“You look like a woman who can handle a big axe.”
My eyes widen as a cocky grin spreads over his lips. I laugh, shaking my head. I take the axe from him, feeling its weight it my hands. My eyes are locked on his, and my voice is low and husky.
“Big axe is right.”
His pupils dilate and my heart hammers against my ribcage. When did I get so flirty?
The tension in my shoulders melts away when Jesse smiles at me, and I grin. He sets another log on the chopping block. Then, he puts his hands on my waist and guides me closer to it. The heat pools between my legs and I inhale the spicy, exotic scent that clings to him.
Jesse stands behind me so that I can feel the heat of his body against my back. I lean into him, closing my eyes for just an instant. He places his hands over mine, sliding them along the axe handle until they’re spread out.
“There,” he says. His voice is low when he speaks into my ear. His breath tickles my neck. “If your hands are too close together, you’ll have no power.” He leans me back against him, swinging the axe slowly in a big arc along the ground.
I can feel the muscles in his legs tensing against mine as he swings the axe. His chest is so broad it feels like I could lose myself in it. If I pushed my ass back, would I feel his…
“You want to use the weight of the axe to help you, like this.” I snap back to what he’s saying. We swing the axe back and forth a few times, and then he steps away. I miss the heat of his body behind me as soon as he leaves.
“Now just swing it up and down onto that log.”
I glance at Jesse, and he gives me an encouraging nod. My eyes linger on his shoulders. I look back at the big log in front of me and take a deep breath. Jesse obviously believes in me, so how hard could it be?
I swing the axe back and up over my head, finally bringing it down on the log as hard as I possibly can. All the tension, the aggression, the frustration that has built up inside me over the past couple days comes down with the axe.
I channel it all into that one swing. All the jealousy and feelings of inadequateness—they all come out. My jaw is clenched and my eyes are set on the log. When the axe is up overhead and I start to feel it come down, I let out a loud, low growl.
It’s not just my feelings for Elijah that come out. It’s my feelings for Jesse, too. Ever since I met him, with that towel wrapped around his chiseled waist, I’ve felt like my whole world is off-balance.
The feeling of the wood splitting under the axe is the most satisfying thing I’ve felt in a long time. The axe embeds itself in the block and the log falls apart on either side of it.
Jesse whoops and laughs as he comes near me, yanking the axe out of my hand and staring at me. His eyes are sparkling.
“Looks like you had some anger to let out.”
“Give me that axe again,” I say, laughing, “might have a bit more aggression that needs to be let loose.”
Jesse grins, arching an eyebrow. His grey eyes are sparkling. We stand there staring at each other, unmoving. His eyes drop down to my lips, then my chest, then my hands. He clears his throat, and then sets one half of the split log back on its end. He hands me the axe. “All yours.”
With another grunt, I split that piece of wood, and then another, and then another. Jesse sets them up for me, giving me small pointers and then letting me do the work. Soon, beads of sweat are dripping down my forehead as I push my hair back.
I sigh, shaking my head.
“I never knew that could be so satisfying.”
“Almost as good as playing football,” he grins. He takes the axe from my hands, and the touch of his fingertips against mine makes heat flood between my legs.
“You looking forward to getting back?”
“Yeah,” he says, leaning the axe against the edge of the shed. “We have a couple big games coming up and I’m feeling a bit of cabin fever up here.”
“More like mansion fever,” I laugh. “I find it so funny that you guys call this thing a cabin.”
Jesse laughs, glancing at the huge log house. He nods. “It’s a bit over-the-top, isn’t it?”
“It’s bigger than every house I’ve ever had, combined!”
“Well, I’ve been getting mansion fever, then,” he grins. “So my mom told me you’re in finance?”
I nod. “I’m a financial manager at a construction company in New York.”
“Smart and beautiful,” he grins. I blush.
“It sounds like a boring job, but it really isn’t. I get to work on all kinds of projects and, I don’t know, I guess I get a bit of a thrill when I win some tough negotiations.”
“Wow,” his eyebrows twitch upwards. “Impressive. So what do you want to do long term? You want to keep doing that job?
“What do you mean?” No one asks me that. Everyone assumes that I’m just going to be ‘Elijah’s wife’ and nothing more. Jesse laughs.
“I mean, what are your career ambitions?”
A smile flashes on my face, and I think of the job I applied for at Rachael’s company, Angel Investments. They invest in both non-profit and for-profit companies that actually do good in the world. I’d love to do something like that. I glance at Jesse and shrug.
He laughs. “Come on, you can tell me.”
“What made you so interested?”
“Maybe I want to get to know you.”
“Why?”
“Why not?”
He licks his lips and my stomach turns to goo. I wonder how his lips taste. What would it feel like if he took those muscular arms and caged me against the side of the shed, and slid his broad hands down my sides? If he crushed his lips to mine and pressed his long, hard—
I shake my head. The air is heavy. Jesse takes a step closer to me and my breath catches. He opens his mouth and then stops. He kneels down to keep stacking the logs we’ve chopped.
“What?”
“Huh?” He says, not looking at me.
“You were going to ask me something.”
“Oh. I just…” he pauses, crouched below me with a log in his hand. He glances up at me and his eyes look almost tender. “I was just going to ask if you’re okay. I heard you and Elijah have an argument. I didn’t hear anything!” He adds quickly. “But I just… I can imagine it would be tough to be around your fiancé’s family stuck up in the woods in the middle of nowhere when you’re not feeling great.”
A smile tugs at my lips and I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. “Thanks, Jesse,” I say. “I appreciate that.”
He stares at me for a moment and then shrugs. “I know how Elijah is. He can be a bit of an…”
“Ass?”
Jesse grins, shrugging. “Your words.”
“I know I shouldn’t say that, but sometimes he just is so stubborn and it’s like he doesn’t even care that I exist.”
He stands up and nods to my arms. I hold them out for him to stack some logs into them. “Trust me,” he says, not looking at me. “I know exactly what you mean.”
His lips are a thin line, and I decide to not ask what he means. That’s between him and Elijah.
“It’s just a tough time of year,” I say.
“Christmas?”
“Mm. Christmas was always really stressful. Too much drinking.”
Jesse stands in front of me and then tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. I close my eyes for an instant, loving the tenderness of his touch.
“Is that why you don’t drink?”
I nod, and a bitter laugh escapes my lips. “Not all families could be on a Hallmark card like the Matthews.”
“We’re not as perfect as we look.”
“No one is.”
He stares at me, and I feel like he knows my pain. Even though I’ve never told him anything, even though I met him yesterday, I feel like he gets me in a way that few other people do. I look at the house.
“We should go back.”
“Yeah.”
Neither of us move for a few seconds, and then Jesse
sighs and turns to the house. The heaviness in my heart returns when we get to the house.
When we go back inside, Elijah and Sally are back in the living room. I see Elijah’s eyebrow arch when I walk in with Jesse. Even though I know it shouldn’t make me happy, I get a small amount of satisfaction knowing that he’s jealous, too.
That’s probably not healthy, and probably not what a relationship should be like. But right now, it’s exactly what I feel.
8
Jesse
The flight back to Boston is short, just over an hour. It’s a relief to get away from the overbearing family events, but leaving feels a bit bitter, as well.
Farrah gives me a kiss on the cheek and a smile as I leave, and Elijah shakes my hand.
“See you on the football field in a couple of weeks,” he grins. “Get ready to get beat.”
“We’ll see,” I say, punching him in the arm. “Think that arm can hold up to a game against the Pats?”
Elijah just laughs and Farrah smiles. Mom and Dad give me a kiss and then I leave for the airport. It’s about an hour drive, and then an hour flight, and by the time the sun is going down, I’m back in my four-bedroom mansion in Brookline, Massachusetts.
“Honey, I’m home!” I call out into the empty house as I walk through the door. I laugh bitterly, and then I sigh. It would be funny if it wasn’t so sad. Why did I buy this place anyway? It’s way too big for a bachelor on his own.
I flick my phone on and dial my teammate’s number. It’s Jordan, one of our running backs.
“Yo, Jord. You want to come by tonight and watch the game?”
“For sure. You back? How was the family?”
“They were good. The usual. You?”
Jordan chuckles. “Same. Couldn’t wait to get away. Be there in half an hour.”
“Get Boots and Rigley as well.” The two offensive linesmen each weigh about as much as Jordan and I put together, but they’re just big teddy bears. Or at least, they are off the field. On the field they’re fucking animals.
“Will do.”
I drop my small suitcase in my room and wander back to the kitchen. I open the fridge and sigh. I have an old head of lettuce, a couple Gatorades, and an assortment of old condiments. Nice. Looks like I’ll be ordering in tonight, again. At least being back at my parents’ house I had Maria’s cooking every day. Beats takeout any day of the week.
Now I’m back to reality. The cold, lonely reality of being a thirty-five year old bachelor.
By the time Jordan, Rigley, and Boots are here, I’ve got the game on the TV and some food on the way. Boots comes barreling through the door with a big, goofy smile on his face. He holds up a bag of beef jerky and tosses it to me. I catch it on my chest, grinning.
“Straight from God’s gift to this earth: Texas,” he booms. “Best jerky in the world.”
“Thanks, Boots.” I grin. He sits on the end of the couch and it creaks under his weight. Rigley takes the other end and Jordan grabs a recliner. We settle into easy conversation.
It feels good to be home. We talk about football, about our game in two days, about anything and nothing. The buzz of the playoffs is all around us. Soon, we’ll be vying for our spot in the Super Bowl. Halftime starts and Jordan clears his throat.
“So, I thought I’d tell you guys this before it becomes public knowledge,” he starts.
I turn to him, chewing on beef jerky. Rigley shifts in his seat and my couch groans again. Jordan takes a deep breath and then a huge grin spreads across his face.
“I’m engaged!”
He looks at me expectantly. I ignore the pang that passes through my chest and the thought that I’m going to lose my best friend. Instead, I jump up and wrap my arms around him.
“Congrats, bro,” I laugh as we embrace. “That’s fucking awesome. Steph didn’t turn you down, then, hey?”
“Shut up, dickhead,” he says, pushing me away. I laugh, and place my hand on his shoulder.
“Congratulations.”
“Thanks, man.”
Boots and Rigley heave themselves off the couch and crush Jordan between them. He’s beaming, laughing and patting them on the back and then he launches into the story of his proposal.
He’s been with Steph since high school. They dated all through college and have basically been the perfect couple for over a decade. It was never a question of ‘if’ with them, it was a question of ‘when’.
“So yeah, I finally stopped being a little pussy, I guess,” he laughs. “I was fucking nervous, though.”
“You’ve been with Steph like, your whole life,” Rigley laughs. “She wasn’t going to say no.”
“It’s still nerve wracking,” Boots says, throwing another piece of jerky in his mouth. “When I asked Amanda, I thought I was going to shit my pants.”
We all laugh, and I squeeze Jordan’s shoulder again. He grins at me, and I can’t ignore how happy he is. I’m happy for him too. I am!
So why does it make me feel so hollow inside?
Am I really that shallow asshole that can’t be truly happy for my best friend? What, did I think it would be just the two of us until the end of time? Steph’s always been in the picture, it’s not like anything is going to change.
Still, something feels different. It feels like there’s this whole side of life that I’m missing out on. Even fucking Elijah, King of the Assholes, has found a perfect woman to marry.
And me?
It feels like I’ve spent more time chewing this beef jerky than I have with a woman.
“Did you see that dickhead brother of yours?” Jordan says to change the subject. His eyes are still gleaming with happiness.
I nod. “I did. He’s still a dickhead.”
“Isn’t he engaged, too? How does he get so many women?”
“I have no idea. Maybe they like being cheated on.”
Jordan scoffs and Rigley shakes his head. I shouldn’t talk about my brother that way. I can’t help it. What is between us, it goes deeper than sibling rivalry. He swooped in and kissed Sally before I could. In high school, he stole my girlfriend after two weeks, even though he was just a freshman and I was a junior. He always seems to get what he wants, and he always treats them like shit.
He gave me the scar on my chest. I still remember the glint of metal in his hand and the cold, hard gleam in his eye. He doesn’t show that side of himself often.
But it’s there.
And yet, he’s engaged.
And here I am, holding my dick in my hand like a fucking loser.
I think about Farrah, and how she looked when she laughed. There was such determination in her eyes when she brought that axe down on the logs. Her eyes sparkled in the moonlight when she talked about handling a big axe, and it made my whole body feel like it was balancing on a knife’s edge.
Boots glances at me, frowning. “What’s on your mind, Jesse?”
“Ah, nothing,” I sigh. “I just really want to make it to the Super Bowl. I want to play against my brother and I want to beat his ass.”
“Don’t worry,” Rigley says with a nod. “We will.”
Lots of things have to go right over the next month for that to happen, but it could happen. And if it did, it would lessen the sting of being alone, at least for a little while.
9
Farrah
When Elijah and I get back to our apartment in Hoboken, New Jersey a couple days after Christmas, I flop down onto the couch and let out a big sigh. I stare out the huge windows at the Hudson River, its black, frigid waters flowing quickly as snow falls thick and heavy over us.
Elijah drops his bag next to the bedroom door and then checks his phone. He slips it back into his pocket and comes over to kiss the top of my head.
“Going out to watch some game tapes,” he says as he squeezes my shoulders.
“So late? We just got back!”
“You know how Coach is.”
“Okay,” I say, and watch him slip out the door without another
word. Is he really going to watch game tapes? I shake the thought away. This paranoia has to stop.
Once again, I’m alone. I sigh as I look at the door where Elijah disappeared.
I pull out my phone and dial Rach.
“Hey,” I say as I lie back on the couch.
“You’re back?!”
“Sure am.”
“Yes! I want to hear everything about the Matthews and their cabin. Has Elijah told you anything about the photo from that chick?”
I just sigh, and Rachael makes a noise.
“Hold on. Let me get my laptop, I want to video chat with you,” she says. “I need to see your face and see if I need to make a trip down to New Jersey.”
“That won’t be necessary,” I laugh.
“I’ll be the judge of that.”
We hang up, and I get my laptop out as well. Rachael lives in Boston. She moved there a couple years ago, around the same time I started dating Elijah. I was sad, but I had an exciting new relationship to focus on. Now it feels like she’s a million miles away.
By the time she calls back, I’ve cracked open a bottle of sparkling water and put on some thick socks to ward against the cold.
“I have a present for you,” she says, holding up a long, narrow box. It looks like jewelry.
I frown. “What is it? We never get each other any Christmas presents.”
“I know, but this was an exception.”
“Well, tell me,” I laugh. “What is it?”
She opens the box and holds it up to the screen. My eyes widen. Nestled in blue velvet, is a silver pen with her company’s logo engraved on it.
“Rach…”
“Congratulations!” She laughs. “You got the job!”
My eyes widen as my jaw drops. “Oh my God! Oh my God! Holy shit!” I lean into the screen and stare at it, and then look at Rachael. Her hands are clasped in front of her and she’s got tears in her eyes. She’s beaming, until she sees my face drop.
“What, what’s wrong? I thought you wanted this!” The screen crackles and I use the distraction to clear my throat.
Mr. Right: The Complete Fake Engagement Series Page 22
