by Aly Martinez
Well, okay, then. I guessed I really was leaving.
After tiptoeing around fifty dollars of bubble tea and broken cookies, I grabbed my purse off the desk and dug one of my business cards out. “Sorry about your skirt. Send me the bill for your dry cleaning. It’s cute. I’d hate for it to get ruined.”
With a warm smile, she took the card. “Thanks. You don’t have to do that. It goes right in the washer.”
“Oh. Well, then use my number to text me where you got it.” With that, I headed to the door, Bowen following me out.
Side by side, we walked together to my car. I really hoped he’d lead the conversation for once, but by the time we reached the hood of my Honda Pilot, the silence was killing me.
“What are you doing tonight?” I peered up at him, using a hand to shield the sun. “Any chance you’ll let me make this up to you? Dinner on me?”
He stabbed a hand into the top of his neatly combed hair and let out a sigh. “Look, I can’t do this. Okay? I can’t be your accountant, I can’t have drinks or dinner with you, and…whatever the hell almost happened back there, I can’t do it, either. I’m sorry. Questionable plant spending aside, you seem great. Beautiful, smart, funny—the whole package. But this is a me thing.” Pressing his palms together like a prayer, he tapped his index fingers to his lips. “I am begging you to please just respect that.”
Well, shit. That made me feel like a jerk. I was a forward person, not one to back down in the face of rejection—sales had taught me that. But enough was enough. I didn’t have many female friends, but I was reasonably sure Mark and Aaron had never begged a woman to leave them alone.
This wasn’t just strike three. That was strike three in the bottom of the ninth. Game over.
It stung like hell, but I couldn’t be mad at him. He’d laid it out—blunt and to the point. If anything, it made me respect him even more. Disappointing as it was.
“Okay.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Okay?”
“Yeah. Totally. I didn’t mean to come across as a crazy woman. I’m not going to lie: You’ve definitely piqued my curiosity, Bowen Michaels. But if you’re not interested, you should never have to beg somebody to respect that.”
A sad smile broke across his face. “I didn’t say I wasn’t interested, Remi. I just said I can’t.”
I swayed my head from side to side. “See, I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that. I don’t think my neck can take any more whiplash from you.”
He chuckled, and for the first time, I saw a glimmer of a sense of humor. It was like when the sun pops out during a rain shower. But the cold, hard truth was I was still getting drenched in the downpour of rejection.
“Fair enough,” he said.
“Right, well… I think that’s my cue to go. Have an absolutely beautiful life, and let me know if you ever decide you can.”
“Absolutely,” he muttered, dropping his gaze to his shoes.
I had no idea what was going on in Bowen’s life. God knew I had enough shit in my own to know better than to ask questions. The hardest part was we were both walking away disappointed that day.
No one could say I didn’t try though.
“Oh, wait,” I said, digging into my purse. “I almost forgot. Here.” I extended the safety pin in his direction. “Who knows. Maybe there’s another girl out there with a cursed dress who will need it one day. Not all heroes wear capes, right? Some just save the day with safety pins.”
I expected the confusion that crinkled his forehead. It was a used safety pin for Pete’s sake, but I was not prepared for the pure and utter awe that stared back at me.
“What did you say?” he gasped.
I blanched, thrown off by the back-and-forth flow of normal dialogue I was suddenly—and finally—having with him. “Which part?”
“All of it.” He didn’t wait for me to answer. “You kept that?”
I shrugged. “Kinda. It took me this long to finally get the courage up to touch that dress again. Anyway, I thought you might want it back.”
He didn’t so much as take it from me as I awkwardly shoved it in his hand.
I had to get out of there. Fascinating as it was, I didn’t need to know Bowen’s obsession with safety pins. He’d made himself clear, and I had a feeling the more I got to know him, the harder it would be to leave him alone.
“Take care, Bowen.”
His face got soft as an honest-to-God smile beamed back to me. “Thanks, Remi.”
It was probably for the best that we never went on a date. My bedroom wasn’t big enough for all my plants and every single safety pin in the world that I would inevitably beg, barter, and steal for him based on that one smile alone.
Though the ache in my chest as I got in my car and drove away didn’t feel like the best at all.
Bowen
Seven months before the plane crash…
“Nooo, you got dressed,” I groaned when she slid back into bed beside me, her soft breasts molding to my side.
“Oh, hush.” She kissed the underside of my jaw. “We both know you are in no condition for round three.”
I rolled into her, tasting her mouth before mumbling against it, “Well, not yet. But the night is young.”
“Maybe. But you are not.” She giggled.
I was only a few years older than she was. The delineation being the jump from twenties to thirties that she never let me forget. I could have been a hundred and that one giggle would have been enough to raise my cock from the dead.
Grinning, I tickled her. “You sure about that, smartass?”
She laughed, loud and breathtaking. “Bowen, stop.”
I did. Immediately. Not because my chest wasn’t full for the first time in months from seeing her lost in laughter, but rather because I wanted to keep her that way. Smiling. Happy. At peace.
Relaxing onto my back, I pulled her close, sliding an arm under her head. “Okay. But don’t say I didn’t warn you, Sally. You’re going to be in serious trouble in an hour or two.”
With a sigh, she draped a leg over my hips and used her fingertips to trace circles on my chest. “Hey, Bowen?”
“Right here, babe.”
“You know I love you, right?”
“Of course.” Dipping low, I kissed the top of her head. “And I love you too. More than anything.”
“Yeah. I know. And, well, I just…wanted you to know…it’s okay if you want to love somebody else.”
My whole body jerked. From the timid tone of her voice, it didn’t sound like she’d intended it as a blow, but it had landed like a TKO all the same.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I rumbled, giving her a pointed squeeze. “I don’t want anybody else.”
The room was dark, but as she tilted her head back, the familiar tears sparkling in her eyes were unmistakable. “But you might. One day.”
“No. I won’t.”
“You could.”
“No. I couldn’t.”
“You don’t know that!” she yelled, abruptly sitting up.
My mouth slammed shut as I studied her face. I was used to the mood swings. The highs and the lows, the jarring confusion when the two suddenly collided. But I was still naked and sated after having spent the last two hours worshipping her body for the first time in months. I was not prepared for an argument. Honestly, I would have done anything, short of agreeing to love somebody else, to avoid it.
“Relax,” I said, low and even. “It’s okay. We’re okay.”
“We’re not though.” She crisscrossed her legs, the inches of space it put between us felt like miles. “You have to be prepared, Bowen. You’re a nurturer. It’s who you are and who you’ll always be. But I may not always be here for you to take care of. You’ve already quit your job and put your whole life on hold for me.” She screwed her eyes shut. “I know you love me, but you’re too amazing of a man to simply exist at my side. We stand on very opposite ends of the whole soul mate debate, but what if you’re wrong? What if
I’m not who you’re supposed to end up with? What if there’s someone out there who can love you better than I can? I can’t stand the idea of you being so caught up in my clusterfuck that you wouldn’t even notice them walk by.”
Looking back, I should have seen it. I should have read between the lines and heard her cry for help. I should have fucking dragged her to the hospital the very same night. But that night had reminded me what good felt like, what we felt like, and I was still basking in the high of having made love to a woman who had my full—and forever—undivided attention. I’d naïvely thought we were at a turning point, not a dead end.
Unwilling to match her intensity, I stared at her for several seconds, waiting for her eyes to open. I didn’t want her to only hear what I had to say. I needed her to see me make the promise and then hopefully absorb it so we never had to have this unnecessary conversation again.
Sliding up the bed, I put my back to the headboard and curled my hands around the sides of her neck. “Babe, look at me.”
She shook her head. Eyes still closed. Cheeks still damp.
“Sally,” I pressed. “Look at me.”
In the very next beat, her eyes flashed open, so much fear and pain blazing within. I never got used to it. Seeing her suffer almost broke me. And knowing this time that it was because she was worried about me… Well, that sliced me to the core. I couldn’t fix much for her, but this one I could handle.
“I love you. Every woman in the damn world could walk past me and I wouldn’t see any of them. But let’s just say you decide this isn’t working out for you. Maybe if me stealing all your covers and forgetting to set the coffee maker the night before becomes too much. All you have to do is say the word and I’ll reluctantly get back to looking, okay?”
Her shoulders sagged as she blinked back another round of tears. “I just need you to be happy.”
I swiped my thumb over her bottom lip before leaning in to press a deep and lingering kiss to her mouth. “I am happy. Things are hard right now, but they’ll get better. We always get better.”
“Yeah.” She exhaled, her relief palpable. “We always do.” Leaning back, she retrieved something off her nightstand. “I want you to keep this.”
A smile pulled at my lips as I took the silver safety pin from her fingers. “Is this…the same one?”
She nodded. “You’ve fixed me so many times, Bowen. I want you to have it. That way, maybe one day, I can be the one to fix you.” Wrapping her hand over mine, she closed my hand around the silly memento. “Who knows. Maybe somebody else will need a hero one day.”
Present Day…
I heard Remi’s car door shut.
I heard her start the ignition.
And I heard her drive away.
I saw none of it though because, dumbstruck, I stood on the sidewalk, my gaze glued to the safety pin in my hand.
The safety pin I’d given her.
The safety pin she’d kept.
And the very same safety pin she’d returned. Oh, because why not? As if having a beautiful woman, who I found absolutely mesmerizing—albeit clumsy as hell—and was proving to be as relentless as I was weak wasn’t hard enough. Now I had to deal with deciphering between signs from the universe and chance?
What the fuck did it even mean? Who returned a safety pin of all things?
I knew of only one person, inconvenient as it might have been.
After the plane crash, I’d done a lot of cursing the universe. Why me? Why us? Why her? It had made no sense, after everything we’d been through—everything we’d survived—that I would ultimately lose her.
Sally hadn’t believed in soul mates or fate or even a higher power running the show, and she’d found it hysterical that I—Mr. Analytical as she’d called me—did. There was no other way to explain how every step—and misstep—I’d taken in my life had led me to her.
However, if I was subscribing to the theory that fate was dealing the cards, it also meant I had to at least consider how Remi had suddenly stumbled into my life—three times now.
If I’d arrived at the courthouse one minute later, she wouldn’t have elbowed me in the face.
If I’d gone straight home after work, she wouldn’t have seen me at McMurphy’s.
If she hadn’t spilled those damn drinks, I wouldn’t have had to touch her, reminding me just how fucking incredible it felt to have a woman in my arms.
All of that couldn’t have happened by pure chance alone.
It was probably nothing but a crush for Remi. Hell, I wasn’t a swamp ogre. It wasn’t impossible that a woman found me attractive. That alone would have been easy enough to write off. But there was no denying the Goddamn safety pin. Or the indisputable truth that I craved Remi Grey in ways I’d never be able to ignore.
If the universe was once again playing its hand at matchmaking, I couldn’t very well sit this one out.
Turning the pin in my fingers, I shook my head. Honestly, why was I even surprised?
“Well played, Sally. Well played.”
Remi
“Just pull me out, dammit,” I snapped at Aaron.
Searching for just the right angle, he stood over me, his phone held high, recording as he laughed. “First, I have to document this glorious and completely humiliating moment for you. You’ll thank me when you go viral.”
I impatiently waved a hand in his direction. “I swear, if you post this on TikTok, I’m firing you as my best friend.”
He slanted his head and shot me a grin. “Are you really in a position to be making idle threats right now?”
Being that I was stuck half in, half out of the crawl space under a house, it was safe to say I was not in the position for anything other than being cocooned for eternity in a spider’s web.
I huffed. “I should have called Mark.”
Aaron folded over, put his hands on his knees, and peered into the small space around me. “Could there be snakes in there?”
“I’m not sure, but there will be snakes in your bed tonight if you don’t help me up. Come on. I’m losing circulation to my feet.” It wasn’t true. My feet were fine, but it was safe to say my gray silk blouse would never be the same.
This was what I got for doubting the home inspector when he’d put in his report that the floor to the downstairs bathroom was rotting out. He was in fact correct, by the way. Though I’d missed the part in his write-up about how the hell he’d gotten out of the crawl space. For all I knew, he had pulled the same Winnie the Pooh maneuver on the other side.
“Hurry up. My clients will be home any minute.”
“Okay, okay,” he said, tucking his phone into his back pocket and then grabbing my hands.
It took a few attempts, him pulling, me wiggling, but eventually, he dragged me free. Mulch was permanently embedded in my shirt, but my pants would dry clean okay.
“Thank you,” I said, brushing myself off as best as I could.
He grinned. “No, no. Thank you.”
“Don’t you dare tag me in that video.”
He slapped his chest with feigned innocence. “Who, me? Why, I would never.”
I collected my clipboard off the porch and gave him a side-eye. He would. He had. And with my luck, he’d do it again before we even pulled out of the driveway.
My phone rang as we walked to our cars, Grey Realty flashing on my screen. I glanced at Aaron one last time. “Think before you post, Lanier. Don’t forget: I have a video of you ironing pantsless, singing Brooks and Dunn’s ‘My Maria’ like you were auditioning for American Idol.”
His mouth fell open and his eyes squinted in challenge.
I waved him off as I put the phone to my ear. “Hello.”
“Where are you?” Amber, Grey Realty’s head administrative assistant/intern/college student/social media specialist, whispered across the line.
“I’m leaving the Maplewood house. What’s up?”
“Well, um, it’s almost six and I need to clock out, but there’s a man in the wai
ting room. What am I supposed to do?”
My forehead crinkled as I climbed into my car. “What man? And why are you whispering?”
She kept her voice low. “I think his name is Michael Bowen or something. I can’t remember. He told me not to bother you, but he’s been waiting for over an hour for you to get back here and I have an appointment at the tanning bed at six-thirty. What do I do?”
“I don’t know a Michael Bo—” The words died on my tongue as a huge smile stretched my lips. “Bowen Michaels?”
“Maybe? Hot guy, dark hair, beard, seriously wicked eyes.”
“Suit?” My stomach somersaulted.
“White button-down with the sleeves rolled up. He brought a cactus.”
At that, something fluttered a little farther south. Not at the cactus part, though it was curious. There was literally only one look sexier than a suit, and every woman knew exactly what it was.
Apparently, Bowen Michaels knew too.
“I’m on my way. I’ll be there in ten.”
The drive to my office was short. I spent the whole time trying to make myself somewhat presentable. It was a lost cause. I looked like hell, but my house was in the opposite direction, so a trip home to shower, shave, pluck, ladyscape, brush my teeth, do my hair, apply fresh makeup, and lastly change clothes was out of the question.
But realistically, the last time he’d seen me, I was covered in bubble tea. Mulch was par for the course at this point.
I’d been a realtor for years, but I’d only recently opened my own office. From a financial standpoint, we didn’t need a storefront, but I had big plans to expand and take on other agents, so I’d rented an end unit at a strip mall with room to grow. Mark and Aaron had helped me move in, but everything in the office had been either painted, planted, or handpicked by me. I was proud of the little space, but never had it stolen my breath before until I walked inside and found Bowen sitting in a cream club chair surrounded by the rainforest phase B.
“Bowen?” I said with enough surprise in my voice to keep Amber out of trouble. I’d been on the receiving end of one of his glares. There was no need to throw her under the bus for having called me. “What are you doing here?”