“I just needed…something. Don’t worry, it’s out of my system. I just forgot to put the bottle in the fridge.”
“Bridget, I just want you completely sober tonight. We have a lot to discuss.” He softened his voice as she became defensive and agitated by his questioning.
“I am. If I wasn’t before, I am now.” Her words bit, and he knew he had messed up again. Unfortunately, he had no idea how to fix it.
She placed the vase in the middle of her small table, adjusting it once. “I forgot how much I like getting flowers.” Before he could respond, she pointed to her bedroom. “I need to grab my shoes and jewelry, then I’ll be ready to go.”
He followed her until he stood at the entrance of her bedroom. When she bent down to search for her shoes, her dress rode up just enough. The view of the back of her upper thighs was incredible. He tried to control his thoughts, but, like so many other times, his desire won.
Visions of what he wanted to do with her, and to her flashed through his imagination. She leaned against the wall, sliding on her heels. Just as she turned, she startled when she noticed him in her doorway. “Oh! I didn’t see you there.” He didn’t mean to follow her. It wasn’t something he normally did, but after spending those few moments in her room earlier, he wanted to be in her space with her. It smelled like her, and everything in it represented who she was. “My dates usually don’t follow me into my bedroom before we go out,” she teased. It took her a moment before she realized what she said. “I didn’t mean it like that! I didn’t…you know…not when Katie was here and only…” She covered her face with her hands. “I can’t believe I just said that. I didn’t sleep with every guy I dated. Not that you care. I just wanted to put it out there. I’m going to shut up.” Flustered, she turned away to reach for her jewelry box.
Loosening his fists, he tried not to think of the men who had been in her bed. He wasn’t naïve. She’d had sex, but he didn’t particularly care to be reminded of it. It brought out the possessive side of him that he didn’t like.
Jealousy was ugly, and when he thought of her with her former boyfriends, it made him sick to his stomach. He’d wanted her so badly that he’d turn to other women, believing he’d never have a chance with her. They didn’t bring him what he honestly desired. Bridget. Always Bridget.
“Sorry.” He took another step inside as she pulled out the jewelry he gave her. Instead of buying his girlfriend at the time a Valentine’s Day present, he found the perfect necklace for Bridget. He saved it to give it to her for her birthday four years ago.
He blatantly stared at her, not bothering to hide his want or arousal. She was beautiful, inside and out, and should be looked at, admired, and worshiped.
She put the earrings in but struggled with the clasp of her necklace. Silently, he walked up behind her, surprising her once again. Looking at her through the mirror, he watched as her mouth opened slightly until he placed the necklace around her neck. She closed her eyes and took a shuddering breath as he clasped it and adjusted it. The small emerald hung low, as if to draw his attention to the place he was admiring earlier. Holding back was becoming more difficult. All he wanted to do was to tell her he loved her and make love to her, to kiss her, and slowly strip her dress off, so he could admire every incredible inch of her.
His hands shook as they slid down to her hips where he gripped them. “Are you ready?”
She nodded and turned in his arms.
“God, Bridget. There are no words to describe how beautiful you are.” He caressed her cheek with the back of his hand, sliding down her neck. She tilted her head, allowing him access. He desperately wanted to take advantage of it, but not before he talked to her.
With hands fisted in restraint once again, he pulled away, hopefully for the last time. He was beginning to lose his control. It appeared, he wasn’t the only one. “We should go.” As he turned to leave, he saw the open box and piles of notebooks scattered on her bed. “What’s this?”
Her cheeks flushed under his stare. “My writing. Up until Katie.” She shrugged as if it was no big deal, but the way she placed the notebooks back in the box told a different story.
“I didn’t realize you wrote.”
“I loved it. Still do. I just hadn’t written anything for a really long time.”
“Can I read something?” He bent forward to pick up a notebook, but the crease in her forehead and her tense eyes made him pull back. “It’s okay. When you’re ready, I’d love to read whatever you write.”
“I’ve never let anyone read my stories, except a high school teacher…and, apparently, Katie,” she said with a low chuckle.
“Katie?”
“Yeah. She found this box and made her way through some awful stories.” She smiled up at him, and the crease on her forehead eased.
“Stories? Huh. Is that what you’ve been doing so secretly on your laptop?”
Her jaw dropped, and she sucked in a deep breath.
He had answered her question before she asked. “I notice everything about you, Bridget.” He held her gaze. She bit down on her lower lip as her cheeks turned a lovely shade of pink. It took him a moment to remember what they were talking about. His brain could only concentrate on the shape of her lips, her soft skin, and her hair that he was dying to pull out of its bun.
Clearing his throat, he took a hold of her hand and led her out of her room. “So what have you been writing?” he asked curiously.
“Umm...a story.” Her vague reply only intrigued him. Digging deeper may push her away, but his curiosity won out.
“What’s it about?”
“I guess it’s about…me, a sixteen-year-old girl, whose life changed for the better when she met the best man she has ever known.” She blushed again.
Never in his life had he wanted to read something so badly. The only question left to ask was, “How does it end?”
She shook her head. “I don’t know.”
Breaking from his gaze, she noticed the gift on her coffee table. She looked back to him and pointed to the present. “Is that for me?”
His mouth turned up into a sly grin. “Yeah…” He cleared his throat. “I had no idea that… Well…open it.” He sat down on the couch, pulling her next to him, and placed the wrapped package on her lap. She looked back and forth between him and the gift as she ripped off the paper.
“What? Oh my God, Billy!” she gasped, then big rolling tears slid down her cheeks. She wiped them away with the back of her hand. “I’m starting to think I’ll never stop crying today, but…this.” She placed it on the table and launched herself into his arms. She had one knee braced next to his thigh while the rest of her draped over him. With her cheek pressed against his, she whispered, “Thank you. You shouldn’t have.”
He’d do it every day if it meant he could hold her like this and put a smile on her face. “Yes, I should. Especially now that I know you’re writing. I had no idea. You’ve been using that old computer, and I don’t think it’ll last much longer.” She pulled away and sat beside him, staring at her new laptop. Unable to stop talking, he nervously rambled on and on about the aspects of it.
He loved making her happy, but at the same time was uncomfortable with thanks. She just stared at it with her eyes shining. Her hand slid across his thigh and took his hand. She entwined their fingers, and they sat in silence for a few minutes. “If I’d had any idea that you had started writing, I would’ve bought you one sooner. I want to support you in everything you do. I’m always going to be here for you, and I’ll be your biggest cheerleader.”
“You’ve always been that for me, ever since I walked into your diner. You don’t have to buy me things, but I appreciate it.” She tightened her hold on his hand and with a voice barely above a whisper, she said, “You’re always thinking of me.”
There wasn’t a truer statement. “I am.”
Chapter Thirty-Six
June 2012
Billy
“Billy! Is that you?”
He turned to see a familiar and lovely face. “Freja?” He hung up the gas pump nozzle and stepped over the median as she moved around her car and gave him a full-length view.
“Wow. Look at you.” He squeezed her into a friendly hug. “You are absolutely glowing.”
“Thanks.” She smiled as she rubbed her extremely pregnant belly. “You’re very sweet.”
“What are you doing in town?” The last thing he heard, she had joined Doctors Without Borders.
“Work. I came to do a consultation.”
“How long are you here?”
“Actually, I’m heading home to Phoenix tonight. But I have time for an old friend if you’re free for dinner. I’m starving. As usual.” Her laugh brought a smile to his face. It was one of the things he missed most about her.
“We wouldn’t want baby and Mama to go hungry. How about your favorite Mexican restaurant?”
“Perfect. I’ll meet you there.”
She finished his rice and beans after clearing her own plate.
“So tell me everything. I haven’t heard from you since you came back from Africa.”
“Well,” she smiled, “I married the guy.”
“The one you left me for?”
“Billy!” She pinched his arm. “Don’t start.”
“I’m not. I’m happy for you. So you’re married and pregnant.”
“I also have a rambunctious three-year-old.”
A wave of warmth filled him seeing her so happy. “That’s wonderful. Any pictures?”
“Of course, what kind of mother would I be?” She pulled out her phone and flipped through happy family photos. The images revealed an attractive couple and impish little boy. “You seem happy.”
“I am. I never imagined it could be this good.” She grinned at the picture of her little man hamming it up. “What about you? You and Bridget married?”
“Just friends.” Always just friends.
“Please, tell me you’re kidding.” She shook her head and gave him the same ‘Mom look’ he repeatedly got from Diane. “Seriously, Billy?” she huffed. “You are unbelievable. You enjoy torturing yourself?”
“Excuse me?”
“You know what I’m talking about. You’re in love with her, but you’re still not with her. Have you even tried?” She took his water and finished it off for him.
“It has never been the right time.”
“So, that would be a no? You were supposed to be with her. She’s why we broke up. All those years we tried to make it work, but it never would because you were in love with Bridget.”
“And now look at you. You’re married,” he said with a wry smile, trying to change the subject.
“Happily married, mind you. I want that for you. On the surface, we were great, but what I have with Matt is more, so much more. It’s a core-deep love you and I never shared. I believe it’s what you could have with Bridget.”
He couldn’t argue with her. He knew it could be. Would be.
“You’re not getting any younger,” she teased.
After paying the bill, he followed her to her car. She kissed his cheek and said, “Love you, Billy.”
“Love you, too.” He gave her one last hug and helped her in the car. “Keep in touch.”
“I will.” She waved as she pulled away.
He watched her drive away and thought about what she said. He also thought about Bridget. Neither of them were currently dating anyone. Nothing was keeping them apart except for themselves.
He felt a surge of confidence and decided he would go see her. He needed to at least test the waters.
As he drove across town to her apartment, he caught a glimpse of a familiar shape sitting on a park bench. It was dark, but a street light shone down on her like a spotlight.
He pulled over and jogged to her. “Sweets?”
“Billy?” She ran into his arms, tears streaking down her face. He held her tight and choked when he smelled alcohol on her breath.
He kept an arm around her as he guided her to his truck. “What are you doing out here—alone?”
She came to a halt a few feet from the truck. “Don’t tell Mom!” she cried.
“Don’t ask me to do that.” He settled her in his truck and helped her buckle the seatbelt since her hands were trembling.
“Tell me what happened.”
“Promise you won’t tell Mom?”
“No. But if you tell me what happened, I might be able to smooth things over with her.”
“Fine, but don’t leave me alone with her.” She had good reason to be afraid. Bridget turned into a rampaging mama bear when it came to boys and parties.
“Deal. Now, what happened?”
“Dean took me to a party.” He held back a sigh at the mention of her boyfriend’s name. Billy should have known he would be involved in whatever had happened. Why couldn’t she have picked a better guy for a first boyfriend?
“I can smell.” He rolled down the windows to clear the stench from his truck.
She sighed dramatically and rolled her eyes.
“Go on,” he said.
“Dean and I were making out, and he wanted to go further. I did too—at first.”
Billy sucked in a breath and gripped the steering wheel.
Don’t. Freak. Out.
“We left the party to find a…um…well, anyway, I changed my mind.”
Breathe. Just breathe.
“He got frustrated and told me to get out of the car. He dropped me off here, but I left my phone in his car so I couldn’t call.”
Don’t kill him. If you go to prison, Bridget and Katie would be alone again.
He let the silence hang between them until he could speak without letting his murderous mental dialogue show. If he saw that kid again... It would just be better if he didn’t. “I’m glad you didn’t let him pressure you.”
She rolled her eyes. “You have met my mom, right?”
“Yes, which is why we’re stopping at my house and getting you some food and coffee before I take you home.”
“Thanks, my Billy.” It had been a few years since she called him ‘my Billy.' If she wanted to soften him, it worked.
“Don’t thank me. I’m still going to take you home, and you will have to tell her what happened.”
“I have a better idea. How about you call her and tell her what happened? I can sleep over and give her enough time to calm down.”
“Nope.”
She leaned her head against the door and sighed. “She’s going to be pissed.”
“Probably.”
* * *
Fed and pumped with coffee, Sweets took her own sweet time getting back in the truck. As much as he didn’t want to go, he also wanted to get it over with.
As he turned the key in the ignition, Bridget’s ringtone blared like a trumpet in the quiet pickup. He glanced at Sweets, who chanted, “Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit.”
“Hello?”
“Dean’s here, and Katie isn’t.” The panic in her voice was reaching epic levels.
“She’s with me.”
The phone went silent. He lifted it away from his face to see if they were still connected.
“She called you and not me?” Bridget didn’t wait for a response. “Bring her home.” The phone disconnected.
“That was her?”
He nodded.
“I don’t want to go home,” Katie whispered.
He didn’t want to take her home.
“I know she’s going to freak out. She’s afraid I’m going to get pregnant at sixteen, but she needs to give me a little credit.”
“She tries, but she also lived through it. It wasn’t easy for her.” He was still in awe of how she did it.
“Maybe she’ll be less angry if you’re with me,” she said hopefully.
“Doubt it.”
* * *
Katie tried to hide behind him as they entered the apartment, but he managed to push her through first.
Bridget clutch
ed Katie to her with a death grip. “You’re safe!” Bridget choked on the tears streaming down her face.
“Mom, I can’t breathe.”
She held onto Katie’s arms as she stepped back. “What were you thinking? You should have called me.”
“I’m sorry. Dean has my phone.” They turned to stare at the boy who started it all. He leaned against the wall, sweaty, awkward, and looking as if his head was on the chopping block. He still had the sparkly case in his hand and held it out like a shield. Billy took it from him.
“What happened?” Bridget demanded. The tears were gone and her jaw was set.
“Mom, calm down.” Katie held up a hand and stepped away from her.
Bridget pinched her lips and pointed her finger. “Don’t tell me what to do.”
“Okay. Fine. Go nuts.” Billy cringed inwardly. Katie was making it harder for herself.
“Katherine Bree Larson, I am your mother. You will not speak to me that way.” Billy and Katie took another step back.
Oh Shit. She used all three names.
“Sorry. We went to a party.”
“Okaaaay…” Bridget held her hand out, waiting for her to finish and tapped her foot impatiently
“We were making out and things were getting—”
“Oh my God! You’re having sex, and you didn’t tell me?” Billy’s hand hit his forehead.
“You knew?” She pointed to him. “How dare you keep this from me!”
“Bridget—” She cut him off with a cold stare.
“Not. A. Word.”
Katie turned to Billy with pleading eyes, but he had nothing. She turned back to Bridget. “Mom, we didn’t have sex.”
“Are you using protection? Why didn’t you tell me you were having sex? We’re going to make a doctors’ appointment tomorrow. You’re going on birth control. I can’t believe you’re having sex and didn’t tell me.” Bridget’s eyes were round and manic. She threw her arms in all directions while she yelled.
Until Now Page 22