In Other Words

by Jennifer Woodhull

  “Maybe. You never know what fate has in store, though. I loved my wife since we were little kids. Lost her in college—never thought I’d get her back, but here we are.” He pulls his phone from his pocket and shows me a photo of a gorgeous blonde and three of the cutest kids I’ve ever seen.

  “I guess, when you think you’re losin’ somethin’ important, you can flee, or you can fight, but you gotta pick.”

  The cowboy philosopher takes another draw from the pint glass in his hand. “So, what’s it gonna be for you, bud?”

  I finish my beer and pat him on the shoulder as I stand up from the bar. “Don’t know yet, but maybe you’re onto something. If I’ve really lost her, I don’t know that I can ever love anyone else.”

  I consider that for a moment. If she’s really it for me, maybe he’s right—maybe I do have to pick a response.

  Flee or fight.

  In Dexland, I’d fight for the girl. I’d take no prisoners, fight tooth and nail, and make her mine. Things in real life don’t happen like they do in Dexland, though.

  Although, I’m starting to wonder if maybe they should.

  CHAPTER 29

  Sinclair

  I TOOK A HALF DAY from work today, cleaned the whole house, and have been working on dinner all afternoon. I’m cooking a paella from scratch. There are fresh flowers on the table in the dining room, and everything is just about ready.

  “Babe, that smells fucking fantastic,” Cole walks into the kitchen, fresh from the shower. He has a towel wrapped around his waist as he leans around me to grab an olive from the cutting board where I’m arranging some hors d’oeuvres onto a plate.

  “Thanks. It’s seafood paella. I made sangria, too.” I smile, proud of my efforts.

  Cole wraps an arm around my waist, and crooks his finger to pull my hair back away from my neck, depositing his lips there. “You smell pretty fucking delicious too. We’ve got some time before Dexter gets here.”

  His hand slides down my thigh, slipping under the hem of my dress, and finds its way between my legs. I press my thighs together and squirm as he strokes the lace of my panties, his fingers pressing harder.

  “Cole, I have to finish dinner. Besides, he’ll be here any minute.” I huff out an aggravated breath.

  “Come on, babe,” he nips at my earlobe. “Let me just have a little taste to whet my appetite before dinner, hmm?”

  I’m trying not to be impatient, but I want everything to be perfect tonight. Besides, it feels like this is all we do anymore. He works out, he plays, he comes home, exhausted, and wants to fuck. We don’t go out, but even worse, we don’t really talk or do anything together but eat, sleep, and have sex.

  “Cole…Cole, stop.” I nudge my shoulder up and pull away from him.

  He grabs a beer from the fridge and turns, mumbling under his breath as he walks out of the kitchen. “The guys fucking told me getting married kills your sex life, but I thought we’d at least be married before it died.”

  I roll my eyes and try to blow it off, hoping he’s just stressed about the loss to an in-league rival earlier in the week. I’ve just taken the bread out of the oven and put it on the table when the doorbell rings.

  When I answer it, Dex is on the other side, bottle of wine in hand. When I see him, my heart beats fast, and my breath catches in my throat.

  “Hi, Clair.” He gives me a winsome smile as he glances over my shoulder to see if I’m alone. I step forward and throw my arms around his neck. “You look beautiful,” he whispers as his arms wrap around me.

  “You’re a sight for sore eyes yourself.” I choke back emotion. I take his hand and pull him inside. “Come on in. Cole’s just finishing getting dressed.”

  “Is that…paella?” His nose flares as he breathes in the aromas wafting from the kitchen.

  “It is. Made it myself.” I smile and lift my shoulder, glancing up in mock smugness.

  “You’re turning into quite the domestic goddess, it seems.” He smirks as he hands me the bottle of wine.

  “This is really nice, thanks. Would you prefer it or sangria?”

  “Did you make the sangria?” I nod, and he smiles. “In that case, I’ll try it, of course.”

  “There’s our globetrotter,” I hear Cole say as he walks in and shakes Dex’s hand, taking him in a one-armed hug. “How was London?”

  “Pretty good, actually. Interview went great. Weather was nice. Had some pretty good beer, too.” Dex smiles. “Heard the Rattlers just slid past you this week. Sorry to hear it.”

  “Yeah. Damn Cortina. He should’ve known he wasn’t fast enough to steal that base. No big deal. We’ll get them back in two weeks. We’ll be ready.” Cole throws a smile my way as I bring out the tray with the decanter and glasses.

  I pour three glasses, and join them at the dining room table.

  “So, we’re ready to go to market, then?”

  “We are. We should have the final approvals next week, then we can start the marketing campaign. I’d like to sponsor some users. I was thinking we could set up something through Increasingly Thrive, our new charitable foundation.” Dex raises his glass to me before taking a sip.

  “Sounds good. It’ll probably be good press, too. Let me know if you need me a cash donation to supplement the effort.”

  “I’m so excited for you guys,” I turn to Dex. “I mean, it must be incredibly gratifying to do work you know is making a difference.”

  “You aren’t very happy at work, are you Clair?”

  “Not really.” Cole glances my way as if this is new information, even though we’ve talked about my work a dozen times.

  “Well that won’t be a problem long.” Cole takes a sip from his glass. “Once we’re married, you won’t have time for that place anyway.”

  My brows furrow.

  This is news to me.

  “Why would you say that?”

  “Well, most of the wives do charitable work. In fact, I meant to tell you, they’re going to shoot a public service announcement and I volunteered you. Clay’s wife Sandy is heading it up. I told him to have her call you.” He wriggles his eyebrows.

  “Call me...like to be on camera? I don’t feel comfortable with that,” I’m embarrassed and frustrated that he’d volunteer me without asking me first.

  “You have to, babe. You’re hotter than all the rest of them.” He tries giving me that charming grin he breaks out when he wants something.

  I glance over at Dex, who looks visibly uncomfortable.

  “Maybe we can talk about this later. You guys must be getting hungry. I’ll go get the main course.”

  Over dinner, we talk about Cole’s travel schedule.

  “The PR firm wants to do a photoshoot in the next week or so—think you can make it?” Dex asks him.

  “Depending on the day, but I can make the time, sure. Shouldn’t take more than a couple of hours.” Cole grins and looks at me. “Speaking of photoshoots, we need to schedule our engagement shoot, Sinclair. My agent is getting killed with questions.”

  “So you haven’t officially gone public?” Dex casts me a questioning glance.

  “Her idea,” Cole rolls his eyes playfully and squeezes my hand. “I’m the one who blabbed that I was seeing someone special. Lucky for me I didn’t mention her name, or she might have called it off. She wanted to keep the news to just family for a while.”

  Dex looks from me to Cole and grins. “Well, you told me.”

  “Yeah, but you’re practically family. You’re like a brother to Sinclair.”

  Dex drops his fork and I choke a little on the bite of food I’ve just taken, making me need to take a sip of my drink.

  “He’s not like my brother,” I finally manage to get out. “My friend—my best friend—but not my brother.”

  Dex nods and I notice his cheek lift almost imperceptibly on one side as he tries desperately to squelch the grin that’s trying to surface.

  After dinner, I bring the apple tart I baked from scratch to the tabl
e, along with a pint of vanilla ice cream. I plate up slices of the tart, and Cole tries unsuccessfully to scoop some ice cream from far-too-frozen pint.

  “I wish I’d thought to put it in the fridge to thaw,” I tap my finger to my lip as I consider the options for freeing the ice cream from the tub.

  “No problem, I’ll just cut it open,” Cole jumps up from the table, depositing a kiss on my cheek and heads to the kitchen.

  As soon as he’s out of earshot, Dex leans in. “You haven’t announced your engagement?”

  I glance down, then meet his eye. “I…wanted to wait.”

  “Why, Clair?”

  “Because I…it’s the middle of the season, and I thought…,” I trail off, unsure what else to say because I’m desperately trying to make it up as I go.

  “You realize I can always tell when you’re lying,” he raises an eyebrow over his glasses and lets out an aggravated sigh. “Do you even want to get married?”

  “It’s just so sudden…I’m not sure I was ready.” He cocks his head to the side, begging me to elaborate. “He loves me, I know. It’s just…I’m not sure…it’s not where I thought I’d be.”

  “Not where or not who with?” He shakes his head. “You have choices. If you aren’t happy, you don’t—,” an exclamation from the kitchen cuts him off.

  “Fuck!” I hear Cole’s voice accompanied by the sound of something breaking.

  Dex and I look at each other, then rush to the kitchen. Cole’s eyes hit mine when I get to the doorway. The ice cream is all over the floor, the glass bowl shattered, and he’s trying to clean it up. I didn’t realize it before this moment, but he’s more than a little buzzed, he’s drunk.

  “I dropped it. I’m sorry. I’ll get it. I’ll get it all cleaned up.” He wipes the mess around on the floor, making it significantly worse.

  I shoo him away and he and Dex go back into the dining room. A few minutes later, Dex returns to the kitchen, leaning against the doorframe.

  “Cole decided to call it a night.”

  I’m standing at the kitchen sink, rinsing a small cut across my fingers from cleaning up the broken bowl too hastily.

  “Are you okay?” He asks when he sees my bloody finger.

  “It’s fine. It doesn’t hurt,” I lie, wincing as the cold water runs across the cut.

  Dex steps forward and takes my finger from under the water, examining it.

  “It’s not too bad. Bandage?”

  “Second drawer,” I nod toward the cabinet by the stove.

  He retrieves a bandage and walks back to me. He pats my finger with a clean towel, and applies the bandage, but he doesn’t let go of my hand. He caresses it, pressing his thumb into the center of my palm and stroking gently but firmly back and forth. I’m not sure how, but it’s so much more than a simple, soothing touch. It’s sensual, somehow.

  “Dex, I…,” I start to speak and he cuts me off.

  “Don’t Clair. Just listen, okay?” I nod and he continues. “Cole will be on the road a lot for the next few weeks. I won’t be around. I need some space…some perspective.”

  I wince, and he closes his eyes, shaking his head.

  “We’ll be okay, Clair. We’ll get back to a better place, but right now? It’s just…too much temptation to be so close to what I want most and can’t have. You understand that, don’t you?”

  As much as it hurts me, I nod my head slowly.

  He steps forward and takes my chin in his thumb and forefinger. He tips my face up and dips his head. My body quivers all over, bracing for his lips. As his mouth nears mine, at the last moment, he moves, slightly, and his lips connect softly with my cheek.

  “Goodnight, Sinclair.” His voice is a throaty whisper.

  I don’t move from my spot in the kitchen as he walks into the hallway, through the front door, and closes it behind him. I am frozen as emotion surges through me.

  I touch the bracelet on my wrist, rolling the beads against my skin. As I glance up, I see my face in the mirror above the sink and it all becomes clear.

  I know what I have to do.

  .-- --- -. -.. . .-.

  The next morning, I’m making breakfast when a groggy Cole comes into the kitchen.

  “Hey, babe,” he says, leaning down to brush a kiss to my cheek. “I think I need some Gatorade. Can’t seem to wake up today.” He shuffles past me. It’s almost eleven and his hangover seems to finally be fading a little.

  I hand him a bottle of ibuprofen from the drawer, and he grabs a drink from the fridge.

  I turn my back to the counter, and he takes the ibuprofen tablets, chasing them with the electrolyte drink. “What’s wrong, Sinclair? You don’t look happy.”

  “I’m…not. Can we…,” I can’t keep my voice from breaking.

  “Sinclair?” His brows furrow and he puts down the drink, taking me by the shoulders. “What is it, babe?”

  My voice is soft voice as the tears begin to trail down my cheeks. “I think we need to talk.”

  CHAPTER 30

  Dexter

  IT’S ONE OF THE most difficult conversations I’ve ever had to endure. Really, all I have to do is listen, nod, and occasionally throw in a supportive phrase. Still, keeping my shit together with what he’s telling me is like trying to contain a tsunami in a peanut butter jar.

  “That’s all she said?”

  “Yeah, that’s it. Just that it was all moving too fast, and that she loves me, but not enough to marry me.” He shakes his head and takes another swig of beer. “When I got back from the road, all her stuff was moved out, and her key was on the kitchen counter along with the ring. So…that’s it, I guess.”

  “I’m so sorry, man. Really.” It’s true. I am sorry. I’m sorry my friend is hurting, but I am beyond relieved that she ended it.

  Sinclair left Cole the morning after I was there for dinner. That was three weeks ago. I told Sinclair that night that I needed some distance from the two of them, and the whole situation. Cole’s been on the road nearly non-stop, so this is the first chance we’ve had to catch up.

  His phone buzzes on the table, and he flips it open and smirks before turning it back over. I give him a questioning look and he shrugs. “Cute little redhead I met after the game in Saint Louis a couple of days ago.” He tilts it toward me to show me the lingerie selfie she sent. “You know what they say, the best way to get over one girl is to get under another.”

  My fist clenches under the table. “Dude, I thought your heart was broken.” I shake my head. “I see you bounced back pretty quick, though.”

  “Yeah, I was really torn up, I won’t even lie about that.” He shakes his head. “I thought about it a lot those first couple of weeks on the road, though. I talked to Jorge, too. He’s one wise dude, ya know? Anyway, you know what I realized?”

  “What’s that?”

  “It was my ego that was hurting most of all. I think I did it all wrong with Sinclair. I was so hellbent on getting her, I think I just moved too fast. I just thought she’d be such a great wife. She’s so fucking pretty and just the kinda girl I always thought I’d want by my side.” He shrugs. “One of the coaches told me that sometimes people just marry the person they’re dating when they decide to get married, instead of the person that would fit them for the long haul. I think that’s what I was doing with her. It seemed like the right time, but maybe she wasn’t the right girl.”

  “Maybe,” I pop another onion ring into my mouth. “I’m just glad you seem like you’re doing okay.”

  “We didn’t have that much in common, though. I’ve thought about this shit a lot, and, well, I think she oughtta be with someone more like you, Dexter.”

  I nearly choke on the onion ring I just swallowed. “Like me?”

  “Well, yeah. I mean, you’re super smart and like all that science-y shit she was always droning on about.” He rolls his eyes. “I mean, no offense, dude.”

  “Yeah, none taken. I mean, it’s just my life’s work. No big deal.” I shake my head
and smirk.

  “You know what I mean. Anyway, so yeah, I think I just took it too fast and fucked it all up. Sinclair’s a good person. I want her to be happy. I wish it was with me, but if it’s not, then I hope she finds somebody that will be who she needs them to. He blows out a long breath, then looks at me and raises his glass. “To Sinclair.”

  “To Sinclair,” I clink my glass to his.

  “Oh, speaking of…I almost forgot. Here.” He slides an envelope across the table to me. I recognize the AE logo on the outside, and I know what’s inside. When he was using the Sana device on his dates with Clair, I had tucked it and some bandages that I’d pre-prepared in an envelope for him. I take the envelope and a chill runs up my spine.

  “You were a good friend, helping me out like you did.” He grins at me. “Especially with all things considered.”

  “What do you mean, all things considered?” I’m not sure what he’s getting at.

  “I told you, I’ve been thinking about everything a lot the last few weeks. I fucked it up with Sinclair, but I also fucked it up with you, too.” I furrow my brow and he chuckles. “I thought about all those conversations we had when she and I first started dating. I asked you if I shouldn’t have made a move…if you liked her.”

  “Yeah…so?”

  “So…you told me you were just friends. You didn’t say you weren’t into her. I thought about how you bolted that night I proposed to her—you didn’t even stick around long enough to congratulate us. And that last night we all had dinner together…you were a nervous wreck.” He cocks his head to the side and smirks.

  “I don’t know what you’re getting at, Cole.”

  “Dude…you’re a good friend. You helped me with her even though you didn’t want to. I didn’t realize I was stealing your girl. You never told me how you felt about her.”

  I wince and my mouth drops open, but I’m not sure what to say.

  “It’s okay, Dexter. Listen, I’m sorry. I was too fucking selfish to see it. If I’d have been paying any attention, I would’ve realized and not made a move. I get it now, though. You helped me, even though you wanted her for yourself. That’s pretty damn noble, bro. I sure couldn’t have done what you did.” He waves the server over and orders another beer.