturday before Valentine’s Day. It’s my parents’ wedding anniversary, and they’re expecting me to be at their place all day. I want to see you though. I don’t think I can make it two whole weeks without you—so Valentine’s Day seems like a good compromise.”
Just tell him now. “I don’t celebrate Valentine’s Day.”
Rico was silent for a long moment. “Okay,” he said, dragging the word out. “How about just a regular dinner, then?”
“Come on, Rico. You and I know it’s not just a regular dinner when it’s on Valentine’s Day.”
“What is your problem? Why are you so afraid of getting comfortable in this relationship?”
“We are having an affair,” she snapped out the words. “It’s not a relationship.”
“Great. Then you won’t have any concerns about coming over to my parents’ house next weekend for their anniversary party, will you?”
“That’s ridiculous. I’m not going to your parents’ party.”
“You’re afraid. That’s what you are, Ms. Barracuda. You’re afraid of anything that remotely resembles normal relationships. I’ll have you know something. We have a friendship. We had it from the moment we got into a rude spat over Big Guy. The time we spend together, the way we laugh together—that’s a relationship. Take it from someone who knows what those damn things look like.”
Her jaw dropped. “How dare you—”
“Five weeks in? Yes, I dare. I dare you to tell me you don’t think about me every day. I dare you to tell me that you don’t look forward to the weekends. Go on.” His voice rang with challenge. “Say it.”
We are not in a relationship.
The words caught on her breath, unable to get past the lump in her throat.
It didn’t matter that he was on the phone. It felt as though he were right in front of her. Panic fluttered in her chest. Her muscles tensed in preparation to turn and flee, but in that moment, she closed her eyes and saw him—a mental image built from weeks of knowing him. She knew what she would see in his eyes—exasperation and perhaps even anger, but in his clear, steady gaze, she had never seen the slow burn of malice or the quick flash of violence. Was he truly different?
Did she dare risk it?
Nicole cleared her throat. “What time next week?”
Relief flooded his voice. “Noon. I’ll pick you up at 11. And we’ll bring Big Guy too. My parents love dogs.”
“They raised a vet. Obviously, they did something right.” Reconciliation, she realized. She and Rico had had their first fight. And they’d survived.
It was the first time any of her affairs had survived an argument. Progress. Nicole’s mental voice resonated with surprise. Her heart leaped. I’m making progress.
Rico’s family home was a small house on Long Island, an hour away from downtown Manhattan. Nicole drew a deep breath as Rico parked his compact car in front of a white picket fence. Green shoots of grass sprinkled across the lawn; winter was giving way to spring. “So, let me get this straight. Your mom—Lena—and your dad—Jose. And your sister, Marie.”
“And her husband, Phil, my best friend since high school. When I blew out my knee and lost my football scholarship, his parents helped pay for my last year of college. We were bros long before he married my sister.”
“It doesn’t sound like a big anniversary party.”
“It’s not a party. It’s a celebration. Just family.” He chuckled as her eyes widened. “And friends. Family and friends.”
Breathing deeply didn’t seem to calm her racing heartbeat. She fiddled with the three pieces of paper she held in her hand, shuffling them like cards. “What did you tell your parents about me?”
“First, I told them you were a fire-breathing dragon, but they didn’t believe me. Then I told them you were a blood-sucking leech. Didn’t believe me either.”
“Even though it’s true?”
“Finally, I told them you were a sparkly flying unicorn, trapped in the body of a woman by a wicked witch.”
“And they believed that story?”
“Yup. Do you have your unicorn act down?”
“Did you also tell them that I poop rainbows?”
Rico exploded into huge guffaws of laughter. “You know what I love best about you? Your completely unexpected sense of humor.”
She stiffened at the word love, but he didn’t seem to notice; thank goodness. It was probably a figure of speech, his words carelessly slipping out. She pressed her lips together. No harm intended. In fact, he was already stepping out of the car to let Big Guy out of the backseat.
Nicole pressed her hands against her black pants and hoped they were not too moist. Goodness, what was wrong with her? Why was she acting like something as simple as lunch and a couple of hours of hanging out, watching football games, was such a big deal?
Because it was.
Because it had never happened before.
The tapping sound on her window yanked her out of her frantically cycling thoughts. Rico was staring at her, concern in his eyes. “You okay?” he asked when she opened the door and stepped out to join him and Big Guy.
“Yes, I am. I just needed a moment.” Nicole’s hand tightened, almost crumpling the papers she held.
“It’s going to be okay.” Rico squeezed her fingers lightly. “What are these?” he asked, taking the three pieces of paper from her. He turned them over. “Friendship. Affair. Love.” Rico frowned at her. “Are these tarot cards?”
“No, don’t be ridiculous. Sometimes, when I’m wrestling with a decision, I write down my options on paper.”
“And then what? Shuffle them and see what comes out on top?”
“Have you ever flipped a coin, seen a result you didn’t like, and then say, ‘best of three?’”
“All the time. It’s a physical check against your intuition.”
She shrugged. “It’s the same thing with these cards—a gut check.”
“So which one’s coming up on top?”
Nicole didn’t say. She didn’t know.
A hint of a frown touched his brow as Rico took the cards from her and slid them into his pocket. “You don’t have to make any decision about us right now. I’d just like
you to meet my family. My parents aren’t monsters.”
“I don’t want to screw it up.”
“You couldn’t possibly. Now, come on. You got the cake?”
Jose Vargas opened the door as they walked up the pathway. “Just in time! Did you bring dessert?”
Rico nodded and gestured to the box Nicole held. “Your favorite.”
“Strawberry cheesecake?” Jose grinned at Nicole’s nod. “Maybe we should start with dessert, eh?” He nodded genially at her. “Come on in. And who is this beautiful boy?” He stroked the dog’s head.
“His name is Big Guy,” Rico said. “Mostly due to lack of imagination on my and Nicole’s part. Dad, Nicole Lefton. Nicole, my father, Jose.”
Nicole smiled. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“Likewise, likewise.” Jose pumped Nicole’s hand. “This way, please.” He ushered her into the house. “Lena, Rico and Nicole are here.”
Lena bustled out of the kitchen. Her gray-streak hair was coiffed into a sleek hairstyle that offset the casualness of her sweater and denim jeans. Nicole found herself enveloped in a hug that smelled of fresh chopped basil. “It’s so good to see you. Rico has told us so much about you.”
“Oh, really?” Nicole arched an eyebrow as she glanced over her shoulder at Rico. “He probably made most of it up.”
Lena laughed. “He always told the most amazing stories. Used to keep his sister up all night with his tales of adventure. Pirates. Princes. You name it. He probably told it. Convinced her Prince Charming was around the corner, waiting for her.”
Nicole chuckled. “I don’t think he’s told me any of those stories.”
Rico kissed her forehead, an unexpectedly public motion that jolted through her. “You don’t look like the type who believes in fairy tales.”
“They went out of fashion a long time ago,” she said.
“Not really.” Lena glanced at Jose. Somewhere in her look of steady affection was the wide-eyed glance of a girl falling in love for the first time. “Sometimes, people are lucky enough to live the fairy tale, and sometimes, the story lasts for forty years.”
Jose grinned as he walked into the kitchen to help his wife with the dishes. “Maybe in ten years we’ll have something worth celebrating, eh?”
Fifty years were an astounding milestone, certainly, but forty years were amazing. Nicole glanced at Rico. He was looking at her with an expression on his face she might have described as tenderness if he didn’t simultaneously seem surprised. It was almost as if love had caught him off guard.
As it had her.
Nicole drew a deep breath. Here, in Rico’s home, surrounded by the rock-solid foundations of his family, finally admitting that she had fallen in love with him wasn’t was the terrifying proposition she had been afraid it would be. He had made a space for himself in her life. Instead of crowding her out, he had expanded it.
And life, she admitted, had become beautiful.
The ache in her chest was so acute she had to press a hand to it. Love, she thought. That’s what it feels like when love finally breaks free.
Rico could not possibly have sensed her jolting emotional transition, but when he gently squeezed her fingers, the connection felt right in a way nothing in her life had felt in a long time. The casual intimacy, the easy laughter, and most importantly, never feeling like she was walking on eggshells around him, afraid of making a single wrong move.
There was no fear and it felt wonderful. Liberating.
“You okay?” Rico asked softly.
“Yes.” Nicole nodded. Her smile was so wide her cheeks hurt. “I’ll tell you later.” I love you.
Behind her, Jose lifted up the blinds to peer out of the kitchen window. “Marie and Phil are late, as usual.”
“Want me to call them?” Rico asked.
“No, no,” Lena said. “She sent a text this morning and said she wasn’t feeling well, but I just got another text saying they’re on their way.”
Nicole’s senses pricked at the sudden glances exchanged among Lena, Jose, and Rico.
“They live in Brooklyn,” Lena continued. “No telling when they’ll make it, so we should just get started while the food is nice and hot. Come to the table, please.” She waved Nicole over and seated her in a chair between Lena and Jose.
Lunch was indeed a spread—not the Mexican food that Nicole had expected—but delicately flavored fish and seafood that reminded Nicole of her visit to Portugal and Spain. The sliced barbecue beef had a stronger flavor from an unusual blend of spices.
“Argentinian,” Rico said. “And better than some of the best in Buenos Aires.”
Lena blushed at the compliment. “It’s easy when you know how. My mother insisted I learn how to cook. Oh, how I hated it at first, but eventually it became a way to bring family together. Sometimes, it feels like the only way to get the kids home is to promise to cook dinner.” She looked at Nicole. “Do you cook?”
“I have a freezer, a microwave, and an oven. Thankfully, I’ve managed not to starve, but I’ll confess, I’m still trying to understand and justify the price differential between salt and sea salt.”
“Oh, sea salt—”
The doorbell buzzed.
“Oh, it must be Marie.” Lena jumped up from her seat and went to the door. Her face was set in a smile, but when the door opened, her smile evaporated into wide-eyed shock and grief.
Nicole stiffened. She had once seen that shattering transformation on her mother’s face.
“Marie.” Lena extended her arms, and a younger woman walked straight into them. Lena enfolded her arms around the woman and ushered her down the corridor toward the bedroom, but not before Nicole caught a glimpse of the young woman’s swollen eyes—but not just from tears.
Nicole threw Rico an urgent glance, but he was not looking at her. He was staring after his sister. A muscle ticked in his cheek as he shot to his feet and went to the door. Nicole hurried after him as he strode down the path to the front gate where a young man lounged against a car.
Lounged, Nicole realized, was the wrong word. Despite the seemingly indolent posture, the man’s shoulders were hunched, his entire frame taut with tension.
Rico did not even say hi. “What was that about?”
The man shook his head, the gesture sharp and dismissive. “You know how she is when she starts talking. Got on my case today about the party. She was pissed off because I was still sleeping.”
“So you hit her?”
“She just yaps and yaps.” The man brought a hand up to the side of his head. “Makes it ring like a damned church bell. I told her to shut up. She wouldn’t.”
Nicole’s heart pounded so hard in her chest, her head was spinning from the rush of blood. She clenched her fists to steady herself and was surprised to find her hands cold.
Something nudged hard against her thigh. She glanced down. Big Guy. She put a hand on his head. The contact was enough to steady her.
Some part of her mind told her it wasn’t her business, but it was a tiny, frightened voice, lost in furious roar to do something.
Nicole marched forward, Big Guy beside her.
The man—presumably Marie’s husband, Phil—looked up. His startled gaze fell on the dog. “That looks just like… Klaus?”
To Nicole’s astonishment, the dog walked up to Phil, tail wagging.
“Wow.” Phil knelt to embrace the dog. His eyes were moist. “Never thought I’d see you again.”
“Is he your dog?” Nicole asked.
“He was our dog—the whole platoon’s—although Leo was his handler. Klaus was out in Afghanistan with us. He’s got some other name—a mouthful—but we all called him Klaus, for Santa Claus, because he was a real gift. Super gentle—would never hurt a soul—but he found all the mines before we knew they were there. He sniffed out weapon depots like they were candy.”
“A military dog,” Rico murmured. “It explains a lot—like his tendency to walk ahead instead of at heel. Was he release
d from the service?”
“I don’t know. Leo was…killed…in the same blast that sent me home. I didn’t know what happened to Klaus after that.” Phil ruffled the dog’s fur. “It wasn’t Klaus’s fault. He wasn’t even there. He was back at the base. He couldn’t have known that a RPG would hit the APC.”
Rico looked at Nicole. “Some dogs don’t take well to a change in their handlers. They must have discharged Klaus after that incident, but now that we know he’s a former military dog, I’m sure we’ll be able to track down his owner.”
Nicole stared at Rico. Was he out of his mind? Why would he give a damn who Big Guy’s owner was when his sister had been beaten by her husband? She glared at Phil. “You hit your wife?”
Rico made some kind of waving motion with his hand as if to tell her to back off.
How dared he? She stalked up to Phil. “Domestic abuse is a crime.”
The man stiffened.
Rico grabbed Nicole’s shoulders and pulled her away from Phil. “That’s enough. I’ll handle this.”
She shook off his hands. “Handle it? How? By making small talk about the dog? This isn’t the first time, is it? The weekend after we met, when you had to rush off…it was your sister who called you. Did she say then that her husband had beaten her too?”
The tautness in Rico’s face confirmed it.
“And I bet that wasn’t the first time either.”
“I’m handling this situation,” Rico said, his voice low, but firm. “You don’t know what’s going on.”
“Don’t I? It looks pretty obvious to me.” Nicole jerked her head to the house. “Your sister is in the house with a bloodied eye. You’re out here chatting about dogs with the man who hit her.”
“Nicole, you’re not helping. I’ve got this under control. Let me handle this.”
Phil glared at Nicole. “I never meant to hit Marie, but she starts out and it gets to me, and in the end, it’s all I can hear.”
“If you’re the problem, learn to walk away.”
“If she didn’t start yelling, none of this would have happened.”
“So it’s her fault?” Nicole’s voice dripped sarcasm. “Never yours, right? It’s always the woman’s fault when she’s hit. It’s her fault when she’s raped.”