by Cassie Wild
“Sure.”
I ducked out, and although I heard the animated voices coming from the room as I walked down the hall, everybody went silent when I appeared. Being the center of attention never settled well with me, but I summoned up a smile. “She’s fine. Just having some baby issues. She’s going to duck out a little early, though. Her husband’s on his way to get her.”
“You sure she’s okay?” Tommy asked, his mouth flattening into a firm line.
I cocked a brow at him. “You want to go ask her yourself?”
There were a few chuckles in the circle as Tommy lapsed into silence, an obvious no.
“I’m going to get her coat and purse. You all keep on talking.” As I rounded the group, I paused by Tommy’s side and bent down to murmur into his ear.
He nodded and gave me an easy smile. “Sure thing, kid.”
Once I’d returned from passing Tracy’s belongings over to her, I sat down in the group and folded my hands together, tucking them between my knees. Tommy had redirected the group from worrying about Tracy, and Matt was discussing an upcoming date. “It’s weird, you know,” he said. “I always thought my Gayle and me would grow old and die together. And here I am, sixty years old and going on a first date for the first time in more than forty years.”
“You sound nervous,” I said softly.
He laughed, the sound sharp and bright. “Nervous? I think I’ve gone crazy!”
Others joined in and laughed with him. Save for Sean. He was still staring at the floor. Then, as if he sensed my attention, he lifted his head a fraction and stared at me from under his lashes.
I caught sight of his eyes.
It hit me then. Why he looked so familiar.
That intense, bluish-purple.
It was the guy from the sports bar. The one who’d been flirting with me last week.
What in the hell was he doing here?
He frowned at me, his brow winging up, and I realized he didn’t recognize me. My heart slowed a bit, and the nerves inside me settled. Good. That was good.
What did you think, Tish? That he was stalking you?
I smothered a nervous laugh. My imagination could get more than a little active at times, there was no denying that. But as he looked away, clearly disinterested, I forced the tension in my shoulders to relax.
He was here for the same reason we all were.
He’d lost somebody.
There was nothing else to it.
I’d managed to push him out of my mind as Tommy and I finished putting up the chairs. While the big man lumbered into the kitchenette to rinse out the coffeemaker, I turned to do a double-check of the room.
My heart slammed up into my throat as I caught movement in the corner of my eye. The damn thing slowly settled back into place as I recognized Sean. He pushed off the wall and came toward me, looking rich and grouchy and out of place in the worn, quiet church basement where the group meetings were located.
“Is there something you needed?” I asked.
“Yeah.” He frowned, looking a little uncomfortable. “I guess I should have talked to the other woman. She’s in charge, right?”
“Tracy? Yeah. She runs the group. She’s gone now, though. She texted me.”
He scowled. “I need something signed, stating I was here.” A dull red flush crept up to stain his cheeks red.
There had been a member who’d come to the group for three months not long after I started. She’d been ordered into court mandated grief counseling. I didn’t know if that was the case, but I’d seen Tracy sign a document for the woman every meeting, then stamp it.
“Well, I’m not the leader, but I can sign it, stamp the form, and staple one of Tracy’s cards to it. Her cell number is on the card, so if they have questions, they can call her.”
“Good enough.” He pulled a rolled-up sheet of paper out of his pocket and shoved it at me.
In the blink of an eye, his surly expression was gone, replaced by the charming smile he’d given me at the sports bar. “Any chance you’d just sign straight on down to the bottom so I can just skip the rest of this?”
Skimming the paper, I took in what it read, including his full, legal name. Looking back at him, I gave him a cool look. “That would be falsifying a court document, so let’s go with no, Mr. Downing.” I signed it, then left him in the main area while I retrieved the stamp Tracy used from the catch-all drawer in the kitchen, along with her card and the stapler. Once I was finished, I turned it back over to him.
“You don’t recognize me, do you?” he asked, staring at me intently.
I stilled. I could have sworn he didn’t remember me, although now I wasn’t so sure.
“I know you came into the sports bar where I work and flirted with me,” I replied levelly.
Confusion clouded his eyes. Then he grinned abruptly, looking ten years younger. My age, really. Younger, even. “You’re the server from last week. Still kind of bummed you didn’t give me your number. At least I got your name now, though…Tish.” His smile faded, and something I couldn’t name crossed over his expression. “But that wasn’t what I meant. You don’t know who I am, do you?”
“Am I supposed to?” I asked, looking him up and down.
A faint laugh escaped him. “Imagine that.”
While the bemusement drifted over his face, I went to go put the supplies away. He was still standing there, smiling a little as I came back out.
“It doesn’t matter who you are,” I told him. “We’re all here for the same reason…and we’ve all lost somebody.”
Thirteen
Sean
She smelled good.
I stood a little closer than necessary as she read over the sheet, then signed it. I could see her lashes flicker as she blinked and waited for the typical reaction that always followed when people realized I was that Sean. The Sean Downing—one of the Downings. The one who’d lost his wife. Bitterness welled up inside.
Tish looked back up at me, and the bitterness died under an avalanche of irritation. Here it comes.
She turned the paper back over to me with a friendly smile, her eyes polite and distant.
It hit me then.
“You don’t recognize me, do you?”
She cocked her head, studying me. “I know you came into the sports bar where I work and flirted with me.”
The words didn’t connect at first, but then I remembered going out with Dominick and Cedric. The blonde. She looked different now, her sunny hair spilling down past her shoulders, wearing a sweater that barely hit the waistband of her jeans, and worn, old boots that went almost to her knees. “You’re the server from last week. Still kind of bummed you didn’t give me your number. At least I got your name now, though…Tish. But that wasn’t what I meant. You don’t know who I am, do you?”
“Am I supposed to?” She pursed her lips as she studied me.
I was surprised to hear myself laughing. “Imagine that.”
I was still smiling when she came back out.
Her next words, though, chased away the humor.
“It doesn’t matter who you are. We’re all here for the same reason…and we’ve all lost somebody.”
She watched me with sympathy and compassion. I hated it. In reaction, I reached up and caught a strand of her warm, golden hair and tugged on it. “You maybe want to rethink giving me your number? Or maybe we could just skip that, go out to eat, maybe get a drink?”
I had a feeling the demons in my head were going to scream loud tonight.
I’d just as soon not deal with them alone.
Tish reached up and caught my wrist, gently tugging until I let go of her hair. “I don’t think so.”
Her face was somber, but it didn’t take away from the soft, gentle beauty. There was something…warm about her, and whatever it was, it drew me in. “You sure? Maybe I could talk you into signing the rest of that paper for me. You wouldn’t have to mess with me anymore.”
“Sean…” She sighed, soundin
g mildly exasperated. “I don’t know exactly why the court decided you need to be here, but they did. That means you need to be here. I’m not going to help you cheat.” There was a finality in her voice that registered, and she backed away, that sympathetic smile returning to her face. “But if you want to talk, maybe get some coffee or something…I guess we can sit down and talk. I know it’s not always easy opening up to a group of strangers—”
“Sugar, the only thing I want opening up is your legs,” I said, the words flying out of me before I realized I was going to say anything. That naked sympathy on her face had cut in, though, cut deep.
Her cheeks went red, and she jerked back like I’d slapped her.
That just made me ashamed, but instead of apologizing, I dug in my heels. “What’s the matter, blondie? Haven’t you figured out by now that men would rather fuck out their feelings than cry them out?”
“Really?” The shock had faded from her voice, and she gave me a reproachful look, shaking her head. “That hasn’t been my experience here. Usually, when men act like wounded bears and lash out, it’s because they’re hurting, not because they’re in the mood to fuck.”
My cock stirred, watching her pretty mouth form the word fuck. “Damn…” I murmured under my breath.
“Is it so hard to let somebody help, Sean?”
I glared at her. “I told you how you could help. Since you’re not interested, I think I’ll pass on the heart to heart.”
Turning on my heel, I headed for the door. I had to get out of there, and fast. Because the longer I stayed, the more I was tempted to give in and do exactly what she suggested.
Let her help.
It was just after one on Sunday, and my kitchen was full of talkative smiling women while men gathered in my living room, piled on the couch as they analyzed the football game.
I sat off to the side in the recliner Isabel had loved, brooding as the chaos of my family echoed around me.
I kept telling myself that I shouldn’t have opened the door.
But if I hadn’t, Brooks would have used his key to unlock it, and they all would have piled in.
I’d been informed by Briar that, “You’ve had enough time to brood and grieve on your own.” Apparently, it was time to rejoin the family again. Or at least learn to spend time with them again. Maybe ditching them for Thanksgiving hadn’t been the best plan.
Cormac sat on the far end of the couch, quiet and looking out of place. My dad talked to him, and from time to time, Brooks tried to draw both of us into the conversation, no matter how many death stares I gave him.
Cormac responded politely.
I just ignored all the attempts.
Finally, after my brother tried again, I got up and headed into the kitchen. It was one place that didn’t remind me of Isabel much. She’d hated to cook. She could do it if she was strong-armed into it, but she hadn’t liked it.
Daria and Briar both paused in their discussion when I came into the kitchen. Daria was the first to respond, coming over to give me a hug. “You need to shave, Sean. You’re as rough as sandpaper.” A light Russian accent tinged her words.
“Not like I got anybody I’m going to give razor burn to,” I said with a shrug.
Briar kept her distance. The two of us didn’t know how to act around each other half the time. It was my fault, and I didn’t like it, but I couldn’t get past the big wall of Cormac either.
“You said you’d found a group to attend.” My sister studied me as I poured myself some coffee.
I glanced at her. “You used to be better at subtlety, Briar.”
“I’m not trying to be subtle.” She shrugged. “Have you been yet?”
“Yeah.” I took a sip of coffee and grimaced. “Last night.”
“The coffee that bad, Sean?” Daria asked.
“No. It’s fine.” I’d been grimacing because of the group. Because of Tish. “There was this girl…” I stopped and shook my head.
Both Daria and Briar was staring at me. “What?”
“You met a girl?”
“No!” I snapped. “Not like that. That’s the last thing I want or need. She’s a pain in the ass.” I almost told them that the only thing I wanted from women right now was a few hours of forgetfulness but realized that would make me sound like an ass. I was, but I didn’t need to highlight it. “She actually works at this sports bar where I like to go with Dominick and Cedric. She was working her shift when we went last week, and, trust me, she was just as annoying then as she was last night.”
Daria pressed her lips together and turned away.
“Just how is she…annoying?” Briar asked.
I jerked my head up, staring at her hard.
Her expression was innocent.
Narrowing my eyes, I tried to discern if there was something under that innocent expression, but if there was, she’d gotten very good at hiding her thoughts.
“She’s just…annoying. I was hanging around after the group because I needed my court papers signed and she starts yammering on about how it can be hard to talk in a group, but we could go out for coffee and talk, shit like that.”
“I guess she recognized you. Might have been trying to hit on you,” Daria offered as she flipped squares of French toast off a griddle I didn’t even know I’d owned.
“No.” Annoyed, I shoved my hand through my hair. “She didn’t even know who I was.”
“Sure she didn’t.” Briar’s tone was sarcastic, and when I looked at her, she rolled her eyes. “I mean, that’s a tired old line, right?”
“I…no. Look, you two weren’t there. She wasn’t trying to play me. She was just annoying.” Aggravated all over again, I left the kitchen.
For a second, I thought I heard Briar laughing behind me. I turned to glance back in the room, but both she and Daria seemed focused on sprinkling powdered sugar on the French toast.
Maybe I’d finally cracked.
Fourteen
Tish
Studying the mirror in the employee break room, I smoothed my ponytail one more time and eyed the makeup. It still didn’t feel all that natural to me, but after coaxing from several of the other servers, I’d finally started wearing some—nothing heavy. There was no point to going heavy here. With all the rushing back and forth from the kitchen window to the tables, I’d end up sweating off anything other than some mascara and some light eye makeup. I kept a tube of so-called long-lasting lipstick in my pocket and had finally gotten in the habit of touching it up every few hours.
“Looking good there, cutie!” Stephanie popped up in the mirror next to me, grinning.
The infectious curve of her lips was impossible to resist, and I found myself smiling back at her. “Not sure if it does much good, but hey, I’m trying.”
“Do you feel good?” she asked. Her spiraling curls spilled out of her high ponytail and bounced with her movement. “Like how you look?”
I studied my reflection and considered it, then nodded. “Yeah. I think so.”
“Then it’s doing good. Go with it.” She slung an arm around my neck and hugged me. “Come on. Let’s get to it. So far, it looks sloooowwww out there. We’re probably going to spend a lot of time rolling silverware and napkins.”
“Oh. Joy.” I rolled my eyes.
Stephanie surprised me with a loud, smacking kiss on the cheek as she laughed. “You said it!”
An hour later, a mountain of rolled napkins bearing their neat bundles of silverware sat piled up next to me. I had a small section with only four tables occupied, and I kept an eye on them, getting up every few minutes to check on them.
A gust of cold wind blasted in as somebody opened the door. Since the last table seated had been in my section, I didn’t bother looking up. I rolled a few more napkins, added them to my pile, then got up to round on my section. I frowned when I saw a new customer had been added. I’d just had a table seated so the next one should have gone to Stephanie. Glancing over at the host, Leslie, I arched a brow.
She shrugged and pointed at me. “Asked for you,” she mouthed.
I eyed the woman’s profile again. I was almost certain I didn’t know her.
Grabbing a menu and fetching a glass of ice water, I made a wide circle around my section, checking on my other patrons as I made my way over to her. “Hello,” I said as I finally reached her table. Putting the menu and water down, I smiled. “How are you doing today?”
She tipped her head back and smiled at me. “I’m doing fine. You?”
“Can’t complain,” I told her. “Can I get you a drink?”
“I’ll just stick with the water.” She pinned me with a direct look. “Are you the same Tish who goes to a grief support group?” She named the church that hosted the group and cocked a brow, waiting for an answer.
Warily, I lowered my tablet. “Why are you asking?”
“I’ll take that as a yes.” She nodded to the empty seat across from her. “Any chance you can take a few minutes?”
I barely managed to contain the snort. “Right now? I just got here an hour ago. I get a break, but not for three more hours.”
“Okay.” She got up, laid a ten-dollar bill down. “I’ll be back in three hours. I hope you can give me some time then.”
I had food waiting for me when my break rolled around. I half-expected the brunette not to show, but practically as soon as I picked up my meal, the door opened, and she came inside.
The early dinner rush was on, but more staff had arrived, so I was free to take my break.
She caught my eye and lifted a brow.
Stephanie saw me and nudged me with her elbow. “Go on. Grab your lunch and have a seat. We’re not that busy. I’ll cover your tables.”
I’d mentioned the weird interaction to her earlier, and Stephanie and I had both tried to figure out whether the woman would come back. Now that she had, I had no doubt my co-worker would be curious as to what she wanted.
